Waldo in the king-cab, behind the front seats.
A bend in the road is not the end of the road… unless you fail to make the turn.
-Helen Keller
Road trip!
Christine loves peaches. The peaches she loves the most are from Smithsburg, MD, 431 miles from where she lives in Holden, MA. That’s about an eight-hour drive, each direction, including stops along the way. She adores those peaches as much as I do flying aerobatics. So, once a year, for I don’t remember how many years, we, including Waldo, pile into her pickup early in the morning and head south. Waldo and I go along to keep her company and make sure she doesn’t fall asleep at the wheel. We also go because I really love the sweet and juicy corn they grow at the orchard. I’m not much of a peach fan, but, man, that corn they grow is good. Christine offsets the cost of the trip by selling cases of peaches to friends and locals here in Massachusetts. I usually come back with a couple dozen ears of corn for myself and family and the pickup is loaded with up to 70 cases of peaches. With all those peaches, Christine has to call ahead a few days so they’re ready for us when we get there. Today is the day we pick them up.
Waldo and I get up at 3:30 and stumble through our morning routine. Waldo drinks a bowl of water, but doesn’t touch his kibble. He’s been off his feed a bit recently. I don’t know if it’s because of the heat, or there’s something in the water that he insists on drinking instead of the water I give him — something that upsets his stomach. His preferred quaff comes from A/C condensation that drips onto his throne on the balcony (the idiot also prefers puddles of water along the trail to what’s in his water bottles). So, I pack a couple of meals of kibble with his dinner bowl and two bottles of trekking water (the water I bring for Waldo when we go on our long walks). I fix myself a quick and meager breakfast and we’re off.
We arrive at Christine’s house at 5:15 and we’re packed in the truck and gone by 5:30. The truck is a king cab and Waldo lies down in the space behind the front seats. He has plenty of space, but he’s not happy about being back there, instead of in the passenger seat next to me. Christine knows that we need to stop every few hours so Waldo can get out, stretch his legs a bit, and empty any tanks that might need it. So, the trip is planned around stopping for gas, then, later, grabbing some snacks at a grocery store along the way. We do this by entering “nearby gas stations,” or “nearby grocery stores” in Google. Technology has taken a lot of adventure out road trips, but it has made it more convenient, and it allows us to easily double task when we stop for Waldo.
Most of the trip is on freeways, something else I didn’t have as a kid. Alas, no more Burma Shave signs planted next to endless two-lane roads. It does make the trip a bit dull and monotonous, but it’s faster than the winding highways and byways we used to have to travel. To fill in the time, Christine and I discuss politics and problems of the world. We also google words that come up, from various sources, like “epicene,” (which means “effeminate”). Waldo lies quietly in back with only an occasional stir to shift his position, oblivious and uncaring about our conversation up front.
When we stop, I open the back door and Waldo is eager to get out and go. He’s pulling at the leash, trying to run he knows not where – it doesn’t matter, he’s just gotta go! We explore the immediate environs and follow whatever patch of grass we can find amongst all the tarmac. Waldo pees a bit and drinks some water, but refuses the food I offer him. Then we’re back in the truck and on the road.
As we near our destination, we pass through the Catoctin Mountain National Recreation area, operated by the National Park Service. The road is a two-lane winding byway with a gentle grade that runs through spectacularly green forested hills. Every time I pass through it, I can’t help but feel it would be a really nice place to camp and hike. Alas, we never have time to stop and explore because we need to get our load and head back home so we can compete our trip before midnight. Maybe one day.
Once we get to the orchard, Waldo and I get out and walk amongst the trees and crops while the truck gets loaded. It’s a bit muggy, but not terribly hot this year. We walk around about a mile or so and then get back in the truck. Waldo is still not eating. We get on the road to home.
On the way back, it occurs to us that we really don’t know anything about Catoctin, so I google it. Lo and behold, this is where Camp David, the presidential retreat, is! It’s nowhere in sight and there aren’t any signs that point to it, probably for security reasons, but it’s right there on the map! How many times have we passed through here and we never knew that! It makes me wonder how much else about my immediate surroundings I’m oblivious to.
We stop at a Five Guys in Harrisburg and get hamburgers. I put out Waldo’s kibble and he turns up his nose at it. Literally. He uses his nose to try to upend his dish. But I know my doggy and I prime his eating pump by putting a French fry on top of his food (he loves French fries). He empties his bowl and we’re back on our way.
We get back to Christine’s place just a few minutes after 9. Waldo and I are back home by 10 PM. 16 ½ hours on the road, 18 ½ hours since we got up. We are beat. But Christine has her peaches and I have my corn. This wasn’t our usual kind of trip, but Waldo and I did get out of our normal routine and saw, with both eyes and nose, parts of the world that are a bit different.
And variety is the spice of life.
Exploring the orchard and crops.