What comes to mind when you hear the words ‘Road Trip’? I think of summer. I think of sunshine. I think of open windows, a crinkled up map, some country tunes on the radio, bugs splattered on the windshield, and the free, open road. When I was a kid, our family rented an RV every summer. All 6 of us would pack up our lives for a few weeks and drive from San Diego to our favorite ranch in Wyoming, making life-altering memories along the way. I remember stopping at Bannack State Park and playing Spartacus with my sisters at the campsite. Yea, we were legit. I’ll never forget the time we fried an egg in the sand of the hot springs just to see if it would actually cook. It did. Science at it’s best. I still remember celebrating my dad’s August birthday at one of the RV sites, and we made him taco salad and brownies as the sun set behind the majestic mountains of Montana while he blew out the candles. These memories are priceless. So you might understand my pure elation at the fact that last week, I was planning on taking my very own road trip. No RV, no Kremer crew of 6, but just lil’ ol’ me, with my co-pilot Finley, in my trusty Subaru. Destination: Missoula, Montana.
Obviously, my co-pilot is a big help. Keeping tabs on directions, looking for road signs, playing slug-a-bug. Or not.
First things first. You must stop at a weird gas station, outside of the city, one of those big marts along the freeway that kinda has everything you could need. Like this place….!
Warrior’s Quick Stop? That sounds like a place I need to spend some money at. Bottled Starbucks drink? Check. Wasabi peas? Double check. A big t-shirt with an Indian Chief on it? Mmmmm, maybe next time.