According to Dictionary.com a vacation is: "a period of suspension of work, study, or other activity, usually used for rest, recreation, or travel."
I remember loading up the 1960 Ford Fairlane station wagon and traveling through North Dakota, Montana (Tip-Top Motel in Wolf Point), Idaho, Washington (I fell off a swing and went unconscious), Oregon, California, Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, and South Dakota (Mt. Rushmore + Wall Drug) before returning home. Endless hours in the car, picnic meals, no air conditioning, getting a turn to sleep in the station wagon instead of the motel, no advanced reservations, no chain motels, and natural beauty beyond the dreams of a southern Minnesota farm kid. This was a rare occurrence for my family which held and still evokes a certain romanticism.
|Heat for a cold night.|
|The view from the modern bathroom.|
|Stream along the cabin trail.|
|View from the cabin porch.|
In the morning I moved the vehicle from the street in order to get close to what I needed to load. The rain was beginning to fall. With the car loaded and hugs shared I went to start the car. It was completely dead once again. The prior ritual had no effect this time. Was it clockwise or counterclockwise first? 😕 A phone call and BOOM! A tow truck loaded the car and I exchanged it without a hassle.
Experiencing diverse beauty, being in an area where COVID-19, masking, and distancing are alien, listening to thought provoking podcasts while hiking, being challenged by my daughter on perspectives and patterns of behavior, all while realizing that life is good, produced a reality while not the reminiscent romanticism of vacations past it was indeed a rare gift! Returning to my routines while easy and safe does not provide the stimulation I experienced on this time way. I have found that definitions do not always determine reality.
|Halloween decoration in the city.|