Date Drivin’

As someone who was born and raised in New England, the desolation of the desert still amazes me even though we’ve been in California for forty years.   As we make the 6.5 hour drive from San Tan Valley, Arizona to Anaheim Hills, California, I often wonder what it must have been like the first time settlers encountered the desert.  It’s not hard to imagine because for a substantial percentage of the drive, there’s absolutely no sign of civilization except Interstate Route 10 stretching out to the horizon to the East and West.   I find it ruggedly beautiful, especially as the sun sinks lower, silhouetting Saguaro cacti and casting shadows of the hills across the rocky flatlands.   And the sky is just bigger here.

When we first began making the trek to and from Arizona, we’d try to be on the road by nine or ten am.  This required starting our cleaning and closing routine for our Little House the night before departure.  It also raised the question of what to do about lunch on that long drive through the middle of nowhere.  There aren’t many options.

There's Quartzsite ...

there's Blythe ...

and there's Chiriaco Summit.

So, do you get my drift?

Then we came up with the idea of a Date Drive.  Just calling it a date changes the entire mood.   We get up whenever we’re ready, have breakfast and close the Little House at a leisurely pace, getting on the road just before lunch.  This allows us to have a lunch date at a nice restaurant (usually the Paradise Bakery and Cafe).  If anyone ever takes you to Quartzsite, Blythe or Chiriaco Summit for a lunch date, ask to be taken home immediately.   We take our time on the road and stretch our legs at every rest stop (important for oldsters), each taking a turn to nap before we reach the California border.  At some point, we’ll receive the Greatest Parents Ever text message from our daughter, telling us she’s sorry she didn’t appreciate us enough while we were there.   I hope someday she learns to appreciate in the present tense.   There will be oldies on the Sirius XM radio and laughs about things the grandkids did as we drive.  We’ll stop in Quartzsite or Blythe for gas and chuckle about how nice it is not to be eating there.

The late departure and leisurely pace puts us in La Quinta, California, at dinner time.   To call La Quinta an oasis would be an insult.   It is a city of beautiful homes built around spectacular championship golf courses in the foothills of the Santa Rosa Mountains, all landscaped with tropical plants and flora.   Our Minnesota friends, Barb and Stan vacation there every year so we have a list of fine restaurants from which to choose.   I think we’ll go to The Fisherman’s Market and Grill this time.   By the time we get back on the road, it’s dark and road trip fever starts to set in.   There are impromptu sing-alongs with old songs on the radio or even a cappella.   By the time we roll into Riverside County, we’re talking like our grandkids and laughing hysterically or saying, If this drive was a half hour longer, we’d be really crazy.   At some point, a text from my son appears … Could you pick me up something to eat? … reminding us we need to be grown-ups again.   Then, we’re climbing the hill up Weir Canyon Road, holding hands, ready to be back in the real world.  Date Drivin’ is the only way to travel.

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Tags: family, fatherhood, grandchildren, gratitude, marriage, play, postaday2011, smiles, travel

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