I travel in the continental US by car, usually with Frick and Frack. At the moment they are sleeping beside me on the bed at my resting spot at Motel 6 in Deming NM. And here I am writing my blog post for the Ultimate Blog Challenge.
My main route is back and forth along Interstate 10. I live in Sedona and my family is in Texas. People ask me how far it is. I say about 14 hours because that’s the length of the audio books which take me from door to door.
There are so many wonderful people in this country. Sure, there are the jerks, but I can’t say I’ve met many on my travels.
One day this tough looking biker guy stopped me as I was getting in my car. “Ma’am, are these yours?” He held in his hand a collection of cards which had fallen unnoticed out of my aluminum card case. There were two debit cards, my driver’s license and a number of extraneous cards.
Today, as I was walking the little guys after we got to Motel 6, this couple stopped me. “Did you come from Texas?” “Yes, I did.” “We were next to you getting gas earlier today. We saw your dogs in the front seat of your car in their crate.” They were walking their tiny Shih Tzu and I was walking Frick and Frack.
One trip to Jackson Hole to be at my niece’s wedding, I spent a couple of nights at rest stops. The first time I was rather nervous having never done that before. There was a camper there and another guy who didn’t want to pay hotel prices. He was on his way to see family across country.
Outside of Denver there was a rest stop that had a sign that said, “No overnight stays.” There were a slew of cars there. I asked one woman about staying there overnight and she told me they didn’t mind as long as you didn’t cause any trouble. A van catering to the homeless came by providing water and some clothes. She was waiting for low income housing. There was her Mom, three kids and a boy friend. They had a voucher for housing but none was available. It was only good for 6-months and then she has to start all over again and go to the bottom of the wait list.
One day I dropped into a Waffle House in Tennessee. It was busy and I asked a woman about a decade older than me if she’d like to share a booth. Turns out she is a regular there almost every day for breakfast. She moved from Florida because her son was worried about her being down there by herself after her husband, his dad, died. She loved Florida and hates Tennessee but wants to make things easier on her son.
The most important thing I’ve learned is don’t judge the people of our country by the news. Yes, terrible things happen. Yes, there are some terrible people, but they are a small minority. There are wonderful people here. You just have to get out and meet them.