By spring break, I was desperate for sun, warm sun. We have a lot of sunny days in Central Oregon, but the heat doesn’t usually hit until July. So, we packed up and set out toward Death Valley.
Getting ready for a tent-camping trip with five girls in tow is an enormous endeavor. It takes extended financial and menu planning and an entire day of packing and prepping. Still, there’s that moment when we get in the car and glance over at each other with a big sigh because the worst part is over.
Then, we lean back in the seat, say a prayer, turn on the music and smile because we’re embarking on an adventure. It’s always worth it.
Even after hours of driving.
Because we never know what we’re going to see.
Like glimpsing our first Joshua tree while Bono belts out “where the streets have no name…”
Or stopping on a whim at the ghost town of Rhyolite.
We witnessed some strange things there.
A house made of glass bottles.
And sculptures which gave off a weird vibe …
These whims where we say ‘yes’ to spontaneity often pay off. In fact, I only remember the ones that pay off. Either the stops that don’t pay off don’t exist or they are forgettable.
Keeping a loose hold on the schedule prepares us for that sense of wonder to alight upon us wherever we go.