The Sprint Home
We were planning to visit my cousin in Grass
Valley Sunday night, but he had a business commitment that came up so we
had to cancel that. A quick poll among the family and we decided to just
sprint all the way home. (Four for, none against, and one abstaining. Dogs
don't understand how to vote.) This meant a nine or ten hour drive from the
launch site in Black Rock to home in Atherton.
We kept one stop on the itinerary, though, and that was to visit my father's
grave in Nevada City. He passed away last November at the age of 88 and we
all miss him dearly. When I was growing up we had three different motorhomes
over the years, and spent many summer weeks traveling in them. Many of the
stops I planned on this trip were stops I enjoyed as a kid on those trips.
He would have loved to see us following in his tire treads.
As we were getting out of the motorhome to walk over to the grave, Eric noticed that one of the rear tires was very low on air. When we returned it was flat. Clearly my dad didn't think we were spending enough time with him, so he arranged to have us stay longer. It took an additional 45 minutes for the AAA tow truck to come and change the tire (something even a Motorcoach Commander can't do on his own with a rig this size).
We grabbed dinner in Auburn after that and then shot straight home. We made it by about 11pm. It's funny, I thought I'd be thrilled to be home after that long on the road but in reality, as I write this on Tuesday afternoon, I miss being out there.
We kept one stop on the itinerary, though, and that was to visit my father's
grave in Nevada City. He passed away last November at the age of 88 and we
all miss him dearly. When I was growing up we had three different motorhomes
over the years, and spent many summer weeks traveling in them. Many of the
stops I planned on this trip were stops I enjoyed as a kid on those trips.
He would have loved to see us following in his tire treads. As we were getting out of the motorhome to walk over to the grave, Eric noticed that one of the rear tires was very low on air. When we returned it was flat. Clearly my dad didn't think we were spending enough time with him, so he arranged to have us stay longer. It took an additional 45 minutes for the AAA tow truck to come and change the tire (something even a Motorcoach Commander can't do on his own with a rig this size).
We grabbed dinner in Auburn after that and then shot straight home. We made it by about 11pm. It's funny, I thought I'd be thrilled to be home after that long on the road but in reality, as I write this on Tuesday afternoon, I miss being out there.