There’s something about pulling onto the Interstate and heading out of town that makes me dream of another vacation.
Just as I stared up at the clouds as a kid on summer break, wondering where those airplanes in the sky were going and what sorts of adventures the passengers were in the midst of, as an adult, I check out the license plates of fellow travelers and daydream about their destinations.
I was on my way back to the office from an assignment near Beaver Creek recently when I saw license plates from Washington state to Maine, Texas and Florida, Utah and Indiana. There were minivans packed with luggage, cars loaded with camping gear and motorhomes cruising to their next state park.
Oh, how I longed to be on an adventure of my own. In a way, I suppose I was. My job had taken me out from behind my desk to visit with a farm family and talk about the travels their ancestors made before settling on a Rock County farm. Not many people, I suppose, can say they get to do that during the course of their work day.
At this point, I’m not planning any big trips this summer. A scan of my calendar over the weekend revealed just three weekends between now and Labor Day in which I have absolutely nothing planned.
Just as I say that, however, I’m hoping to plan a little trip to Alexandria to fish with my cousin (I saw pictures of his recent sunfishing expedition during a graduation party at New London on Saturday), and I would love to experience the northern Minnesota cabin rental at some point.
There are so many things to do, and so little time to do it all before the snow flies once again!