It’s ten o’clock and we’re off, fueled by Egg McMuffins and Starbucks. We have a girl’s car and a boy’s car. Georgie’s husband has a stack of magazines that he’s trying to hide as he gets into the boy’s car.
“Porn?” I ask.
“Motorcycle magazines,” he says, which we both agree is kind of like porn for men over forty.
In the girl’s car we sing, eat Bugles, gossip and most shockingly (since we all admit to being frivolous) is talk about politics in the form of Portland’s new garbage policy. The consensus, we hate the garbage policy but love Bugles.
Miles covered: 400
Fights averted: shockingly only one
Strange items packed: A box of rocks by Child #2
Rest stops visited: two
Lessons learned: When the gas light goes on don’t ignore it. The boys got lucky and managed to coast to a gas station.