Been sitting behind the computer dealing with tax crap too long? Check.
Everyone getting sick because they’ve been cooped up in the house too long? Check.
Yup. Definitely road trip time.
Linguini family road trips are more memorable than any planned vacation we’ve ever taken. On vacation, we know where we’re going and why because we’ve researched it thoroughly due to the huge cash outlay required. Road trips are spontaneous and there is no guarantee that the direction you are heading will yield anything exciting. Vacations require a week’s worth of packing. Road trips, if any luggage at all is required, are throw-a-toothbrush-in-the-bag affairs, with a change of underwear and socks. In fact, vacations can feature several road trips.
And don’t think we just pick a direction and head that way. Noooooo…that would be much too obvious. We’ve got a destination in mind, usually via Roadside America (the website, not the model railroading extravaganza in
We try to confine road trips to one day, but we’ve pretty much consumed all the local cheese.
The best part of road trips isn’t always the destination we originally planned. Road markers were made for people like us. All those plaques pounded into concrete sidewalks commemorating some event no one remembers? We read every one of them and have to find out why they’re there. Only the Linguinis would plan a trip to
This is where Dirtman shines as the road trip king. Dirtman is genuinely interested in people because he finds the behind-the-scenes workings of even the most mundane operations fascinating, thereby making the people doing them feel fascinating. People will tell him about the local attractions they usually keep for themselves. They give us things. We get tours and free food and all kinds of extras.
I remember taking the water taxi at
So, because of Dirtman, we’ve seen an oasis in the middle of the Nevada desert, received free fossils from a tour guide in Wyoming, knew to go here instead of here (“It smells really bad,” our bellhop told us.) when we were in Utah, got to see vernal pools, real and imagined, in San Diego and, on our honeymoon, toured a gravestone quarry (a story in and of itself…) in Vermont.
I do, however, have to credit my cousin with showing us the studio where Jimi Hendrix started out and the gay bar where Thomas Paine lived that’s named after my aunt, both in