For whatever reason, there is ALWAYS pre-vacation trepidation. In the weeks and days prior to us hitting the road there is this little red neon sign in my head, "Warning! Flash Flood of Worry Advisory Until Take Off". It doesn't help that nearly everything that can go wrong, does go wrong. It's always a frustrating time for me. I feel like I "should" be able to just be excited without all the pre-planning worry. That's what I get for "shoulding".
There's kids to get organized. Rallying my village of those who look out for my kids while I'm away. Making sure everyone knows what's going on and where they will be. I NEVER leave town without being certain there is a list of family and friends keeping an eye on my kids. And still, leaving them is hard, even though I know they will be taken care of and cared for.
There's dog and house sitting to arrange. Writing up a list of tasks for the kids to do that I normally take care of. There's the packing and making sure all the necessities of road life are prepacked to save time trying to hunt down anything that I may have forgotten in an unfamiliar town. It's preparing for the unexpected, because everything is unexpected on the road. There's the financial anxiety that always presents itself in full black tie attire. I learned a long time ago, if you always wait until you think you can afford to do something you may never do it. So, I cover all the absolute bases beforehand. Make sure the bills are paid and rat hole whatever I can for the trip (which is usually not much). The up side to traveling on a motorcycle is that it is relatively inexpensive. You can go a long way on little cash. The BWG takes care of most of this part. He figures up our ride budget and generally leaves me with little to worry about. But still I worry. It's like cramming a year's worth of "normal life" worry into a week. However, life is not "normal" on the road.
I know that 50 miles down the road, all that worry will have dissipated into the asphalt behind us. On the road it's simple to just accept what is and roll with it (and if it's not you've chosen the wrong road). I try very hard to bring that home with me but I have to admit, the monotony of everyday life seems to steal my "oh well, it is what it is, enjoy it anyway" attitude.
This year we opted to do the ride alone. We will spend six nights on the road roaming Colorado. It will be our longest time out to date. We are both VERY grateful for the extra days we will have this year. More days on the road = more letting go. Letting go requires traveling light and small. For us, it means traveling solo.
I think every couple has their own way of doing things. The BWG and I have a great flow of working together (most of the time, LOL). Being on the road as a couple is actually pretty easy for us. The miles bring us together in a way that everyday life does not. If you're riding in the rain, you're both getting wet. If you're riding in the wind, you're both feeling it push you around. If it's cold, you're both cold. It's truly a cohesive blend of the unexpected. You're both experiencing whatever is happening at the exact same time. The perspectives may not always be exact, but those few differing perspectives only enhance the experience. It's a dance where neither of us misses a step. It's simple, it's easy, it's leaving the day to day crap behind and remembering why we even choose to spend our lives together.
That's not to say that we've not had difficult moments on the road. We have. But ONLY when one of us forgot the importance of being a team. That teamwork is CRITICAL when you're traveling on a motorcycle. If someone screws up, it impacts you both. Just like the rain, wind, and cold. There have been moments when one of us has forgotten, and we both paid the price. Through experience and miles you learn. Screwing up isn't a very good option on the road. Not when you're a thousand miles from home.
These upcoming six nights will be different. You add more days and the dynamic of how you do things HAS to change. It's going to be an adventure. It's going to be a learning curve. It's going to be a lot of reminding of what life is really about. Daily worries will disappear and be replaced with the here and now. That knowledge alone with pull me through the next 30 hours of worry hell. That hell is only temporary. By the time we land tomorrow night, I will have slid right in to my wanderlust and embrace the days of ultimate freedom before me. It will be an easy embrace, knowing that the freedom is only temporary as well ... for now.