the angel of safe journeys

I have been wished good and safe travels from those dear to me and those I have passed briefly while journeying. This angel hangs on a wall at St. Mary's in Sewanee, Tennessee. She exudes grace, beauty and quiet strength. I'll carry her and my friends' wishes with me as I journey on each day.

Somewhere in the back of my brain, however, which can resemble a fairly disheveled attic without a heads up (look! we're having a disheveled brain moment!), I decided that the key to a successful road trip was putting as many miles in a day as one could do without succumbing to serious physical or psychological damage. Fortunately the wisdom and clunkiness of aging also allow me to reconsider such lunacy. I don't have to pull 18-hour driving days - or even half of that. But oh how those old ideas die slowly. Somewhere in my cellular memory is the utter conviction that if I drive forever, I've done well.

"It's Friday night. Book the room online now, don't just drive 'until it feels right' or you begin hallucinating." An inner wise parent and the Holy Spirit are coming through.

So instead of fueling the hours on the road with more than too much caffeine, just enough pure water to nod in the direction of hydration, listening to my Fr. Tom 12-Step CD collection once more, the occasional stop and blurry-eyed glance through kitsch shops with funky postcards AND that slightly naughty sense of I'll drive until I'm damn well done driving, thank you very much, I have a room booked for tonight. I feel so boring. I also feel as though I'm acting mildly intelligently. 

I drove through a fairly severe thunderstorm yesterday about an hour to the east of Memphis while driving westbound on Hwy. 64. I had checked the weather on TV and online that morning and noticed the band of heavy thunderstorms moving slowly N/NE. Well, by golly, they were right. Cartoon scary movie lightning bolts shot through the charcoal gray skies while rain pelted my little car. I slowed. I thanked God for my new Michelin tires. I dialed 511 and tried the voice prompts to check for flooding alerts. The obsequious recorded voice, who otherwise sounded like a rather hunky guy, could not make out my clearly articulated words. The failures of voice recognition systems were again demonstrated this morning while I watched the Weather Channel with the sound muted. The text read, "Saddle light images show......" Well giddy-yup meteorology! So it rained, I drove slowly, I got Google Maps up on my iPhone (which checks for traffic but not sinkholes as far as I can tell), I prayed, I called two friends to ask them to check for floods, I made it.

Today I'm leaving Lonoke, Arkansas. A Super 8 Motel. Tonight, a Holiday Inn Express in ..... come on, be nice, I'm not a kid anymore..... Oklahoma City! 358 miles give or take. See you then.