Come What May

Both my husband and I are as much “spontaneous plan changers” as we are procrastinators.  In this opposites attract marriage, this is a fortunate combination of similarities.  It’s especially fortunate when we’re planning a road trip.  While we’re putting off getting ready, a lot of editing to the schedule occurs.  We set tentative dates that include wiggle room at either end.  The closer the date gets, the more we wiggle.

“Let’s get there in two days instead of one.”

“Okay.”

See?  See how easy that was?

Once, we were so exhausted after packing the minivan to the gills, we unpacked lawn chairs, pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge and had a tailgate party in our driveway, while staring at all our camping stuff.  It felt like we were camping.  But without the long drive  to New York.  It was nice.  The next morning we were able to rise with the sun, hop in the car and arrive before sunset with energy left over to set up camp.

This year, a couple days before our annual July 4^th family reunion/campout in the Catskills, where the rest of my family and their children meet up, I announced to Skye: “Ya wanna visit my parents for the first half of the week and only spend three days at the campsite?  Take the boys to Canada?”

“Sure.  Why not?”

The day before the trip, Skye announces, “Hey, Elmira is sort of on the way to your parents’ house in Clayton.  Ya wanna go there first and check out the International Vintage Sailplane Meet?  Tour the National Soaring Museum?”

“A-kay.”

Having “schedule flexibility” opens doors.  Big, wide barn doors.  Apparently Divine Providence needs a lot of wiggle room, too, in order to orchestrate coincidences and surprises along the way.  This goes for any journey.  Putting out a “come what may” shingle seems to draw interesting things onto our path that we would definitely have missed if we were hellbent on sticking to a certain road at a certain time under no uncertain conditions if it killed us.

We rolled into the parking lot of the Soaring Museum after hitting the road two days beyond our original schedule.  Gliders are lined up, resting on one wing, at the end of the runway, waiting in line for a rope tow by a single-engine plane.  The Air Force brat in me comes out when I see all the two-seater planes taking off the runway every few minutes, flying right past me at eye level.  I want to photograph every plane at every angle.

Skye takes the boys into the museum and I have ditched them in the pursuit of good angles.  An hour goes by and I’m still taking pictures at the end of the runway, talking to some guys with pocket protectors and socks pulled up too high.

Meanwhile, Maggie is rolling wildly in the field.  She’s hot, I think.  She’s cooling off.  Then I see it.  She is covered in crap.  She can’t get in the car again smelling like that!  We still have a four-hour drive ahead of us!  One of the pocket protectors tells me that he saw a hose hooked up to the outside of the museum.  Coincidence?

I’m muttering to Maggie on the walk back to the museum, scolding her about her rolling-in-shit habit and how she needs to think before she rolls, and just say no.  I look up and I see my 13-year old son, running quickly toward me.  A happy run, not an emergency.  He’s ahead of the rest of the family who is approaching me with big smiles.  They’re coming to find me to show me something, obviously, but what?  Walking along the fence toward me are two women.  They look familiar but I always think that about strangers in a crowd.  Why are they smiling at me?  I look away.  I look back.  They’re still smiling at me, and walking toward me.  I look away.  Then it registers.  It’s my nieces!  What are Joy and Beth doing here!??

For Beth’s birthday, Joy bought her a glider ride and one for herself, too.  They weren’t taking off for a few more hours.  We walked over to the museum to use the hose.  I borrowed the faucet key from the museum store cashier who handed it to me very sneakily and told me not to tell anyone.  To repay her for the enormous favor I bought the girls a couple of t-shirts from her shop to commemorate their special day.  They changed into them immediately and we took pictures.

Beth, the birthday girl, goes up first.

After her ride, Joy helps the pilot at the nose push the glider into the hangar before it rains.  Joy won’t be at the camping trip later in the week.  She has to work. If we hadn’t gone this way on this day we wouldn’t have seen her for another year.

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