Seattle to Portland - Day 14: Home again, home again

9:18 a.m.
Heck yeah, we are back in the Midwest. It is already over 80 and humid as can be. Luckily, the truck has air. I am not usually all about air, but sometimes, you gotta have it.

The truck is actually a bit like a hamster cage. The aquarium type, not the ones with little metal bars. We are in this box, windows on three sides, looking out on everything but not interacting with it. We have a stash of food and some water bottles so we are all set to hang for a while. In fact, when we do stop, there is a slight feeling of reluctance to leave this safe little haven and venture out into the big, scary world. Well, about half a second of reluctance. I also now understand why my sister’s hamsters kept escaping when we were kids. And they even had extra tubes to play in.

9:24 a.m.
I still do not have a mocha. Last night as we were winding our way back to the Super 8 – the only option available without another 30 minutes of driving and I believe I mentioned my reluctance – I noticed a sign for Under Ground. It was not open so not well lit, but I totally thought I had found a local coffee shop that would provide for my happiness in the morning. Yeah right. When you read the sign in the light of day it says Under Ground Graphics and they appear to print t-shirts. So much for that!

Had I not been positive that I was all hooked up, I could have looked up the nearest Starbucks while in he hotel. Nope – can’t say that I thought of that until far too late.

So here I am, riding along, with NO MOCHA! I am slightly less than chipper this morning,

9:31 a.m.
THERE IS A STARBUCKS AT EXIT 75! I just scared the crap out of MV.

9:44 a.m.
I have a mocha.

9:45 a.m.
Now we come to the “ain’t karma a bitch” portion of the story. See, on the way out of Starbucks, I asked if I should drive. MV says, “No, you will spill your mocha and we will have to go all the way back to get another one.” So we head out on the road. Apparently the lid was not put on MV’s coffee tightly. Now he only has 2 oz of coffee and wet feet.

I, on the other hand, am happily (not smugly at all) chewing the center out of the brie from my cheese and apple tray and sipping my giant mocha.

12:13 p.m.
We have more Starbucks. I am again happily eating the center out of the brie, accompanied this time by a shaken lemonade and iced tea. MV as cleared his karma issues and gets to have his coffee this time – all of it that is.

I again offered to drive, but MV wants to do it. I am starting to believe it is not because he feels that he needs to be the driver, but instead because he is not good at being the passenger. Being the passenger is a very important job. And not often very exciting unless you make it that way. Sometimes as the passenger, you have to:

• Read out loud the states from every license plate that passes.
• Read the map and not get the river names wrong. (which is surprisingly more difficult than you would think)
• Provide musical entertainment if you forgot the CDs.
• Look at magazines to find interesting bits of articles to highlight for the driver.
• Not comment when you don’t agree with a driving move.
• Write the blog.
• Wiggle around a lot (well, maybe not a requirement, but it helps pass time).
• Nap.
• Periodically ask, “So, how you doin’ over there?”
• And, of course, announce the baby cows.

I have a great talent for being the passenger. I feel I bring a certain flair to the job.

5:48 p.m.
We are so close. But someone has to pee. And we are stuck in traffic near Ann Arbor. Ugh! But MV is nice and makes a stop after someone threatens to pee out the window.

6:30 p.m.
We arrive home. The cats celebrate.