A friend of mine lives about an hour away. Well, I’d say two of my best friends live about an hour away. But the one friend – Cody’s his name – is in the process of rehabilitating a house before his move-in date at the beginning of April.
So Husband and I went on an adventure.
We arrived a bit later than expected. Mostly because mornings are hard. And when we got to the house we discovered that the plan was to tear apart the front porch, as it has become a general hazard to life, liberty and the pursuit of foot safety.
We spent a happy couple of hours tearing things up, using appropriate hand wear and throwing a lot of stuff in the trash.
Since I have a headache list of food allergies I got to choose the lunch option – Five Guys if anyone is interested – and after eating we were pretty bushed for the rest of the day. So we loaded up the wood and trash and called it good. Husband and I started out for home.
This was a new area of town for us, so when we started back we thought we knew where we were going, but apparently we were out of the loop. Hey look, that’s the exit for our highway home!
It was not the highway home.
It was a twisty, pretty, slooow side highway through farms and gorgeous fields and not the place we needed to be. I checked my phone – hey that’s where we are on the map! And we thought, well, we’ll just take this road up here and connect to the highway.
We took that road.
It did not connect to the highway. In fact, we were forced to wave at our needed highway as we passed over it to the other side. From my momentarily unable-to-load phone we determined that this was not the way we should go, unless we were keen on getting more lost in rural Missouri.
So we turned around. Back to our old friend, the scenic route.
When we arrived back with our old friend my phone loaded and I saw what appeared to be another road further down that would take us back to our highway. We set off, blasting 80s hits with the windows down (did I mention that it’s SPECTACULAR today?). The road we needed appeared in a flash, so we took it happily, still blasting tunes (and I was dancing, not gonna lie).
I said, “Oh, this is that weird on-ramp thing,” as we made the customary right turn to get back on the highway. We took it at an incredibly fast speed – the highway is 70mph – and as the road fell away there was a split second of comprehension.
This road was not a highway entrance.
This road dropped off into a chasm right in front of us.
This road was perforated with a dozen cracks, holes and blemishes.
We were about to fly off into the next world.
I screamed, “Not a highway entrance!”
Husband swerved. We careened down the center of what appeared to be a completely neglected frontage road, tire narrowly missing the edge of the precipice that separated us from the highway home.
Laughing my head off, unable to even talk, I continued to dance to the music, as Husband dodged pothole after pothole, crack after pointless crack, and we both watched the highway to home run parallel to our path, just beyond the edge of our ability to join it.
I laughed and I tried to speak. And I laughed more. He laughed, somehow perplexed and then elated that this was my response to our near death experience.
Finally a real highway entrance materialized in front of us. We rejoined the highway with smiles and me laughing again, “yay a real highway entrance!”
It was the best driving adventure with Husband so far.
(Feel free to comment with feedback, questions or adventures of your own!)