Behind the roadtrip

Hi Anna's Readers,

As my first official guest-blogging act, I thought I would add a few stories to her already-stirring account of the road trip. I'm doing this for two reasons: 1) revealing previously unknown information makes you more popular, and 2) revealing previously unknown goofs and follies (mostly by me) makes it seem even more remarkable that the road trip came off well, instead of ending with us placing a late-night emergency call to AAA or being carried off by flies.

Death punch
Anna mentioned that we started out late on our first official day of the road trip because "we" drank too much of the fizzy gin death punch that we brew up once a year to celebrate summer. That was pure charity, folks. Anna drank sensible amounts of death punch. I, on the other hand, chose a very dainty glass and fooled myself into believing this meant I was drinking correspondingly dainty portions of punch. Not so. I threw up generous amounts while still at our host's apartment (sorry Steve) and then even more generous amounts after the walk back to my place. I was incapacitated until 11am, when Anna ingeniously made me bacon to hurry my hangover recovery. An inauspicious beginning, I think you'll agree.

A kindness well repaid
When we awoke the day after our drive to Maine, we were flush with the previous evening's unexpected victory over Maine's high motel occupancy rate. Plus, we had the prospect of Civil War Reenactment fueling our good moods! But when we drove to the place where we'd spotted the reenactment sign the night before, we realized the actual event was at a place we'd never heard of. Never fear, we thought, and drove over to a nearby house to ask a man outside for directions. Anna popped out and he was so nice and gave us very detailed directions. She got back in the car, and as we were excitedly discussing the directions, I IMMEDIATELY backed into his mother's car. There was *maybe* a four second gap between the time he stopped being generous toward us, and the time I collided with his family vehicle. If it had been a conditioning exercise designed to teach him not to be kind to strangers, it would have been enormously effective. Fortunately, I had been going very slowly and there was no damage. His mother came out to inspect the car and, predictably, could not have been more kind. She even wished us a good trip. Thanks, friendly strangers! I'm sorry I wasn't more competent.

The recruits who brought down the North
As soon as we arrived at the civil war reenactment, we were again overwhelmed by enthusiasm. After funneling this enthusiasm into trying on Civil War outfits and learning trivia, we accepted their invitation to fall in and do some Civil War-style marching. The first thing that was required of all troops and recruits was to stand in two parallel lines and count off by ones and twos. Unfortunately, this was beyond us. I immediately forgot my number and had to ask the woman beside me what it was, causing her to hiss "don't forget your number!" at me at appropriate intervals during the entire rest of the half-hour exercise. Anna also immediately forgot her number. She also asked the people beside her for assistance, but actually confused them and caused them to forget their numbers as well. A job well done by both of us! We both giggled a LOT when we realized we'd made the same mistake. On the plus side, we did get to give three cheers for Lincoln at the end, which I have always wanted to do.

The assault on our ankles
Upon arriving at Anna's great aunt's home in Isleboro, we had some time on our hands so we went for a walk down to the beach. I happily skipped stones along the water while Anna lounged nearby on rocks, patiently listening to me ask if she saw *that* awesome skipping effort. What we did not realize was that Maine, in a stern, New England-like fashion, austerely rejects casual interlopers into her environment by deploying swarms of vicious bugs. By the time we finished our evening of girlish frolic we were both covered in bites from our ankles to shins, and I had some sort of mysterious half-inch-long series of 3 gashes, as if a moderately sized fly had grown T-Rex claws and attacked my arm with them. We were both up half the night scratching, but tried to keep it a secret, because Aunt Mimi had repeatedly emphasized that we were to wear bug spray at all times.

I give into my natural urges
We're both key, wallet and cellphone losers, so it was near-miraculous that we didn't lose any of those items during the trip itself. However, as soon as we arrived back in New York, I immediately let my baser instincts overcome me and locked the keys in the trunk. We didn't discover this until the next morning, when we turned my apartment upside down looking for them and even embarked on a search through the recycling bin (where I thought I might have thrown them away) and my dirty laundry (where I thought they might have fallen out of the pockets). Luckily (again!) Budget had given us a car with a keypad on the door, so we were able to open the door without resorting to a locksmith or (my suggestion) crafting our own slimjim. I actually went so far as to look up the New York penal code to see if possessing a slimjim would be a crime, and I think it might be.

All this and it was still a fantastically successful road trip! We were both immensely thankful for our good luck, and I hope said luck extends to my as-yet-unplanned trip to South America. I head to Lima in a few days, followed by Cusco, a hike on the Lares trail, a trip to Lake Titicaca, and then to Buenos Aires. Prepare for lost keys and minor motor vehicle mayhem, South America!