You must take care not to pick up a bug when you travel. However, to travel means you already have a bug – the travel bug. I think mine must have begun when I was a child.
Every summer, my family traveled from Minnesota to either Denver or Seattle. That was the beginning of my travel bug, whether I realized it or not. My mother’s family lived all around us, so we saw them frequently. My father’s family, however, all went west, so we traveled the blue highways before there were Interstate highways.
Most of the stops along the way were either in the middle of Nebraska or in Eastern Idaho. We would scan the roadsides for motels; there was never a need for reservations. Our goal was to spend less than $30.00 for the night. We did travel east once, though I hardly remember it.
My mother traveled all year long – on maps. I think I inherited the map bug, as I have always done the same. When I got older, I scouted out my own trips, studying the maps so intensely that, by the time to trip started, I could travel without a map.
Let me begin my travel sketches here. Please join me for the ride.
