“Yeah, I don’t care,” he said, when I asked which tent to get. “Just, you know, anything but red.”

“Why?”

“It’s just too bright. Doesn’t seem ‘natury’”

So, of course, it was red. The only one left.

I bought it, and now that’s me, Red, your traveling companion.

The guy in the store said, “We don’t have them, but I would definitely recommend a tarp, especially if you’re going out West.”

So I got one of those, too, about four times larger than we would need. And that became Blue, your other traveling companion. (Or, you know, the actual companion companion whose moniker is Blue, since Red’s been taken).

Really, the trip was a simple bit of gluttony. A hunger to escape the rigidity of airline schedules, to avoid breathing exhausted recycled air… And, too, all the other indignities of traveling at 600 mph, up there in the atmosphere, rushing back to the surface, tense, tired and disoriented.

Why not 60 mph across the country, coast to coast (almost). That would be quite a bit – not rushed.

So the plan was one week of travel going, a site-seeing week in between, and then a week to get back. Excellent restorative and a refreshed, renewed sense of purpose upon return.

It took, instead, 42 days. Happily.