wedding road trip

Electoral College Road Trip

Just for fun, I put together The World’s Most Basic Map of our Wedding Road Trip stops.

(NOTE: I’m an urban planner, and yes I can make decent maps, but there’s a limit to what I can do with Microsoft Paint, which is the most advanced graphics program on my personal laptop.)

I then color-coded the stops by asking the question – at the ceremony, would these people sit on Jaime’s side or my side? That is, do we know them originally through Chris (blue dots), or Jaime (pink – the girly color).

We seem to have some regional trends. Jaime dominates the South, Great Plains, and Mountain states, while my people are mostly in the Midwest and Northeast, and we split the Pacific Northwest. This suggests two things:

1. Jaime may be a red-stater, and I may be a blue-stater (as suggested in the great Flat Tax Debate), and
2. If this was a presidential race, it would be a close election. I need some friends in Virginia so I can pick up its crucial 13 electoral votes.

Of course this is all moot. By the end of the Wedding Road Trip, everyone will be our family and friends, with no pre-nupital to decide who belongs to whom. Although Jaime may decline the option of associating with some of my old college friends.

Our Upcoming “Vacation”

The main reaction we hear when explaining our trip to people is delight and amazement. “That sounds great,” “how cool,” “wish I had done that for our wedding” (that’s my favorite).

However, a surprisingly frequent response is “that sounds so relaxing” or “what a great vacation!” I hate to break it to everyone, but…  this is not going to be a pleasure cruise.

• We’ll be covering 11,000 miles in 42 days, visiting around 38 cities and 200 people. That’s a lot of sensory input.
• Mapquest estimates some of our drives as 14+ hours. I get antsy after 3 hours in a car.
• As a personal dare, we are driving without a CD player or iPod, and just relying on AM radio. (Ok, I’m kidding.)
• iTunes claims I have almost 5 days of music on my laptop. That should cover us for the first quarter of the trip. By the time we reach Philly, we’ll be pretty tired of every song we own and very sick of NPR.
• We won’t be spending more than three nights in any one place, and will be guests of friends and family almost every night.
• We may not like some places. For example, I’m a little edgy about Texas, since I imagine that anyone who’s ever voted to the left of Barry Goldwater is viewed suspiciously outside of Austin. On the other hand, I love BBQ, so Texas is worth the visit for the food alone.
• I still have no idea how we’ll do laundry.

Now don’t me wrong, I am so looking forward to this trip – to see friends and new places, learn different ways of life, and get a break from the ordinary. But there is very little relaxation planned. Every place we are visiting is with the intention of visiting people. We considered side trips to the Outer Banks and Montreal…but we would have had to cut out visits to some friends and that’s not the point of the trip.

Before you feel bad for us, though, Jaime and I already know that we are not fans of relaxing vacations. Last year we went to Mexico for a week and tried relaxing on the beach, just clearing our minds and decompressing. But within a few hours, we were talking with people, playing volleyball or bingo, and planning excursions. We just like being on the go.

And any day you drive from Santa Fe to Dallas for 10 hours, but get to see Oklahoma City for the first time, eat some great BBQ, and visit old friends – well, that’s a good day.

Getting Dirty on the Road

Editor’s note: I know what you’re thinking. That’s not what this post is about, you dirty little strumpet.

At this point, we’ve told most of friends and family about the Wedding Road Trip. Almost without exception, people have responded very positively, with most offering us lodging and some even asking us to stay an extra day (I suspect they need some help with yard work). However, a few have inquired about our sanity or have freely offered up their doubts and questions:

• “That sounds really stressful.”
• “It’s too much time together.”
• “My clothes were stolen in Toledo – never go there.” (we won’t, Uncle Sean)
• “What if the car breaks down?”
• “What happens if you break up?” (which we cover here)
• “The US is really boring, except for [town where I live].”
• “What if you’re pulled over in New Mexico and they discover your fiancée (ahem, Jaime) has an outstanding speeding ticket and arrest her?”

To be honest, the above issues do not concern me. What really scares me is…

How in the hell are we going to do our laundry?

My friends are probably laughing at this point, because they think I am always doing laundry. It isn’t true. I hit the suds once every two weeks, at the most. While I’m waiting for my laundry to finish, I use the time to catch up on phone calls, so it makes sense why my friends think I’m always at the laundromat. And admittedly, I’m a connoisseur of coin-op. Having lived in NYC, Boston, and now SF, I’ve never had a washer and dryer in my apartment. Achieving that is, in fact, my primary adult fantasy (sorry, Cindy Crawford).

But really. We’ll be driving 12 hours in hot weather, showing up in a city for a brief reunion consisting of dinner, questions, sleeping, and then taking off early the next morning. And I know myself. Laundry never wins.

• Going to see a band in Austin vs. doing laundry? Austin wins!
• Stop to see the World’s Largest Ball of Twine vs doing laundry? Twine wins!
• Visiting the Makers Mark distillery vs. doing laundry? Please. No contest.

So… do we schedule time for laundry stops on the road, swinging by Amarillo for a sandwich and a spin cycle?  Or do we force our laundry issues onto the people we visit? You know, just ring the doorbell and say, “Hi! It’s been a long time! Mind if we use the Maytag?” Maybe we should just buy new clothes in each city, flinging the used ones onto I-40?

Let us know if you have ideas, or can recommend any fantastic laundromats on the road.