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Because of our recent adventures in moving, we’ve had to travel between our old home in Murrells Inlet and our new home in Asheville several times. The five hour trip can be particularly challenging because the last stretch between I-95 and Murrells Inlet can’t be done by interstate. We can choose the most common route, four-lane roads shared with the thousands of Myrtle Beach tourists, or the less-traveled route along two-lane backroads.
An earlier foray taught me the need to fuel my tank prior to taking the country route. Gas stations are sparse, so running on empty is not advised. You don’t see many people along these lonely stretches, unless you count a farmer on a tractor deep in a field well away from the pavement.
The challenge with the back route is you must maneuver many turns. Some are forks in the road. Some are crossroads. Few have traffic lights as oncoming traffic is rare. Stop signs suffice.
Every few miles, I depress the brake, switch on the turn signal, and navigate the next turn. Each time I do, the same thing happens. Four furry heads pop up in my rear-view mirror asking that time-honored question on long trips—”Are we there yet?”
Interstate travel doesn’t require stopping and turning, except for the occasional accident slowing traffic, but country roads do. And my dogs are convinced that each stop and each turn signal must mean we’re home, whether old home or new doesn’t matter to them. When I accelerate through the intersection to the next segment of the trip, they plop back down, release large sighs, and wait for the next time.
Brake. Turn signal. Woo which is Siberian Husky for “Are we there yet?” Accelerate. A chorus of sighs. Over and over and over.
As you read this, we’re making our last trip between houses. We close on the sale of the Murrells Inlet house this week. The next time we venture to the coast, probably this fall, will be for vacation. Yes, we’ll take the backroads. And, yes, I fully expect to be asked over and over, “Are we there yet?”
Gratuitous Dog Picture
Frankie Suave is the easiest going of all of the dogs, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make clear his demands. In this case, Hu-Dad needs to stop typing, grab a leash, and head out for the afternoon walk. And, yes, Frankie gets his way.
Books I’m Reading / Interesting Links
Sorry, but moving (and walking the dogs per Frankie’s request) has eaten up all of my spare time. These sections will return next week!
Background title image courtesy Matt Hardy.