Travelogue: The Last Leg

Following our visit to Michigan State, we had scheduled a tour at the University of Michigan. All this scheduling and making reservations was starting to wear on me. Thus far not much on the trip had been spontaneous and while we had been having a lot of fun, I was ready for a little less structure. Nevertheless, we were looking forward to visiting U of M. Neither Steve nor I had spent much time there when we were younger and we were all curious to see if it would be a good fit for Anna.

It was another gloriously beautiful day and, while U of M was different from MSU, we enjoyed the tour of campus. Our rosy-cheeked guide picked up the enthusiasm where I’d left off previously so exuberance remained in good supply. Anna was impressed with the campus and we ended the tour by finding a delicious Mediterranean restaurant. In all it was another lovely, informative, and delightful day.

We had planned to move on to the western coast of Michigan to explore the Grand Traverse Bay area the following day. This was where our planning had ended. We didn’t know where our final few days would take us and we were open to just seeing what seemed interesting.

Meanwhile, we were keeping up with what was happening at home. Parker had flown back to Colorado and we had been getting updates about the wildfires from both the boys and the news. It was such a sad story. Beautiful Colorado with vibrant blue skies and fragrant green forests was being roasted by multiple forest fires and soaring three digit temperatures. Homes were burning, animals were flooding shelters, acres of forest were being destroyed. I cried every time I heard the news. I couldn’t do anything to stop the fires but my soul was troubled by it all. I called some friends, whose home I knew was only a wind shift away from being in the fire’s path, to find out how they were faring. They had prepared as best they could, putting things they considered valuable in storage and waiting to see what each moment would bring. I was on vacation but I was hearing news of the heat. And the fire. And the smoke.

Nero kept coming to mind.

We spent the following day in the Traverse City area and that evening over a dinner of cherry pie (we were in Traverse City, afterall!) there was a certain look in each of our eyes. A look that said it was time to go home. Although we had planned to have a few more 'unplanned' days on the road, we all agreed that we had done what we wanted to do and seen what we wanted to see. Our hearts now just wanted to return to our beloved Colorado, scorched and hot as it was.

It didn’t make a lot of sense. Longings of the heart often don’t. I wanted to see my man-children, my cats, and my home, feeling especially thankful for what I have when so many had lost so much.

The next morning we pointed our little Jeep west and searched its interior for a recorded book to listen to. Oddly, the only thing we could find was Fahrenheit 451. The hours and miles passed while we listened to Guy Montag wrestle with himself as firemen burned books. On day two, we crossed over the Colorado border just the sun was going down. A smoky haze filled the sky, creating an intense orange sunset, and we were content to be back where we belong.

We had accomplished a lot on our two-week road trip. Our travels were safe, we had ample time to laugh, Steve found places he did and did not want to pursue art, Anna had two additional colleges to consider, we’d seen Steve’s father, and eaten more than our share of fudge. The weather had been perfect, I’d whined only a little, and our joy containers were full to the brim.

In the end, though, we had come back to what we love most. Although currently as hot as hell, this is our little bit of heaven.