When I got home, I was asked what I liked best about my trip. I answered, but I hadn’t really thought about it that way.
So I am.
I liked seeing my cousin and his family. Dinner at their house was definitely my favorite evening.
The Balloon Fiesta was really cool, but my enjoyment was a bit dampened by how frigid it was that morning.
Tulsa and Kansas City gave me the strongest out-of-body sensations. Tulsa’s also where I had some of the best service generally, in the persons of Mark at the Gilcrease Museum and Brian at Liberty Laundry. However, the best hotel service, hands down, was in Branson, where Judy was just uber-helpful, and cheery about it. Waiters and waitresses were pretty great everywhere (except maybe in Topeka) but especially at Pi in St. Louis and Cattleman’s in OKC.
The most memorable stretch of road was somewhere between Arkansas and Oklahoma, where I needed to cross the scariest one-lane bridge ever, and do it a little bit blind to whether anything was coming at me the other way.
Though honestly, this is a pretty country; I’m not sorry to have seen any of it.
But mostly I think what I liked best is just that I did it. Even though it was a lot of drive time. Even though I started to freak myself out about it just before I left. Even though I felt lost, literally or metaphorically speaking, quite a few times along the way. Maybe even because of those things.
I did it. And it was worth doing.
Now if only I didn’t have to go back to (sigh) work tomorrow.