Pat Bean's blog

I left Tucson – for the first time — right around 7 a.m. last Wednesday. It felt joyous to be on the road after too many months of covid-enforced hibernation. The morning was cool and breezy and the roadway was lined with tall-stemmed blooming agaves. I drank in every sight with delight.

I made it to the Texas Canyon Rest Stop before I realized that while I had remembered to pack my camera, binoculars, spare glasses, and all the other important accoutrements needed for my trip to Texas, I had forgotten my purse.

I said the S-word out loud, three times with vigor, and then became thankful I still had enough gas to make it back home.

A U-Turn, and 144 miles later, I left Tucson – for the second time — around 10 a.m. this time, and driving just a little faster to make up for lost time, but still not thinking yet about how often in my life mishaps came in threes.

I wouldn’t start thinking about that until I ran into another stumbling block just as I was about to drive through El Paso. A blinding dust storm and I hit the Texas border city at the same time. The dust interfered with my vision, while the wind tried to yank the wheel of the car from my hands, and as I gripped the wheel tightly, I watched large semis weaving from side to side. Traffic slowed to a crawl.

On past drives through El Paso, I usually cleared the city limits in half an hour. This day it took me over an hour, and I still had 120 miles to go to get to Van Horn where I had motel reservations for my canine companion Scamp and I.

Once past El Paso, the wind waned, traffic lightened, and then the third mishap struck. Out of nowhere, or so it seemed, it started raining, which then increased in intensity until I couldn’t see the road ahead of me. I finally managed to pull off to the side of the road, as thankfully the cars ahead and behind me were able to do the same.  

This mishap had been a bit scary, but since it was the third one of the day, I hoped it would be the last.

And it was. And I arrived at the end of my day’s journey before dark, an important detail to an old broad on the road whose night vision went on strike a few years ago. I was exhausted, but actually pleased with myself for surviving the day – and still eager to get back on the road for the rest of my trip.

You never know what’s going to happen when you’re on the road – and that’s one of the things I like best about traveling.

Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion, Scamp. She is a wondering-wanderer, avid reader, enthusiastic birder, Lonely Planet Community Pathfinder, Story Circle Network board member, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), and is always searching for life’s silver lining.