My graduating-this-May college senior is all excited about a cross-country trip he’s taking, which is departing two days after his graduation. Always the worrier, I was somewhat concerned, but that boy is well-versed in the art of easing my fears.
The three guys going on the trip are buddies from high school. After spending four years in very different parts of the country (East Coast: William and Mary, West Coast: USC, Midwest: Notre Dame) it’ll be a good chance for them to reconnect. At least in high school, they were all decent kids. (Then again, what does a mother know?)
With three of them, they’ll be able to really share the driving duties. (The purpose of the trip is for Mr. USC to get his car from Virginia to Los Angeles. Once there, the other two will fly back to the DC area.)
It’ll be a chance to do a bit of sight-seeing. The pace is somewhat frenetic, as they’ll be combining a northern route (the Badlands of South Dakota) and southern route (Arizona and Colorado.) But they’ll at least be able to wave at some hot spots as they drive by.
It turns out the guy spearheading the adventure is a bit OCD about trip planning. I’ve seen the schedule and he breaks each day down into three time segments: morning, midday and afternoon. He specifies all sight-seeing stops, travel routes, and sleeping arrangements. In most cases, he’s mapped out friends and relatives to stay with. To estimate gas expenditures, he didn’t do a simple distance * gas mileage * current average cost of gasoline calculation. He looked at predicted cost of gas in May in the areas they will be driving through. (While I appreciate the seriousness with which he is approaching the planning, I’m a bit worried he may go off the deep end if they take a wrong turn and fall behind on the schedule by a few hours.)
All things considered, I was actually getting excited about the trip.
But then my son told me what kind of car they’ll be driving. A Toyota Prius. Stuck accelerators. Non-functioning brakes. Now I’m worrying again.