Hockey has made my family crazy, and now it is taking us to San Jose, California, which is Spanish for “near San Francisco.” Her Royal Highness’ Big Sky Wildcats team re-paid me for driving to Gillette, Wyoming by qualifying for the national tourney, extending what is the world’s longest sports season. Without a doubt, this is a cool development for HRH. And as a supportive family, we decided we would turn the trip into a funtastic spring break for all.
Soon after, HRH and her brother the Odd Number found out that we intended to drive the 18 or so hours to SJ.
They were incensed at our madness. The same child that acted like she was contemplating turning me into Health and Human Services when I suggested she find a ride for the 3-day, 20 hr-roundtrip to Gillette, Wyoming — fun factor Zero — had apparently imagined we would charter a plane to the Bay Area.
Odd Number, quick with his math skills, wailed, “That’s 36 hours in the car!”
My thoughts drifted to the Oregon Trail pioneers, explaining the journey ahead to their children. Since history misses so many details, maybe more than a few pioneer children got left back East because they carried on. Or maybe they started out with good attitudes and by the time they got to Craters of the Moon. the wagons just left them with their little pile of electronic devices. “Good luck finding batteries,” the dads would say.
Or the Joads in The Grapes of Wrath. What Ruthie and Winfield wouldn’t have given for the spacious backseat of the Honda Pilot! I’ve included a handy map for your convenience so you can track our progress and start your betting pools on which kid gets left behind first and where.