Packing for the trip or Hannibal crossing the Alps - Whatever.

*** continued from previous post  ***

As for packing I wanted to start with a clean slate. I took all of the junk - wait . . . I didn't say junk. I meant to say 'necessities' - out of the saddlebags, out of the trunk, out of the various nooks and crannies and arranged them on the ground next to the bike. When I was done, I stepped back and looked at the array.

Astonishing. It appeared that the bike had suddenly become ill, and regurgitated an eclectic collection of items that had been clogging its gullet. Think of those cartoon images of the inside of a whale after they've swallowed the hapless hero. Much like that minus the rowboat. The sheer volume and range of crap amazed me. I rarely pay attention to what your Mom has in the bags, and most of the time I don't really care. That's her domain. Usually. But we were going to be gone for seven days, it was time to pare back on the 'essentials'. The time had come to show your Mother how a man would pack. (She's not looking over my shoulder, is she? Good.).

So here is a brief run-down of what I found:

A pair of binoculars, a huge bag of rags and various cleaning products, a waffle maker, a first Aid Kit, 7 individual gloves, 2 sweaters, 2 sets balaclava and silkies, a crushed pop can, and 3 maps all full of mildew and in various states of disintegration. 1 gallon bag of over the counter meds, a thermos of congealed something, a panini press/hair dryer (there it is!), 2 broken flashlights, various magazines from 2001, a feather duster, an inflatable pillow, 1 bag with two rolls of flattened toilet paper, a set of helmet-to-helmet intercom systems that we had used once, and 4 pair of sunglasses - two with missing lens. Also, a deck of cards that had 'drawn moister', a cribbage board, a notebook, 35 ink pens - only 2 with caps, a nerf football (although that might have been on the ground before I unpacked), a calculator, a stapler sans staples, a bag of 'feminine products', 2 hair brushes, 2 umbrellas, 12,000 paper napkins stolen from every fast-food joint we had ever visited, a house plant, durable power of attorney, road flares, a hammer, and a flute.

Then there was the bags of food. Bags and bags and bags of nuts and cheeses and jerky and cookies and candy and power-bars and . . . and God knows what else. We could have opened up a convenience mart at any rest stop we visited.

I stood back to examine the cargo. I was mightily impressed. I mean honestly, how could you not be? I had not the slightest clue your mother even played the Flute.

I called to your Mom who was inside the house adding to her 'absolute necessities'. "Hey babe, wanna come out here for a minute?"

*** the journey continues tomorrow