Believe it or not, Kailey did acquiesce to a road trip to New York City with the promise of seeing the parade.
Or maybe she just really wanted to see that parade.
Either way, we didn’t get going on the 11-hour drive until late in the afternoon.
Around 7 or 8 hours in, I started getting really tired… was it only 1am? 2am?
The Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania truly never do end. On and on we drove, somewhere between consciousness and a dream.
Finally, I could drive no longer.
Kailey was completely exhausted too, from her paranoia that I was going to drive us into a ditch at any moment.
So, like it or not, we were done driving for the night.
I pulled into a truck stop and proceeded to set up Hotel Prius.
I wish I could describe the sheer misery of the next few hours before I finally gave up, repacked, and drove on even more tired than when I first stopped.
Words simply fail me.
I’ve slept on a 45-degree slope in a sandstorm, grinding my teeth down to nubs on the sand, bunched up at the bottom of the wind-whipped tent where I slid, praying for daylight.
I’ve shivered uncontrollably through the night on top of a mountain, bundled up in every scrap of clothing inside an emergency blanket lying in a puddle in the freezing rain, praying for daylight.
I’ve listened to my cousin Robert saw logs all night long while I lay awake in the tent, sure that any moment the bear would come back for the freeze-dried lasagna on my breath, once again praying for daylight.
I felt like life had prepared me for anything Hotel Prius could possibly hand out.
I was so wrong.
Worst night ever.