At least 20 million Americans suffer from a fear of flying, according to an October ABC News report. I had a membership in that group for most of my life.
During my first-ever flight, I had a date with an airsick bag as we made a windy landing in Chicago. Practice makes perfect, as they say, and I’ve had a handful of airsick-free flights since my visit to the Windy City.
Flying can take me somewhere far away in short order, sure, but if it’s at all possible, I’m going to drive.
When we announced our plans to take my car to Florida and back for a vacation, most people thought we had lost our minds during this long, cold winter.
Reactions sounded something like this: “You’re driving to Florida and back? You’re going to hate each other by the end of the trip.”
I knew we would be fine in that respect. If my fiancee and I couldn’t take a road trip together, we wouldn’t be getting married.
We weren’t without concerns, however.
My 2004 Chevrolet Impala – or the Silver Bullet, as we call it – is a member of the 110,000-mile club. We hoped for an issue-free drive.
As we traveled farther south, we knew our out-of-state plates would make us popular among local police officers. I had my eyes glued to the speedometer, making sure I didn’t speed, particularly as we visited our friends in Summersville, W.Va.
And, of course, there’s always the possibility of missing an exit, getting lost and having a meltdown.
Thankfully, our first-ever visit to the Sunshine State didn’t end in disaster. We’re still getting married, my car still runs and our GPS works just fine.
Unfortunately, the sunshine didn’t follow us home. We’re really sorry about that.