Several years ago, I unplugged from social media during a trip to Colorado and wrote a 13-part series on my blog. As I prepare to leave for a trip up the California coast, I’m trying to decide if I want to report from the road on social media or unplug and write longer blog posts to be published as a series upon my return.
In case you’re curious but don’t want to commit to the entire oeuvre, here’s a sentence or two from each post:
Part 1: The Colorado Experiment – In order to prevent a pall from forming over our vacation as only an unintentionally euthanized pet can do, it was decided that I would take the Xanax and Dexter would monitor the drink cart.
Part 2: The Comfort of Crap – Thus was I forced to endure the withering stares of the holier-than-thou light-packer set as I moved two sweatshirts and a toiletry kit the size of a small raft into Mr. Weenie’s bag.
Part 3: Weenie in Her Full, Upright and Locked Position – What child picked its nose and wiped it on my arm rest? Who is that coughing up a lung in the exit row? How many heads have rested on this miniature dust mite farm some call a pillow?
Part 4: And They’re Off – Take note, all you pet-loving travelers: Do not attempt to toss a dog dish full of water out the window of a car going 65 miles per hour.
Part 5: Down in The Valley – Having paid for the experience, we decided to take full advantage of all the park had to offer, which as it turned out, included a terror ride to the bottom of the gorge in a small metal cage.
Part 6: Lost in Condo City – While these asshole harbingers of doom mocked us from above—all the while hoping my small, leashed, rodent-like companion would make a break for it—I spotted a figure walking toward us.
Part 7: Man Does Not Live by Cookies Alone – Other food-related hiccups during our vacation included an in-flight salsa explosion, the unfortunate altitude-meets-yogurt episode, a coffee-on-Nikon/poodle moment, and the great Rocky Mountain scrambled egg incident.
Part 8: Mountain Mama – We climbed up ridges to gorgeous waterfalls, while resident fecal expert, Bill Haddad, kept us apprised of the bowel habits of Colorado’s diverse woodland creatures.
Part 9: Why Poodles and Spas Don’t Mix – There were very few things we missed along the way due to poodle intolerance—we even managed to slip him into a few restaurants here and there—but sneaking him into a spa seemed a bit optimistic.
Part 10: On the Road Again – Have you ever tried outrunning the rotation of the earth? Not as easy as Superman made it appear, but sort of fun in a Lucy and Ethel kind of way.
Part 11: Vail – Coming back to Vail after so long was like going to someone else’s high school reunion; I didn’t know anyone and spent a lot of time trying to find a restroom.
Part 12: Rocky Mountain Hell – We’ve given thought to climbing onto the roof to try and get service, but who would take care of Dexter if we died in a tragic internet accident?
Epilogue – As I sprawl out on the kitchen floor, waiting for the house to cool down, it occurs to me that other than my husband and a 12-year-old boy panning for gold, I haven’t spoken to another human being in over two weeks.
Now to decide what to do during my trip (other than enjoy it). Maybe I don’t need to report every detail, but it makes traveling more fun. And the bonus is afterward I’ll have a nice memory journal to look back on. What would you do?*
*Let’s pretend “both” is not an option.