Route 66

Duct tape. If it worked for MacGyver, it should work for me. Right? Any awkward moment, broken bone, or bear I encounter, can easily be remedied by the King of all tapes. At least that is what I was thinking when I tossed the roll of grey magic onto the camping equipment accumulating on my living room floor.

In a few short days, I will be launching my trusty (and I say that with great hope) 2002 Honda Civic out onto The Mother Road for a ten-day trek to California and back. The easily identifiable attractions include a celebration in Fresno, California, my beloved Yosemite National Park, a hike into the Grand Canyon, and maybe a sand dune sled at White Sands National Monument. All of which will include me, myself and I.

My mother would tell you that this aspect of the trip is her least favorite. She seems to think that solo travel, especially for a female, is not a wise decision. And, according to her, that is just a drop in the bucket compared to possible dangers on a “wilderness” excursion…not to mention two or three of them. However, what my mother fails to understand is that this trip, above all others, is one in which the company is abundant (and I'm not talking about multiple personalities here...although I do tend to talk to myself a lot).

Seven strangers, in three different cities, with four different couches have agreed to be a part of my adventure by letting me stay in their homes as I travel back and forth across six western states. This doesn’t even include all of the people I will meet during my National Park experiences, or the festivities in Fresno. So even though I have registered with Twitter (RMarq) to keep my loved ones posted during my solo experience, I can honestly say that my concerns with safety are almost non-existent. These people, the ones I have yet to meet, are the true attractions of this road trip down good ‘ole Route 66. As the story goes, this time around, the journey is the destination.