I've always driven leaving a cushion of air between my head and the head rest. There is some inane compulsion in me insisting this is the alert way to drive. After the night's agony, I decided to eliminate that half inch and just lean on the head rest, wondering if it would do the trick.
It did. I suffered no more neck discomfort for the remainder of our trip.
While I was at it, I decided to try some other tricks I'd concocted, certain if I'd queried truck drivers I'd find they employ these tactics for their long hauls. For instance, in the dark when my eyes would become glued to the road and any glances away from the road would prove dizzying - I decided to glance right and left frequently to prevent the fixation of my eyes in the first place. My eye doctor had also advised that the human eye is adapted for distance viewing and that, when using the computer, one should look to the distance every few minutes. He also said we tend not to blink when staring at a computer screen all day, so we should force ourselves to blink every few seconds. I adapted both of these suggestions for use on the road, and I found that all of the tactics served me well.
With the Red Earth Festival as our final destination, today was to be the most rewarding of adventures for our trip. I have always been proudest of my Cherokee blood, and my children had yet to experience the culture of our Native past or to embrace a pride of their ancestry. Of all my research of possible Native American expeditions, this had seemed the most ideal. It was actually en route, as opposed to another interactive opportunity which would have meant an extra 200 miles in our drive. And it promised to be full of costume and dance, which I was certain would engage my children rather than bore them as a stationary display might. Further, all Nations were to be represented, affording them the opportunity to see how the tribes varied and how they were similar, and to learn of as many cultures as possible in this single stop.
Along the way I planned to stop at Wonderland Park in Amarillo, Texas. I had originally slated it for our return trip, but changed my mind at the last minute because it would break up our day more evenly on the way out to Georgia.
Not long after departing from Grants we approached signs advertising the Tucumcari Dinosaur Museum. It had been our original destination for today, and I pondered sticking to the first plan, but zipped right past the exit. We spent the majority of the day racing along the freeways with the kids watching movies on the portable DVD player I had purchased before leaving. The children were exceedingly well behaved and sedate, and I was grateful I had swallowed the extra expense and bought the DVD player. Occasionally Jedi would nod off to sleep, and Dragon would switch to playing his Nintendo DS, which afforded me the liberty of popping in a CD I had burned of favorite podcasts and listening to "Radio Lab" or "This American Life."
When we reached Amarillo at last I took a chance on the first Italian restaurant we saw at our exit. Fazoli's proved to be a lucky shot as its prices were affordable and the fettuccine alfredo yummy. They even passed out free bread sticks, which surprised me since it seemed to be a fast food restaurant. The bread sticks were especially fortuitous because Dragon found nothing appetizing on the menu and ate only the bread. Once we left Fazoli's I picked up some french fries for my oldest, worried that all he was eating on this trip was potatoes and bread.
We travelled the twenty minute detour to Wonderland Park. The directions were inaccurate and the streets confusing, so I spent an extra ten minutes circling the area, trying to find our destination. We did see a lovely park with waterfalls and determined to stop there if we could not find the amusement park. However, at last we arrived, only to find the park closed for another forty-five minutes. When I had switched the schedule around at the last minute, I had failed to re-evaluate the open hours of the attraction. Given the lush and inviting recreation area at the mouth of park, we opted to stop, eat, rest and play until Wonderland opened. Jedi raced about while Dragon sat and ate and the bugs in turn feasted on us.
Minutes before the park opened a line began to form. I gathered up the kids and jumped in line, still close to the front. I peered through the gates, attempting to assess the benefits of this stop. I was beginning to question whether we could make it to Oklahoma City on time for the Red Earth Festival and if I had understood the pricing correctly. It seemed that the signs inside indicated a need to purchase an entry pass in addition to ride tickets. I had thought from the website that I would be able to purchase $15 in tickets, let the kids ride three or four rides, and be on our way. Now it appeared I would have to spend another $15 or more just to get in, and I was not prepared for the additional expense. It was already 7:00 PM Texas time, and I suggested to my boys that we leave.
The idea, of course, met with great resistance. There we stood in front of an exciting paradise with promises to partake of it. On my side I had the heat, the wait, the exhaustion and the late hours. At last we departed, all disappointed and dispirited.
It was with that mood that we met the darkening skies of the approaching state border. Lightning began to streak not too far away. I felt a heavy, ominous sense of concern. This did not feel like just a storm, but either way I did not wish to drive through a storm in unfamiliar, deserted territory at night with my two children. I kept my thoughts to myself, but Dragon worried the same. "Mama, are there tornadoes out here?" He asked.
"No, baby," I reassured him, and myself. "Those are further east. This is just a lightning storm. Doesn't it look cool?"
I looked to the edge of the menacing clouds. Any minute I should be breaking through their hold, but the further I travelled, the further they extended. They followed the same route as us, and I would not escape.
At long last we did break through the clouds and entered Oklahoma. We stopped at the rest center to attend our needs, which proved too much for Jedi. He had been asleep and was miserable at being awoken. I, on the other hand, was enthralled with the bathrooms. When I had been researching attractions for our trip, Oklahoma's web site had proved superior for ease of planning, allowing visitors to search along specific routes for places to stop. Now their bathrooms shone equally bright, with personal stalls, tiles of warm tones, and impeccably clean house keeping. I was so impressed with the bathroom I had to take pictures, much to the distress of my youngest.
Determined to document our trip with pictures of as many locations as possible, I dragged the kids outside to snap some shots in front of the Oklahoma welcome sign. This was too much for Jedi, so I carried him while he protested the unnecessary activity. Try as I did, he would not be persuaded to pose for the camera, so I took my pictures of just Dragon. Dragon was immensely amused by his brother's distress and smiled willingly for the camera.
At long last we made it to Oklahoma City. Not only had our detour in Amarillo delayed our arrival too late to make the festival, but I had also neglected to account for the time difference. When I had planned it out, I had thought that yes, it would be later at each stop than it was from where I left, but that I would get up at 6:00 AM of the time zone of which we were in. I hadn't counted on arriving at the previous night's hotel later than 9:00 PM and poor sleep to encumber my departure. So, here we were, in Oklahoma City - a rare occasion - at the time of the Red Earth Festival - an even rarer occasion, unlikely to happen again - and I had missed it. I was despondent, knowing that we had to leave too early in the morning to make any worthwhile activities Saturday morning.
Finally we reached our hotel, where we waited, with my children wretched and begging for a bed. A pair of men in front of us hounded the front desk clerk for fifteen minutes to find them a hotel with vacancy. I felt bad for them, but relieved that I had planned our route and booked reservations. I could not imagine trying to find a hotel at the last minute during a nation wide event like the Red Earth Festival. When the clerk finally sent the men on their way, processed our reservation and sent us to our room, we dropped in to bed, and in to oblivion.
