Sunday's Adventure, Part I

[Isn't it odd how blood relatives can have such a different take on events?... you can read Jason's account here.]

Well, we made it! Actually we made it two nights ago... someone just didn't have Internet or get around to posting. Sunday morning at 7 a.m. Jason and I left Iowa, and Sunday night he was safely in Texas and I was safely in Indiana.

This story actually begins Saturday evening, when Jason and Kendra were helping me pack up the trunk and I mentioned - as we stuffed boxes and bags onto the spare tire with wheel, the extra tire, salt bags and shovel - that we'd better not need that stuff the next day.

Sunday we left right on time, only to discover about three minutes down the road that I had forgotten to grab the lunch (after remembering to put in the refrigerated food and the freezer pack just before walking out the door). So we went back and got it. Lucky Jason, with his Iowa-restricted permit, got to drive the first shift into the morning sun. He was a good sport about it and got us to the border in good time.

When I started driving, I thought that Jason had done a pretty good job of making driving with the new snow tires seem easy. Daddy had said it might feel a little loose up around 65 and 70, but I couldn't seem to keep the thing going straight at all; every little correction snowballed into a right-left-right mini rollercoaster. After about fifteen miles I was getting resigned to having the drunk-driving look all the way to Chicago. Jason was starting to look out his window. Then he told me we should probably check on it. "You mean pull over on the highway?" "Yeah." He hit the flashers as I pulled over (what a good brother to not even give me time) and hopped out. It wasn't very comforting half-seeing and half-hearing his reactions and pauses. He came back and told me there were 8 pounds in the right rear tire. That didn't sound too good. I pulled out the cellphone to call Daddy while Jason checked the others. Daddy told me that no, it wasn't too good, not even good enough to get us to the next place. I was just hanging up when Jason informed me that the police had arrived.

Well, the policeman was just there to keep people from hitting us, despite the fact that I had pulled well off the road. Anyway, nothing for it but go dig the spare tire out of the under-trunk compartment. Isn't it funny how the things that shouldn't happen happen?

Jason calmly and capably got the spare on, then the policeman gave us some lefts and rights for an auto service place. The spare was a donut (mini), fifty pounds needing an extra ten, so we went to a gas station first and Jason pumped it up while I got clearer directions from the cashier. Then we went, found the Farm and Fleet, hunted around for mechanics who sent us back to Tire Repair to get a work order, discovered it would be another half-hour, and decided we'd better hit the road.

We kept to the same planned itinerary, 80 East to 55 North to 294 North, and kept the speed up too. Poor Jason was feeling kind of nervous, had been since the very start, just did a good job of not showing it. He did manage to get down a little lunch, even as we approached Chicago. Kind of hate to admit it, but aside from hoping we didn't miss his plane, I was enjoying zipping along in increasingly Chicago-like traffic at Chicago-style speed. Managed to scramble up the change or cash needed for several tolls. There were plenty of signs to get us to the O'Hare exit, plus one or two jets taking off slowly and mightily overhead. "Just think, Jason, pretty soon you'll be on one of those things!" Jason didn't seem quite so enthusaistic about his first plane ride as I was for him.

As we would be arriving about the time Jason's plane was to start boarding, Daddy had suggested in the last phone call that I drop Jason off. So we coasted along and found Terminal 1, arriving at the end of the drop-off area to decide that they didn't have the gates marked and he would just have to find it. First, maybe he should just find his pre-printed boarding pass. We got out and started going through the whole backseat, then Jason stumbled across his papers, grabbed his bags, and headed for the doors. I have to admit I'm impressed with his cool-headedness (even despite stomach turbulence). Let's face it, if that were me plunging into O'Hare for my first plane trip, good chance of a confused and soon-lost little girl.

Apparently he had no trouble. But I didn't know that yet. The rest of the story is coming soon to an Internet-connected computer near you...

[And we'll let you be the judge of who's giving more facts.]