Bound For Belize - Day 1

Things did not start out as we expected. It's one thing to pack. It's another to Pack a Vehicle. Oh my, pack and repack, and leave out the three, three-gallon water bottles that were going to last us through Mexico. The whole matter of packing and strapping down the cartop is really a special skill I did not prepare for. Was there a class I could have taken? After possibly five stops and attempts to squelch the loud thwaping, I learned that quiet seems quieter than usual after noise stops.

We left the house around noon and stopped for lunch with Mom (and for me to organize Maps and Important Documents). At that time, my mom lobbied for Beltashazzar the cat to stay with her instead of traveling to his namesake of Belize (he has long been called "Bellie Belize" even before I knew where Belize was). She, my mom, had a sudden and intolerable invasion of mice at the house, out in the country, and traps were not sufficing. To my own surprise, I agreed. Bellie stayed with her to continue to carry out his real calling. One of the stresses of driving was going to be the number of times we would be in and out of the car. The dogs were one thing, and no small task to catch if escaped, but Bellie is a little bolt of lightening when he decides to be. He is not catchable. He believes himself to be a wildcat.

So, we left the cat. Last I heard Bellie was in the garage, too scared to go into the house. Or too busy catching dinner. Now two pets, not three, are going Belizeward.

We drove through the beautiful rolling hills of western Wisconsin and across the "mighty Mississippi" river, as my dad would say. Then across flat plains of Minnesota, passing the town of Austin, the worldwide headquarters of Spam, the unidentifiable meat product in a can (not to be confused with the electronic junk mail that stole the name.) You know you're near because of the big billboard "Meat historians, Rejoice! Spam Museum, Austin, Minn." it says. It's in huge print so you have multiple opportunities to read it as you approach. Is it a typo? "Meet historians," the editor asks. If not, what are "meat historians"? Oh, Spam. Those crazy Spam people. What could possibly be in a Spam museum? It's effective marketing - evidenced by the paragraph I just spent telling you about it.

So we stopped further down the road in Albert Lea for the night. Not much of a dent in our 3000 mile trip, but enough for what the day was. I went for a swim in the pool and came back to find all three of the others asleep. Guthrie and Eli curled up on the bed with my dad! As I write, all three are happily snoring on that side of the room. Guthrie takes the prize for volume. :-)

Goodnight my friends! Tomorrow we conquer the highways of Iowa and beyond.

Blessings!
Susan(a)