Road trip to Golden with Me and Miss Siri

A road trip for our family means we’re having too much fun, we’ll try new restaurants, no telling where we will end up, cramming everything possible into a weekend, and showing up in the nick of time. It’s all about timing and hitting the mark and all the other marks in between.

When our girls’ basketball team won regionals, our family said, “We’ve got to go to State. Our girls have a shot at the State Championship, they’re that good. But, while we’re there, we’ll run up to Ft. Collins, check on a few things, use a $15 coupon for an oil change, do the Kohl’s thing and maybe even get a pedicure and visit Cabellas.”

Our son-in-law had made plans with a friend to go to the NASCAR race in Phoenix, so it would be just the three of us. He was going to Arizona. Sweet Al, Allison and I would be going to Golden.

We jumped into the car. Our daughter would be the designated driver. I’d navigate and My Sweet Al would monitor the bathroom breaks. Before we left town, we ran by the library, picked up a couple of books-on-tape, stopped by the SUN, picked up the newspaper, and grabbed Subway for the road.

We’d be “in like FLYNN.” Not quite. Allison forgot Garmin and Al forgot his hunting magazines. Al picked up some Glamour Magazine in the free bin at the library. We’d have to rely on Siri.

Allison handed me the phone. You’re going to have to talk to Siri and let her talk you through Denver to Golden, up to Ft. Collins and back. Just say, “Hey, Siri, I need directions to…, she’ll answer you.”

“Okay, but I’ll need a quick lesson about following the map on your I-Phone.” I learned everything but how to turn off Siri. Miss Siri wouldn’t stop talking.  In the middle of traffic, Allison said, “Just push that button, she’ll stop talking.” But she didn’t.

Our daughter was concerned that Al and I weren’t drinking enough water. I told her quit reminding your Dad to drink water, we have to look for another bathroom and it’s throwing off Siri. She’s serious and staying her course. We’d see a McDonalds or another gas station and we’d fly off the freeway for another break.

We took Pagosa’s mud with us. Even after a quick run through the local car wash the wheels were packed with mud and now off balance; the car was shimmying.

 “Stop the car, I see a do-it-yourself carwash. This car is shaking me to pieces.” Allison pulled off the road.

Back on the road, we still hadn’t gotten all the mud out of the wheels, another carwash ten miles down the road, dropping off some more mud. We picked a bay behind some young clean freak with a neurotic obsession about his truck. No turning back, we were jammed in between a Ford Ranger Pickup and a red Excursion. We waited for Mr. Clean to run his debit card through the slot and stop his obsession. Our first hope was he would run out of quarters, no such luck! He had the energy to scrub and wrestle that high-powered wand for at least 30 minutes.

Our daughter said, “The scheduled 5:30 ballgame will give us plenty of time to make it to Ft. Collins and back to Golden. There’s so much traffic, let’s take the road that parallels the freeway.”

 I wasn’t sure if Siri got the change of plans. She insisted that we stay on I-25 and all she could think about was that we needed to be on I-25. We were all running on adrenaline, even Siri. I couldn’t believe we came this far to see the girls and we almost missed the game. Allison said no problem, we have plenty of time, I can squeeze in another ‘I need to stop here,” thing. And, Al needed one more bathroom break.

We made it barely in time to find a parking space four blocks away and huffed up the hill to the sports center. We spotted seats down in front, directly behind the girls from Sterling and their tall, tall coach. We listened to their coach tell them how they could beat the Pagosa girls. I was still stoked from traffic and Siri’s incessant talking. I wanted to jump out on the court and ring someone's neck. The energy level was frantic!

The game was fast, furious and nail biting. Our girls fought for the win and title. Our hearts were pumping blood as our girls won the coveted State Championship Title.

After the game we had worked up our hunger and chose Olive Garden before hitting the bed. It was late, so the house salad with breadsticks sounded perfect. Our waitress’s timing was off. We wanted just the salad. She wanted to follow her mode of operation and move us onto the main course. She took our salad plates before we were finished. We said we weren’t through. She took the big salad bowl anyway. She couldn’t understand we just wanted something light. I said, “It’s all about timing, she couldn’t get her stride or maybe it was our timing that was off”.

The next morning, we ran for the 30% off sales at Kohl’s and had our Kohl’s cash in our hand. We stopped at Qdoba Mexican Grill. We had just missed the bus full of Champions on their way home. The servers’ were on a fast track and I said to our daughter, “I don’t know if I should get the #1 Craft or the #2 Craft and I don’t know how to craft it. Please order for us. We’re holding the servers up and I can’t think that fast.”

We hit Wolf Creek Pass. I felt like singing C.W. Mccall’s song. “Me an’ Siri, haulin’. We woke up the Glam Mag, bathroom monitor in the back seat coming across the Great Divide.  He was still looking for Cabela’s and another bathroom break. 

Our daughter downed her water grabbed up her lunch and said if we hurry we can catch the bus at Overlook Pass. The sheriff is in the parade and we want to be in that parade too! She mashed her foot on the throttle shot through the tunnel at a hundred-and-ten, truckin’ on down the other side.

I said, “Miss Siri, this hill will spill us. We better slow down or you’re gonna kill us. Just one mistake and we’ll be meeting the parade at the Pearly Gates and miss the bus as we go over Look Out Pass.

Final Brushstroke! We’ve learned about timing. For the young, it’s fast and furious and they don’t want to miss a thing. For the old, it’s slow down, digest, where’s the next bathroom, and can’t we savor this one moment? Me and Miss Siri have become the best of friends. She’ll be going with us on the next road trip. She’s learned how to quit talking and how we operate and I’ve learned how to operate her. It’s been a Golden Trip.