Road trips. Some people like them. Others hate them. I don’t really feel one way or the other about them. They are a necessary evil. Some are good and some are bad. I’ve had some fairly good road trips and others that were just disasters.

There is one road trip that stands out amongst the crowd, however. One of the thousands of road trips I’ve made that is just so horribly epic that its story must be shared.

It was 1995. My (then) stepdad was a truck driver. He was a cross-country truck driver. He was in Bentonville, Arkansas when he decided he didn’t want to work for whatever company he was employed by at the time. So he quit. Right then. He didn’t own his own truck so he was stuck there. He called my mother and enlisted us to come and pick him up.

Yay…