Day One on Our Adventure

October 2, 2012 — Day One of the New Adventure

Our first day on the road, and we were already off to a classic start.

We picked up the trailer, and Van did exactly what he was told: start the reefer before leaving the yard. Except the moment he hit the switch, oil poured out like the trailer was bleeding out in the parking lot.

The shop guy came running. “Oh yeah,” he said, “we left the cap off the oil.” He grinned and offered to wash it off like that made everything fine.

Then he looked at Van and said, “Man, I wish I could grow hair like you.”

Van said, “You can.”

The kid shook his head. “Nooo, I can’t,” and pulled off his hat to show his shiny bald head.

Van pulled off his own hat. The kid’s eyes lit up. “Can I borrow that?”

Next thing we knew, he disappeared into the shop wearing Van’s hair hat. We could hear the laughter from inside. Van’s hair was having its own adventure.

After the shop kid ran off wearing Van’s hair hat like he’d just won the lottery, we figured that was the end of the day’s entertainment.

We were wrong.

In Fort Garland, we stopped at Del’s Diner. The waitress came straight over with menus, but she wasn’t looking at the menus. She was staring at Van.

“I have to know,” she said, leaning in. “Is that your hat?”

“Yes,” Van said. “It’s actually a visor.”

She shook her head. “No… is that your hair? The other girl and I disagree. I say it’s a hat. She says it’s your hair.”

Van didn’t say a word. He just reached up, grabbed the brim, and lifted the whole thing off.

Her eyes got huge. Then she burst out laughing.

“I knew it!” she said. “I bet you get a lot of attention with that hat.”

Van put it back on and said, perfectly calm, “I bet you’re right.”

And just like that, Van’s hair hat had fans in two states.

I set the Garmin to “Westbound and Down,” because that’s exactly what we were — loaded up and trucking with Christmas lights, wrapping paper, and toys. We didn’t know where we were going, but we were definitely going to have fun getting there.

By 9:30, I had reached my fun limit. I couldn’t find my pajamas, so I crawled into Van’s and climbed into the bunk.

You know those old vibrating motel beds you put a quarter in? Well, I had my own free version. I have no idea why anyone would want a vibrating bed. My face was itching from bouncing on the sheet. I stole Van’s feather pillow — it didn’t bounce nearly as bad.

And honestly? Compared to our first truck, this sleeper was luxury.

That old 1979 Mack with the coffin sleeper… Lord help me. They took out the back window, stuck a boot between the cab and the sleeper, and you had to crawl through and drop onto the bed like you were entering a crypt.

Van and his dad had stuffed half‑inflated river innertubes under the sleeper to keep it from bouncing so hard you’d physically leave the bed on every bump.

It still bounced me so much I was sore the next day.

So compared to THAT? This new sleeper floated like a butterfly.