Rachael came over for a little while on Saturday to help me get the 1 ton loaded up for the trip. With her due date landing right in the middle of Drag Week 2018, she had finally gave up on going a couple of weeks earlier, but I could tell it didn't make her happy. She had announced to the Drag Weekers on their Facebook page that she couldn't make it, with a picture of her bare, eight months along belly. A few would comment to me later that she was very bold to do so, but good or bad, fat or skinny, Rachael has always been comfortable in her own skin. To see your child be that confident and at ease is a blessing as a parent, despite the occasional embarrassment!
"Are you going to stick around and join Skip's family for the NFL Fantasy Draft tomorrow?" She asked me as she sorted through my boxes of spare parts, tools, and support equipment.
"No...I think I'm going to leave out tonight", I explained, "I'd like to get a jump on some of the holiday traffic".
"There will be plenty of food and drinks", she continued, "You can come over early and we'll get your laptop all setup so you're ready for the draft!"
Last year had been my first foray into fantasy football, in a league that my son-in-law's family have been doing for years, on that occasion I begged out of doing it on location with them because I felt more comfortable sitting in front of my home PC, than trying to use the laptop I rarely play with. This year, I really just wanted to get started on my trip.
"To be honest", I grabbed my gut with both hands and gave it a shake, "more food and drinks before this trip are probably the last thing I need!"
"You are pushing some extra around for sure old man", she laughed. "You think you're really going to be able to handle all Drag Week is going to throw at you without me there to help this year?"
"No problem", I smiled, "I've been racing these old Mopars longer than you've been breathing!"
"You've reached the point where you're as prone to break down as these old Mopars too", she pointed out as her face got serious, and her tone changed, "so promise me you aren't going to push yourself too hard and too long when I'm not there to rescue you from your own stubbornness!"
I was immediately reminded of the trepidation I feel when my parents run off on some grand adventure with zero regards for the physical limitations their age places on them.
"I promise...I have a plan...I'm not going to push myself!"
"OK", she smiled at me again, "I trust you about as far as Flagstaff...but I tried!"

That statement brought a smile to my face as I pulled up to the pumps at the Little America Sinclair station in Flagstaff at 1:15 AM Sunday morning. I had replaced the troublesome FSS on the 12 valve and the old '93 had pulled the mountain with nary a whimper, so all I needed was a tall cup of coffee to pursue the New Mexico border across I-40 East.