I am home from a series of road trips and day trips. I had thought I might post from these exotic locations, but found myself completely taken up with the events (too many to list and having nothing to do with knitting) that brought me to these cities and I will content myself (and, hopefully, the Reader) with a little sum-up of road trip knitting from my point of view.

I am an enthusiastic road-tripper – provided, of course, that I do not have to do the driving, but can ride shot-gun and knit my way across the state or wherever. So, I shamelessly beg off all driving duty, if possible, build my “knitting nest” and settle with my trusty sidekick: the triple grande non-fat latte (perhaps it is actually my trusty side-triple-kick).

I always bring several projects – there is always the possibility that I might finish the one in hand, of course. More likely, I might break a needle or come to a tricky part that requires I check with a book or I might make some atrocious blunder that requires surgery (not recommended in a minivan at highway speeds). Or I might weary of cables or Fair Isle or slip-stitching or lace or whatever and need to switch to slip-stitching or lace or cables or Fair Isle or whatever. Or the conversation might become juicy or heated or delightfully convoluted and I find I need to change over to straight stockinette. (Try explaining any of this to the non-knitter in the backseat who has been politely asked to sacrifice his leg room to a substantial knitting duffle)

Conversations are one of the Distractions. People assume I must get a lot of knitting done on the road because of all the sitting-in-the-car time, but there are actually a number of Distractions that impede progress (knitting progress, I mean):

1) Scenery. A herd of black cattle, an osprey, mountains, a river, a million-million firs (on a mountain or beside a river), a giant inflated anything, a particularly robust hawk perched on a fence post, a single farmhouse, a city, a sign about Jesus – the world is an amazing place and worth, I’m afraid, setting down one’s knitting to see.

2) Conversation. As stated above – philosophical discussions, petty arguments, gossip, pie-in-the-sky plans. I can’t count and speak in full sentences at the same time.

3) Amusements. Sometimes, it is necessary to prevent the driver’s going into a “freeway coma” by playing 20 Questions or having a Neil Diamond sing-along. On one trip to and from Santa Clara University, we counted turkey vultures (over 200, I believe).

4) Duties. As the non-driver in the front seat, I assume flight attendant duties, such as handing ‘round snacks and water bottles, hunting for tissues, adjusting air temperature, attending to music requests. I am also the map/directions-reader and the “tell me when to turn/exit/stop/loop around and try again because we probably missed the turn/exit/stop” minion.

5) Fear. Heavy downpours, icy roads, impervious fog, narrow highways on steep mountainsides, big trucks, and (my newest terror) creeping along mountain passes in avalanche season. I find it my responsibility to announce imminent disaster and death – and I confess I am a bit squeamish about the possibility of being impaled by my knitting needles before crashing through the windshield.

All things considered, I actually did get a fair amount of knitting done in the car. Still, it is a pleasure to be back in my leather chair with room to spread out (and without bags of yarn on my feet).

PS There is an ugly rumor afloat in my family that I “made” my husband George do a LOT of driving with a broken ankle so I could knit. At the time, we both thought it was simply a bad sprain, of course, but that probably would not have made any real difference since: it was a MUTUAL decision based upon YEARS of marital experience which has proved that the drive is safer and more pleasant if he is behind the wheel — and I am safer and more pleasant if I am behind my knitting needles while he is behind the wheel. AND I did the lioness’s share of hauling luggage, as well as being a delightful and patient companion while he sat in the hotel room elevating and icing his ankle. And if I did, indeed, knit while he was elevating and icing…..well, all to the good.