Whereas Margo never really likes to mix
business with pleasure, this past month such a mix was unavoidable. Business
required us to participate in a HPE Nonstop community gathering in Dallas
(Hurst), Texas. Pleasure, if it is fair to call it that, required us to return
to Longmont, Colorado. The serious side of selling our condo to our daughter Anna
and our son-in-law Erich was to begin and we had a desire to get this moving so
we could make plans for the rest of the year.
We readily recall having stepped off a Princess cruise ship during the early months of 2026 and, here it is, almost half-way through the year, and another journey beckoned. It’s safe to say that in our honest opinion the years seem to be passing by rather quickly. In so doing it seems we are just wrapping up a future plan when the future arrives. We do like to travel, as this blog ceaselessly reminds us all, but it’s getting a bit old of late, not so much the travel but as our peers will attest, it’s the getting there and the packing and unpacking that’s getting really old. Destination and cruise vacations seem to provide the laid-back downtime we so look forward to enjoying these days. Oh well … it's going to be one more BizCation we would be facing, yet again!
The journey this time wasn’t without
some festivities as we arrived in Dallas for Cinco de Mayo – a festive
celebration out of Mexico that almost all of the US celebrates today. Given, too,
that this was an opportunity to enjoy the occasion with good friends and former
colleagues, Carla and Kurt Hughes, we couldn’t resist. Turning up at one of
Carla’s favorite restaurants meant meeting the staff who, not unexpectedly, knew
Carla well and proved entertaining while we dined. We were seated in clear site
of the kitchen and the teamwork was worthy of any high-level sporting event.
And yes, they were professionals, of course.
Leaving the restaurant, walking
alongside Kurt as we headed for our respective vehicles, Carla snapped this
photo (below). As unfortunate as it was, unprepared to be photographed, it was a
reminder that not only were we halfway through the year but that we had lived
through many, many years. Two older guys (well, clearly one older than the
other), chatting amongst themselves, oblivious of the image that they convey,
equally obvious of their downturned appearance (beyond casual for one), and yet
far removed from the worries of the day. And for where we were headed, this was
a level of bliss that next day would be absent. Yet, not to be overlooked, our
path to a simplified life seemed to beckon because of an image like this – a
foretaste of what in all likelihood, represents the life-chapter we are about
to enter.
When this event was announced, we knew
we would be spending time with friends from the industry. This was a given and
we have a long-standing friendship with the Dallas event organizer, Bill
Honaker. For the dinner at the conclusion of the event, Bill asked us to join a
small group for a private dinner at one of his favorite Mexican restaurants.
It’s Dallas after all and it meant sampling yet one more popular Texas -
Mexican (TexMex) – around these parts, such a cuisine seemed inescapable.
The journey back to Colorado followed
the usual pattern, following a mix of A and B roads that wound their way north
west through Amarillo, TX and on up to Limon, CO where we finally joined the
interstate that takes us directly west into the greater Denver area. When
passing through Amarillo we always find time to stop at a popular western style
steakhouse where a 52 ounces steak is yours, no charge, if you can eat it all
in an hour. Or, so the clock suggested. There was a wall of winners showcased
upon entry but seriously? 52 ounces? Giving in to discretion, I elected to pass
on this challenge …
The return to Florida was via Interstate highways, for the most part. Out of Denver, on to Kansas City, MO then via St Louis, MO down to the greater Nashville sprawl, TN. We always stop by Independence, MO and then again, in Brentwood, TN. We have followed this route so many times that the driving routines and driver swaps have become routine. The stretch between Denver and Kansas City is the easy part – wide open prairies with few vehicles on the road. Pass Kansas City however, it all goes south, very quickly. And not just in a southerly direction as it turns out.
Leaving Kansas City there’s almost no unaffected Interstate all the way to Brentwood. It’s a nightmare of single lane traffic where bridges and overpasses are in some state of teardown or reconstruction. Road surfaces almost undrivable and yes, every imaginative speed sign posted, one after the other with what seemed that nobody paid any attention to what was displayed. As one writer noted, it’s as if it was the last hour of qualification for the Talladega Speedway. Having been ticketed once while driving through a work zone (with no workers present,) we aired on the side of caution, oftentimes becoming little more than a moving chicane.
The quality of dining certainly moved
up a couple of notches while we traversed this part of the country. We have a
habit of stopping by the Hereford House, a local steakhouse in Independence,
MO. It serves up prime cuts of steak and in honor of the location, Margo always
opts for a Kansas City Strip. The kitchen is an attraction in and of itself and
we always find a way to be seated with a view. The stern-looking chef turned
out to be a sweetheart when approached and watching the organized chaos behind
her was all the entertainment we needed that night.
The Kansas City area spans both sides
of the Missouri river with a part of the city in Kansas leaving the majority of
the city in Missouri. The Interstate looks like a poorly constructed origami
weave and if you don’t know, or don’t have a GPS map app, you can get twisted
around so much that you may not make it out. The alternate bypass of the Interstate
cuts beneath the city and the intersections appear suddenly and always on the
lane you don’t happen to be in – we have witnessed so many panic changes it
surprises us still that there aren’t major pile-ups! We were behaving less like
a moving chicane than a radical, in and out, divergent “bus stop.”
Closer to home (in Florida), stopping
for the night in Brentwood meant we were ablet to dine at Del Frisco’s Grill.
Part of the Landry chain of restaurants that includes Mortons and yes, Mastros,
it never fails to deliver a traditional and yet slightly upmarket, steakhouse
experience. We assess the quality of steakhouses we encounter by the quality of
their shrimp cocktail - at least I do - and it never ceases to amaze us that when this simple
dish appears, the rest of the dinner is more than up to scratch. Being the last
meal “on the road” before arriving home, it has sentimental value as well as we
tend to finally relax.
We had parked the Land Rover Defender
in the garage of the Longmont condo, hooked up to a trickle charger feed. In
its place, we elected to drive the little Jaguar F Type P575 SE AWD. It was a
blast but the opportunities to fully enjoy all of its capabilities didn’t
really happen because of all the roadworks. When an opportunity arose to “open
it up,” so as to speak, it delivered! After four years of ownership, even with
this journey, we have still to reach 10,000 miles. By way of comparison, our
Defender, not quite one year old, has seen 28,000 miles as it shows up on the
odometer.
In the days before departure, I took
the Jaguar to the local coffee shop. Parked outside and went in and ordered my
usual Starbucks latte. As a Sydney boy brought up on fine coffee, it’s always a
big concession on my part to drink such a coffee but it’s what we have, so
accommodation is a must. Seeing the Jaguar parked outside, the barrister
scribbled on my cup as it was handed to me, “have fun!” And indeed, each and
every time we drive the Jaguar anywhere at all, we have fun.
Little did we know that we would pay the price for the days spent on the highways. What proved to be not as much fun was when getting home and finding a tire destroyed, somewhere out on those, under-construction, torn-to-bits, highways. We didn’t notice this tire at first but it was the local car wash attendant (in Panama City Beach, FL) who drew it to our attention. Margo and I recall a really big bang at one point where the suspension hit the bump stop, but we watched the tire pressure monitoring system and there was no air loss. Oh well, our first injured “paw” in two years and a replacement tire was secured and mounted and all is forgotten now. That is, until the credit card statement arrives.
The objective of this trip in the
Jaguar was to relocate the Jaguar to Florida where it will be insured and
tagged along with the Corvette and Defender. Some rework of the storage space
will be required to have all three vehicles garaged but in so doing, this will
relegate our Golf Cart to the driveway. Always, the question arises: Do we
really need the golf cart now that the construction is finished and we no
longer need to trek through the construction zone each afternoon to check on
the progress. Maybe not – while it’s still something we call a fun ride, we use
it to check the mail and from time to time, stop by the Chill and Grill restaurant
of our Margaritaville development.
Coming home held one surprise. During
our two-week absence, work took off in earnest as new home constructions began
along the last section of our cross-street that will, in time, see no more dirt
coming into our backyard. Can’t wait to see it finished and by all accounts,
our neighbor will be all done and yes, dusted, by the end of the year. Just
like that, being the first house to be finished (and the second to be closed,
by less than 24 hours), the changing landscape will reveal a finished product.
And just like that we will begin 2027! Planning will get so easy! As we get a
more peaceful scenery to accompany our evening cocktail.
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