Cheap pool rafts, bought on sale for $2.43.  Let me tell you how we got to this point…

This girls trip to see the solar eclipse was supposed to be “we’ll wake long before dawn, drive out to a prime spot on the NASA chart showing best viewing sites, then drive back (“even if it takes all night”).

We kept hearing how this is supposed to be the “single largest migration of humans in history” and started worrying  that driving there might be one long parking lot and we could miss the entire event. So, we found a property posted on the town website where we are going.  (hotels were long sold out)

Vicki called and spoke with the owner of the house and (we think) farm. She was feeding chickens earlier and missed the first call.  She called back, talked to Vicki about the set-up, “rough camping, car camping, some port-o-lets will be set out, access to clean water…”

She even promised Vicki that we could “use the restroom in the house if we were more comfortable with that.”  All that for only $50! Sold.

That was in May. Car camping. One night. We can handle that.

Vicki went back and forth about buying a tent, but then we’d need sleeping bags. She doesn’t set-up tents well (her assessment), we need coffee in the morning so that meant buying a stove, which meant a coffee pot for it…on and on.

Ok. Ok. Back to car camping.

Last week, Vicki decided we needed to break up the driving trip to our tiny solar eclipse town. Since she drives the wide-open spaces of middle of America and I don’t, I agreed. The “let’s drive out and back on one long day like you do when you’re a poor college student” has now become a real trip.  Yes, still a cheap trip (still by design), but more parts to it now. Images of the motel in “Thelma and Louise” keeps scrolling in my head.

The next day, Vicki Facetimes me. She’s lying in the back of her new Prius with a yoga mat.

“The two of us won’t fit back here.  And it’s not very comfy, even with the mat.  I have blankets I’ll pack to make it softer.  I’ll sleep in the front passenger seat.  It lays back flat and, I’ve tested it. It’s not bad. I can sleep there and you can have the back.”  Vicki was firing off point after point.

I said, “Ok.”

I learned a long time ago that, when traveling, it’s best to let the person with the most passion about particular parts to lead.  Unless it’s something I really have a strong opinion about…roll with it.

So, today I bought a pool raft to be my mattress while sleeping in the back of the Prius.

It’s probably too long and won’t fit. The air may seep out during the night. But that’s not really the point of the trip now is it?