Before too much more time elapses, I decided to deviate briefly from the heaviness of the present-day story about my recent truck vs. pedestrian accident and highlight a trip V and I took in October to the ancient city of Bago, about two hours northeast of Rangoon.
I’ll give an update on my hospitalization in Thailand and recovery from the accident soon.
In the fall of 2016 while I was serving in Tashkent, I took a quick trip by myself to Bangkok for dental care. Nine years later, we found ourselves serving just an hour’s flight away, so we decided to visit — me for the second time and V for the first time. There’s nothing like a weekend in a new location to change the scene — and your perspective.
When V and I deplaned in Seoul after the longest flight we’d ever taken, we had one goal: to find a pet relief station for our poor cat. He had already been holding it for exactly 24 hours since V had packed him into the carrier for the taxi ride to Dulles. Since then, they’d flown to Atlanta, where they met me, and we’d flown together on to Seoul.
We weren’t sure how much longer the cat could hold it. We’d tried to get him to pee in Atlanta, but he’s a cat. It’s not like we could explain to him, “Hey, we know there’s no litter in this makeshift box. But this is your last chance for a very long time, so at least give it a try.”
And still, before we could search for a pet relief area, we had to proceed through Incheon Airport’s international transfer security check — a surprisingly chaotic process.
Our PCS trip to Rangoon last week broke records for each of us, including longest consecutive air travel time and longest individual flight.
When you add up the 2,731 miles it took me to cross the United States by car, the additional 879 miles I motored around the west coast before dropping off my car at my dad’s, and the 11,649 miles traveled by plane, you get 15,259. Fifteen thousand, two hundred and fifty nine miles of total wear and tear on the body for what will be both our farthest-away and our shortest tour yet.
In late July, after leaving Virginia and driving almost 2,800 miles by myself, I arrived in California. I think my friends and family used to be in disbelief when in 2022 I first started driving across the country alone to see them, but now my wild stunts have become almost expected.
My original plan had been to drive directly to the home of my nana in the San Francisco Bay Area. But when I’d looked at my route, I’d realized I would drive right by my mom’s in the Sierra Nevada Foothills on the way there. It made sense to stop at my mom’s to avoid arriving at my nana’s—about three hours farther away—at night. I got to my mom’s right around dinnertime, just as I’d planned.
After our grueling three-day packout ended late last month, I spent the following day preparing to drive across the United States by myself. Ideally I would have left first thing in the morning. But as the final day of our packout had stretched into the evening, I realized some tasks — like going to the bank and post office, returning newly purchased aerosols the movers wouldn’t pack, and making one last run to my private storage unit — would have to wait until the following morning. This would delay my departure until later in the day.
V spent the day cleaning the rental house where we had lived since early 2022, while I repacked all my suitcases at our temporary apartment. Once I finished, I loaded the car and ran a few last-minute errands before stopping by the house one final time to say goodbye. It was only a temporary goodbye to him, but a fond farewell to the only home we’ve known since we left Ciudad Juárez three and a half years ago.
In 2024, when I wasn’t making the most of my time outdoors, I managed to publish 35 posts, conclude my fourth tour handling international parental child abductions in the Office of Children’s Issues, and begin long-term training for my next assignment at the U.S. Embassy in Rangoon, Burma.
I also wrote a series of posts chronicling Foreign Service-related topics, including the centennial anniversary of the Foreign Service, the machinations of retirement and sixth tour bidding planning, and my best tips for success during FSI language study.
As I mentioned in the first post of my Trail Quest blog series, in 2020 I inadvertently started a bid to visit all of Virginia’s 43 (and counting) state parks with a pandemic isolation-era visit to Mason Neck State Park (MN). The site of friends’ kids’ birthday parties and impromptu weekend gatherings over the years, Mason Neck as our first state park was familiar, and probably – as the state park nearest our home – also the only Virginia state park we’d ever been to.
At that time, I was only peripherally aware of the state park system in Virginia. I didn’t realize how many parks existed, where they were, or how nice they were. We hiked outdoors in lots of places, but in retrospect they were northern Virginia’s abundant local parks or bigger-visit national parks. Occasionally I would see a sign for a state park off interstate 95 while we were on the way to somewhere else. But in 2023, I discovered Trail Quest.
Last summer and again this summer, my husband V and I revisited Water Country USA in Williamsburg, VA, for the first time in several years. Water Country USA, a waterslide park owned by SeaWorld, is located about 150 miles south of Washington, DC. The drive takes us almost two and a half hours each way, depending on traffic, making it an easy day trip by our standards.
We first visited the park in 2010, the year I finally bought my VW. At the time, my stepdaughters—now in their 20s and living on their own—were still in elementary school.
While Water Country USA holds fond memories for me, I wasn’t prepared for how much the cost of family fun in America has skyrocketed nearly 15 years later. I’m still baffled by how people manage to afford it.
In mid-June, as I finished my fourth tour, my husband V and I took a quick weekend trip to South Carolina. The occasion was an engagement party for my eldest stepdaughter A, who in April had become engaged to her longtime partner B. The following weekend, seizing likely my last opportunity for the foreseeable future to visit the west coast, I flew out and spent two weeks with my parents. I’d worked out the leave before my training schedule began in earnest by offering to stay in Children’s Issues an extra six weeks to cover a staffing gap, provided I could take time off at the end.
The subtext of both trips felt a little “last hurrah.” Obviously not in the sense I wouldn’t see family again, but because I was preparing to buckle down into more than a year of full-time, in-person pre-departure training at the Foreign Service Institute. Taking leave during training usually isn’t feasible, particularly as I was starting the first couple months of my schedule with a series of short classes I needed to attend each day of. Unless I potentially tacked leave on to Christmas when FSI was closed or a rest stop during my PCS to Asia itself, outside of holiday weekends I would be unlikely to get back to the west coast before heading to my next tour in Burma.
I had envisioned my recent travels as vacation and relaxing family time, but predictably, they passed in a blur. While I was still the master of my own schedule and had a lot of fun, the past month didn’t exactly feel like down time. As my flexibility to be outside of Washington dwindled, I wondered if my trips were the calm before the storm, or the storm before the calm.
In 2023, I met my goal of writing fewer words more often. I published 40 posts, several on Foreign Service-related topics. I wrote a series on bidding for and receiving my fifth assignment. I expanded a popular post about FS Housing into a series. I also wrote two new installments of ‘Your Questions Answered.’ In what turned out to be a very road trip and family-oriented year, I made four trips to the west coast and back – three by car – and my mom and dad each visited us on the east coast. In 2022, I’d received a promotion, meaning I wouldn’t be eligible to be promoted again for two years; I enjoyed the professional sweet spot where I didn’t have to PCS, learn a new job, or compete for promotion. The year ended on a sad note: my family faced the death of my stepmother and learned the hard way about the limitations of the Medicare-funded hospice program in the United States.
A couple of weeks ago, my husband V and I drove from Virginia out to Washington state to see my dad and stepmom. My stepmom has been ill and we wanted to spend some time with her and help out my dad. My brother C and my stepbrother J with his family were also planning to be there. Although this was my fourth cross-country trip to the west coast and back in the last 13 months, it was the first one where I didn’t go alone.
As the African proverb from which I borrowed the title of this post tells us, we can get somewhere fastest on a schedule that doesn’t account for the needs of any other travelers, but going the distance often requires more support. Although I have proven with my last year of solo road trips that I can go both fast and far alone, I can also acknowledge there have been plenty of times when having another driver and companion would’ve made the trip more enjoyable (and less worry-inducing for my parents?). And I certainly experienced that on this trip.
People are typically surprised to hear I’ve driven from the east coast to the west coast and back alone not just once, but three times during the last 12 months. I suppose it is surprising given the distance, sometimes even to me. Of course, there are times flying to one’s destination makes the most sense. After all, I’ve lived abroad five times and until the pandemic, flew on planes like it was my job. But I absolutely LOVE driving. In 2022 I took six major solo-driver road trips, totaling a whopping 22,127 miles. I’ve continued that trend in March 2023 with my biggest solo cross-country trip yet: a personal record of 7,963 miles. Not only did I take the scenic route behind the wheel as sole driver, on five of the seven trips I was also totally alone.
Although solo road trips are something I deeply enjoy, I recognize the inherent risk. I don’t necessarily recommend someone “endurance drive” if they feel it it’s a bad idea for them. Many people have told me driving all day is boring or makes them sleepy. Since I was a teenager, I’ve been taking five-hour road trips alone and have almost never felt this way. While there are plenty of things in life I find hard to do, driving for long periods isn’t one of them. But to whatever extent it is or isn’t your thing, there are ways to make it easier. Whether a cross-country solo road trip sounds like fun or slightly insane to contemplate, in order to answer the questions I keep getting about how I do this… here in no particular order are my top 25 tips for road tripping as safely as possible in the United States, especially if I go alone.
Last month, my husband V and I took a few days off and connected them to a weekend, heading to a five-day beach house rental on North Carolina’s Carolina Beach and kicking off the first of many fun summer plans. I (inadvertently) got a scorching sunburn, fell asleep each humid night hearing the waves of the Atlantic Ocean crash into the sandy shore, saw a record two dozen pelicans at once, ate lots of good food, and even saw my favorite band. The weather was a little stormier than I’d expected, but we had about a day and a half of good beach time without a chilly wind. And the best thing: downtime with V where we didn’t have to think about work.
As I mentioned in my Road Trips 2022 roundup post last December, I not only drove by myself from northern Virginia to the west coast in June, but also in November to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. I left at the end of a busy work day the Thursday before the holiday, fighting my way through rush-hour traffic on the beltway to get a head start on my journey.
And as usual when you’re trying to leave the office for a couple of weeks at a time, I had an active international parental child abduction case with two children returning to the United States from Venezuela in-progress that very afternoon. Thanks to the help of my excellent colleagues, I was able to track the return up until I needed to walk out the door, and then hand the case off to my backup. As I crossed my first mountain pass in Pennsylvania’s Alleghenies against pelting snow, she worked to monitor the landing of the children’s flight in Miami and update our leadership on their reunification with the left-behind parent. When I finally checked into my motel in Ohio and caught up with my work emails very late at night, I was elated to see all was well that ended well. Fortunately for me, my road trip went just as smoothly.
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