Twelve Hours of Asphalt

Twelve hours on the road is a lot of asphalt, but it beats a crowded airport terminal any day. Christy and I loaded up the rig and pointed it south toward Fleming Island. No complicated spreadsheets or rigid itineraries—just the open road and a goal to see family.

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Road Companions

Zippy handled the miles like a seasoned pro. He’s a three-legged wonder who doesn’t let much slow him down, especially when he’s got his favorite blue bandana on and a window to watch the world go by. Having him and Christy along makes the long stretch of I-95 feel less like a chore and more like the start of an adventure.

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Finding the Rhythm

Driving that long gives you time to clear your head. Between the dry dad jokes and the quiet moments, we found our rhythm. We favor the journey over the destination, keeping an eye out for those hole-in-the-wall spots that serve food with actual soul.

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A Higher Purpose

We’re here to reconnect and find some peace away from the winter noise back home. It’s a reminder that no matter how long the road is, the destination is worth the effort when family is waiting at the end.

“And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.” — Galatians 6:9