Nobody who drives the car I drive should spend as much time on the road as I have in the last couple days.

Yesterday I picked up my uncle and aunt, who’d flown in from Maryland, and took them down to Kenyon for the family reunion. They asked me to do this even after I explained the true condition of Mrs. Hermanson, my Chevy Tracker. I can only give them credit for a level of trust equal to that of the centurion of whom the Lord said, “Not even in Israel have I seen such faith.”

As it turned out, we made the trip without incident, except for one of those incidents specially planned by the professionals at our state Department of Transportation. Those dedicated public servants believe in doing a job right, so once they had closed off the most direct route to Kenyon (Highways 55 and 56 by way of Hampton), they finished off the job neatly by also closing the southbound lanes on I35, the second best route, sending us off into the wilds of Burnsville without a marked detour. This forced me to perform the Extreme Act of stopping at a gas station for directions.

The reunion was great. We’ve had nicer weather (it was overcast but didn’t actually rain on us), but the company was good, and I had a better time than at any reunion in some years. Especially nice to see Cousin Tom from Kansas. And of course the road time with my uncle and aunt was precious. They don’t get up this way much anymore.

Today I drove up to Fergus Falls (which is just short of Moorhead) for a meeting of the Georg Sverdrup Society Board. 2 1/2 hours each way. Mrs. Hermanson again made it there and back without a tantrum.

This weekend, back to Kenyon for my high school class reunion.

I think it’s best described as vehicular Russian roulette.