Getting there was none of the fun
— The worst part of our weekend getaway to Cottonwood was getting there. At least for me. It was not half the fun. It was none of the fun. Driving something as big as my parents’ motor home had my knuckles white the entire way. Every bump in the road amplified itself as it rolled like a wave through the RV, rattling all its contents. And the rig seemed to create its own source of wind every time the speedometer passed 60 mph.