I can feel the wind, see the road and trees, landscapes blurring, flat, then windy, long straight ways, then curves and it feels good. My dogs cuddled into their seat, stopping to walk, to look at the grass and wonder about the countryside. The happy bustle of the dog show, the surprises, waiting and visiting, prancing in the ring. It feels so real and I long for it sitting in my too familiar desk chair; the LT is still in the shop. Adrienne offered to help, if I could make it to Tucson by Saturday she will squeeze us into her car and we can travel to Kalamazoo together. I’ve already called lists of people here in Santa Barbara. Yes, I can volunteer at the Nose Work trial, my RV broke down, it’s in the shop; yes I can come to the Flyers meeting and help plan the agility demo, my RV is in the shop; I called the photographer to have Olympia’s photos taken, I will go to my art class tomorrow and tell my story, as I did at my kennel club meeting last night, I will answer questions, I will show up at obedience practice this week and visit a friend at the art walk tonight. What happened to your trip? I will build the website for my training business. I will pick up the LT when it’s ready and then take it to the body shop. In my angst yesterday when the brakes still did not function a truck with a square bed tore a piece of the fiberglass from the door and left black streaks. It was the deciding factor as I’ve sat here working my calculator, how many hours a day could I be on the road and make my destination? I could do it. If I get the LT back today and forgo the bodywork, I could divide the driving 415 miles a day for 6 days, in an RV allowing a little time to stretch and gas that would take about 9 hours a day. Up at 6 am, on the road by 7:30, find  a spot for the night by 4:00 or 5 pm, eat, walk the dogs, get to sleep by 10. It’s doable. If nothing goes wrong, if I can find places to camp, or a motel, if the dogs don’t have trouble, if the RV actually is fixed. If my headaches settle down. I could groom Olympia late at night when I arrived. If I couldn’t leave until Saturday that would still give me 5 days, I could hurry the rest stops, drive faster, drive longer. So why have I given up? Why do I feel this panicked feeling? Why have I told friends that I’m not going? It’s the “sensible” me. Ripping the little hole in the body was a terrible shock. It’s so easy to have an accident, to lose control even for a moment. If I could get that fixed