We leave on a photography
trip for R. to Yosemite with me tagging along to write. One of the problems
with having a truck is that the sky’s the limit when you’re packing. And since
I’m someone who gets nervous and anxious leaving home, I find the best way to
feel secure, if misguided, is to take as much of my stuff with me as possible.
We load enough into the truck for a family of six to go camping for a month –
or a photographer and a writer to go to a hotel for five days. There’s all of
R’s photography equipment which I won’t even attempt to describe, but it
involves tripods and giant lenses, then suitcases and duffle bags with sweaters
and scarves and jackets and boots. And a special little traveling case for wine.
There’s a big canvas bag of books and magazines, a friend’s unpublished memoir,
and another’s essay. Then there’s my traveling office case on wheels with
files, notebooks and Mac, keyboard and mouse, and iPhone and all the wires and
plug-ins to keep everything going. And the car bag with the Sunday New York
Times, almonds and apples, bags for trash and a bottle of hand sanitizer (this is where R
starts rolling his eyes.)

But we’re off!  We have a lovely six hour drive north
except for an unfortunate stop in Fresno at a restaurant named Applebees which
is highly unfriendly to vegetarians. I finally negotiate a sandwich with
portabello mushrooms, and tomato and lettuce from the Italian Chicken Sandwich
(hold the chicken, hold the tomato sauce) and start to feel like Jack Nicholson
ordering that chicken sandwich – but not as calm.

Finally we arrive in
Yosemite at this very nice hotel but there’s no desk in our room. A lovely view
of a waterfall and snow but no place to
write. I call down to reception. There’s no desk! I say, and since this is
not a hotel where people tend to hole up in their rooms to work, she’s kind of
surprised at my urgency about it. But mentions many rooms downstairs with
tables where I might work. Which is where I am right now. It’s actually a huge
room with floor to ceiling mullioned windows on two sides and it’s beautiful
with its view of snow and pine trees. And I’m thinking how absolutely wonderful
all this all is and I’m going to apologize to R. when he gets back from his
picture taking for being such a cranky traveler and having a fit at Applebees
and all that business about not having a desk. I’m a writer and of course
writers can write anywhere. And I can always just eat the bags of almonds I
brought with me.

Writing Prompt:  You have one small suitcase to pack to
take with you on a very long trip. What will you put in it? (FYI: All
necessities will be taken care of. 
I once gave this prompt to a group of writers without stipulating about
the necessities and everyone got very overwrought and hated the exercise.)