I have had a thirst for travel and adventure since I can remember. My earliest childhood dream vacation was conceptualized at the age of three, my luggage a red hankerchief gathered up by all four corners and tied to a stick, destination: China! How I even knew there was such a place at that young age despite being brought up in a -shall we say - rural community in the 1960's can only be credited to my mother, who made it a point to expand our horizons in every way possible. She also encouraged my already vivid imagination, and thus armed, (a navel orange and 3 cookies packed in my kerchief in case I got hungry along the way) I set off down the country lane of my family ranch. I figured it would take about 3 1/2 hours to get to Hong Kong, due south as the crow flies. I would have to veer of the beaten path and make my way through the California chaparal, keeping my eyes peeled for rattlesnakes, to stay on course. I decided to walk alongside the creek that ran through "The Ranch" from the Ramona Mountains to Highway 395. The weather was fine, a quintessential autumn afternoon in San Diego. I was trying to whistle, with little success. But my imagination picked up where my abilities lagged, and I pretended to whistle just like Huck Finn. Those cookies were sounding pretty good by then, but I decided I had better ration my provisions, on account of there not being enough food to feed all the starving children in China. I began to wonder if one orange and three cookies was adequate for this length of journey. Maybe going all the way to China wasn't such a good idea, maybe I would just go to Hawaii instead. I calculated it would take about an hour on foot, and another 20 minutes to swim the English Channel - just like Florence Chambers! Singing a little song I improvised for the occasion, anticipating all the surprises Hawaii had to offer, I was about 40 minutes into my trip when it happened. The incident that caused me to abort my mission and return home humiliated, without having seen Hawaii or China. I had to pee. Suddenly and quite urgently. Granted, I was in the middle of acres upon acres of wild sage, anise, and mustard, most taller than I was, and there was nobody around except the 30 or so species of serpents, reptiles, and assorted stinkbugs to watch me do the deed. But I was too scared to drop trow, I had to head for home. Thinking it wise to run, the impact of each step increased my discomfort. I made a valiant effort ala Flo Jo, but to my chagrin, for the first and last time in my entire life, I wet my knickers. It felt gross, and I cried all the way home. China would have to wait until tomorrow, and I resolved to pack an extra pair of shorts for future emergencies should they arise. I was greeted upon my arrival home by a wild eyed and rather frantic welcoming commitee, and was informed that under no uncertain terms was I to embark upon any further international travel un-chaperoned. It would take nearly four decades for me to reach the beautiful sands of Hanalei Bay, but that's a story for another time!
