I always find that there is a one day adjustment period when I get back on the road after a long time. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been hauling around this Airstream for 15 years, or that towing it is like putting on a well-worn glove. Once the Airstream starts rolling, my mental framework gets a little bent and it takes a few hours to get used to the new shape.

In this case I couldn’t get on the road until after noon, which disturbed my routine even more. Normally I’ll start a long summer trip as early as possible, but there were several errands that had to be done on Wednesday morning before I could hitch up. Even after hitching up I had a mandatory stop at the Airstream Life office/warehouse to pick up inventory for the pop-up store.

The back bedroom is now jammed full, as well as the back of the car, the area under the dinette, one side of the bed, and some of the main hallway. There’s hardly a place to put my feet when I sit. I really don’t want to know how much weight I’m pulling, and it’s a good thing I’m traveling solo. Anyone who would want to come with me on this trip would have to be rather petite.

Since I’m heading to Austin, the first two days aren’t going to be full of interesting things. From Tucson to Van Horn is about 470 miles of Interstate 10, a fairly dull drive pockmarked by a few small cities—and El Paso, which for some reason always causes me a small case of indigestion. The traffic is inevitably far crazier than a city of that size should have; it’s like Dallas crammed into a single corridor. Let’s just say that this trip through didn’t alter my expectations, as I avoided various inventive lane-change maneuvers that the locals were demonstrating at sunset.

With Austin about 900 miles away, I had a choice between three 300-mile days or two 450-mile days. Having done this drive many times, I chose to go for the quick run and skip some favorite stopover spots like Balmorhea State Park and Caverns of Sonora. That left me with Van Horn, a town mostly known for being a stopover. It’s sort of the airport hotel of west Texas, with plenty of places to stay but only one reason to be there.

Because Arizona doesn’t observe Daylight Savings Time, I managed to cross two time zones in one day, so after 472 miles of driving I pulled into a forgettable little RV park at 10:00 pm Central Daylight Time. Normally I wouldn’t drive that late but of course for me it was only 8:00. The park features the standards of its ilk: dirt spaces, old but serviceable hookups, plenty of noise from the adjacent Interstate, hand-written notices from the sole proprietor, and anonymity. I was surprised to get the last space. Apparently quite a few people are staying in Van Horn long-term, from the look of the Jeeps and ruts and satellite dishes set up around me.

But I won’t be. The time zones are working against me, so even though I woke up at 4:45 Arizona time to respond to emails and write this, I’ll be hitting the road around 9:00 am local time. That means arriving in Austin by dinner if I don’t take a big break somewhere.

Fortunately I’m feeling the towing groove now. I think the changed view outside my window this morning has put my mind at ease. Even though the scene outside while I eat breakfast is merely dirt, desert scrub, and highway, it’s proof that the Airstream is mobile, as it was born to be. Those neurons in my brain that love new stimuli are lighting up with anticipation. So in a few minutes I’ll have this house/cargo carrier back on the asphalt, soaring east on I-10, all eight tires humming and the Mercedes diesel purring. It’s time to get going.