It had been nearly 2 months since I moved to Florida when Don finally landed an offer to work remotely for a company in Canada. But when he turned in his two week's notice, his current corporation was not willing to let him leave. Instead, they gave him a laptop, set him up with a VPN,Virtual Private Network and told him to visit once in a while (specifically for one week every two months). It would be the last time he regularly worked in a cube and thus, one of his intentioned desires was spontaneously fulfilled.

By mid August, he stuffed the car and started the long drive south. But the journey was not without complications. First there was the flat tire, deep in the middle of Nowhere, West Virginia. He had to remove the bikes from the tail rack, and empty out his tightly packed trunk to get to the spare. And of course he then had to do the reverse after the little doughnut was bolted in place.

Don needed to purchase a proper replacement radial, but the tiny town had rolled up its sidewalks for the evening, so he was forced to spend the night a bit further north than he intended. And with the morning's acquisition came two more bike removal, unpacking, repacking, and bike loading exercises; one to retrieve the rim on the flat, and one to stow the spare.

Unfortunately, once he returned to the highway, events didn't get much better when a semi up ahead kicked out a large bolt. With astonishing acrobatics, the spike vaulted across the asphalt, and stuck its landing inside Don's wheel well, its head grinding noisily on the rapidly spinning rubber just below.

And again, he was forced to pull over to the side of the road. Unable to remove the now burning hot rod by hand, once again he had to toss the bikes off the car, excavate some vice grips from his trunk, remove the obstruction before tire number two blew, cram the crap back in the trunk, and throw the bikes back on the rack.

We had been apart for two months and the anticipation of being together again was excruciating. Yet it seemed his determination to join me was fully being tested. But the sunny skies above and the knowledge that I awaited at the end of the road kept his smile from falling from his face. I'm not sure what kept the bikes from being abandoned on the interstate.

Meanwhile, each progress report prompted me to modify my 'Welcome to Your New Life' plans. A lovely dinner out at a waterside bistro with a romantic sunset walk along the lapping shore morphed into a homemade meal and a perfunctory 'here's the beach' jog. As I headed out to the grocery store, my cell phone groaned.

"You're not going to believe this!" Don exclaimed. "My car battery died!"

This time, his alternator altered our plans. A mere 140 miles lay between us, and fortunately, the camp chairs were in his back seat. He waited with the gators while I bought a new battery, and our long anticipated reunion took place on the side of I75.

The ride that Don and I were both on still seemed to have a lot of twists and turns in store, but we'd crested over some of its biggest waves. We had pared down our possessions, found ways to work from Florida, and bought a boat – pretty formidable achievements indeed! However, now that we were together again – the rest didn't seem so insurmountable.

The rest, of course, included selling our house in a depressed real estate market, and getting our 10 ton sailing vessel safely sent over 1,325 miles of rolling highway. And to add some froth to that endeavor was a rogue wave rambling around the coast by the name of Hurricane Katrina. But we were hanging twenty in the tube, and nothing was going to make us bail now!