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You think the goal is over there, and we say the goal is the journey over there; the goal is the fun you have along the way to over there. Abraham-Hicks

Our carry-on suitcases are packed.  Cam is making us sandwiches.  I still have a to-do list a mile long.  But that’s okay because what I don’t get done can wait – in one hour we’ll be on our way.  To Detroit.  Then to Atlanta.  Then to Barcelona, and tomorrow morning.  This is our plan.  Once we land in Barcelona, after we brush our teeth and wash our faces, to get right in the saddle, to get right in the taxi and make our way over to the depot to pick up that motorhome.  And to believe my mother-in-law when she says jet lag doesn’t exist.  We don’t have time for jet lag on this adventure.  Our plan is to drive over to France, through sunflower country and into the fields of lavender, through our day into evening and the town of Saint-Paul-Trois Chateaux.  And the next morning, to be there in that glorious French village for the start of Stage 16 of the Tour de France, to be there to cheer our guys on.  Then our plan get’s  a little fuzzy.  We know that we want to be on the high slopes of the Galibier on Thursday for the Stage 18 mountaintop finish.  And we’ll see what happens in the in-between.  We’re thinking of parking somewhere near Briancon, the highest village in the Alps, on Tuesday.  And you know what, it doesn’t matter.  It’s all good.  It’s all an adventure.  It’s all a glorious gift.  And I’m going to make it fun.  And I don’t want to miss a moment of it.  Helen and Cam’s Grand Tour-with-the-Motorhome Adventure.

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