Triplog Day 1: A Nightmare in Newark

To be honest, I don’t know where to start. In fact, I don’t think I have the energy after everything that has transpired in the 20+ hours since my last post. My chair is broken, I spent four hours in a Newark emergency room with skin breakdown, and some of our luggage got lost. And that barely scratches the surface of what kind…

Prologue: No Pressure

When you spend your life in a wheelchair, you get approached with a lot of questions. Strangers want to know, “How’d you wind up in that thing?” Acquaintances ask, “Any progress on the cure?” or “Have you tried moving anything lately?” Kids mostly want to know how I drive the thing. Oh, and how I pee. Over the last calendar year…

Triplog Day 11: Mission Accomplished?

At long last, we are finally home. It’s hard to wrap your head around any road trip a few short hours after it’s concluded, let alone one this short yet somehow so packed with drama. Let’s just say it’s that educational at the very least. Yes, I hit every destination I’d planned to, and was able to see more…

Triplog Day 10: Bookends in Bend

We’ve all heard the saying, “Stick with what works.” But what if everything you’ve done up to this point has resulted in varying levels of catastrophe as has been the case so far with this road trip? Say fuck it, and double down. We started off the morning with breakfast on the Stanford campus with Fiona and Will. Technically,…

Triplog Day 9: On the Road Again

It’s always hard leaving my grandparents’ house. I don’t take a single moment I have with them for granted, because even anecdotal conversations with those lovebirds is sprinkled with wisdom on life, love and how to stay happy into your 10th decade. From the way Grandpa still insists Grandma take his hand up and down…

Triplog Day 8: Typical Salvini Fun in the Desert

A surprise visit from relatives I haven’t seen in almost 15 years was a real treat for Claire and me. My dad’s brother Larry, his daughter Tonya and her son Bentley showed up around noon with Larry’s wife Sherri and her granddaughter Tatiana. Suddenly we had four generations of Salvini’s under one roof. Bentley showed zero fear…

Triplog Day 7: Come Hell or High Water.

We rolled up to the intersection of Lear Avenue and Indian Trail Road to find the dirt path to my grandparents’ house a mess of deep ruts from flash flooding a  few months ago and laughed. It figures that Life would toss a minor speed bump in our way to one of my happiest places on…

Triplog Day 6: A Grand Ol’ Time

After traipsing all around the Southwestern states, getting lost (twice) and almost running out of gas (TWICE) this picture pretty well sums up our trip to the Grand Canyon this afternoon. I’m amazed we made it to Twentynine Palms in one piece.

Triplog Day 5: Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.

Somewhere deep down I knew Las Vegas wasn’t going to let me leave without one last metaphorical bitch slap, but I naïvely assumed I’d earned a drama-free Date Night. Silly me. All it took was a five-minute ride from the Rio to Harrah’s to illustrate just how crucial a precision-fit wheelchair truly is. Things like custom seatbacks and specifically placed armrests…

Triplog Day 4: Limping Gratefully Along

After a day like yesterday, there really is no way to recover other than to put one (figurative) foot in front of the other. That sounds really easy when even your figurative feet aren’t in working order. My chair was officially dead when I woke up this morning, meaning there would be no drunk driving through the…