So, we searched for a window of opportunity and found such an opening between the time our eldest finished his university exams and the time he was slated to start his summer job. Then we enlisted him to care for the hounds and the homestead - oh, and his siblings, too - and we booked ourselves off for a 10-day getaway, and booked ourselves into an ocean-front hotel on the scenic, serene and sandy shores of Hilton Head, South Carolina.

Personally, I didn't think we'd ever get out of our laneway at home let alone onto the long and winding road(s) that would take us south, and allow us to follow the fugitive sun. Indeed, there were moments when, despite our meticulous planning, and the fact that we had this baby booked, I truly believed the holiday would never happen.

It's not that we are exactly cursed, but in our lives the stars sometimes seem slightly out of line. As the holiday neared, things at my wife's company went crazy, as things tend to do in the wild and woolly world of public relations. Further, our eldest dog, Franny, was suddenly acting her age, which is to say, somewhat sick and senile (that's a euphemistic way of saying the old goat was sick as a dog and nuttier than a fruitcake!).

Thankfully, my wife was able to keep business muzzled and at bay, and Fran got on some good medication and rebounded, acting less and less like a dog set to celebrate her 98th birthday. We finalized instructions for the kids - don't burn down the house and try not to murder each other - filled the tank with overpriced fuel and hit the wide-open road; 'wide-open', that is, with the exception of the entire state of Pennsylvania which, for the second straight year, is...under construction!

It's an interesting drive from our home to the sunny south, with stretches that are awe-inspiring (John Denver's Blue Ridge Mountains, for instance), and stretches so mind-numbingly monotonous they test your sanity. And no matter where you go in the USA, there are always interesting people to watch. In one restaurant in West Virginia (restaurant motto: Eat Like It's Your Last Meal -- and patrons were doing just that!), my wife and I considered that there wasn't a man in the place who hadn't killed something with his bare hands.

But the 18-hour drive is all worth it when you cross the bridge onto Hilton Head and witness the island in all its redolent glory, in full summer bloom. Crossing the bridge we put Gram Parsons on the stereo: "In South Carolina, there are many tall pines. I remember the oak tree that we used to climb. But now when I'm lonesome, I always pretend, that I'm getting the feel of hickory wind."

There's something soul-restoring in that hickory wind. And there's something rejuvenating about walking barefoot on a beach, under a cloudless sky and a watchful sun, sans commitments and cares, watching dolphin fins rising and falling in the ocean waves, witnessing sandpipers comically scooting along the sand, and seeing the smile returning to your wife's face.

Andy Juniper can be visited at his Web site, www.strangledeggs.com, or contacted at ajuniper@strangledeggs.com.