I formally start each day by turning on the local television news. I say “formally start” because quite often, I’ve already been awake for a few hours, lounging around, hoping to get back to sleep. But on January 4^th, I actually managed to sleep until a little past 6 AM, so I turned on the news as soon as I got to the living room. The first thing I saw was coverage of a storm that had dumped several inches of snow in Boone, North Carolina.

As most of my readers already know, I have a young Great Pyrenees dog. Or horse. I’m going to have the vet run a DNS test to determine his actual species. This animal is named Bear, which just adds to the species confusion. Being a Great Pyrenees, his coat is VERY soft, fluffy, and thick. So it should come as no surprise that, almost from day one, he has demonstrated a preference for cold weather. But we don’t get much wintry weather here in the Charlotte metropolitan area. It had even occurred to me that Bear might go his whole life without experiencing more than just a dusting of snow. I therefore had long since decided to take Bear to the mountains at some point this winter, to make sure he gets to play in snow at least once. Thus, the morning news served as a call to action!

I knew that I wanted to be able to let Bear romp around unleashed, so I did some Googlin’ for dog parks in the area. I settled on one in the town of Beech Mountain, about a three-hour drive from home. I had never been to Beech Mountain, and it seems the GPS app on my phone had never been there either, as it was apparently making up the directions on the fly. I found myself on narrow, tortuous mountain roads that were littered with recently fallen tree branches, and water from the melting snow was streaming all over these roads. Knowing that all that water would likely turn to ice as the temperature fell, I decided before we had even arrived that we had to leave Beech Mountain before sunset.

OK, we arrived at the dog park, where the snow had drifted a little, so it was as much as a foot deep in a couple places. While he had fun playing with a 5-month old Huskie mix who was also experiencing his first snow, Bear didn’t seem impressed/enthused about the snow, but he didn’t dislike it either. He pretty much acted like it was the normal ground cover…which I suppose is what I should have expected from his breed. Once Bear seemed to have tired himself out, we headed for home, with plenty of daylight left.

At this point, my GPS app finally figured out where it was. The voyage home consisted almost entirely of actual (and dry) highways. It completely avoided all the little mountain roads that I had been concerned about. In fact, the drive was actually pretty boring…to the point where I was getting a bit sleepy. I had brought a few cans of Mountain Dew with me in case of this eventuality, so I started sucking down the green caffeine. I had probably consumed two twelve-ounce cans by the time we got to Morganton, and I felt like it would be smart to visit a toilet while passing through town. I stopped at the next gas station, but their one and only toilet was out of order. No problem, I thought, I’ll just drive a couple more blocks and find another urine-worthy establishment.

Then, when I had driven less than a block, it happened: Urinary Urgency (the Big Double-U) struck with lightning speed and at full force. In an instant, I went from feeling like I should probably go potty, to feeling as though Lake Ontario was trying to burst outta me. I clamped down as hard as I could, and for as long as I could. Unfortunately, the next few blocks were entirely residential, and traffic had become surprisingly heavy. Before I could find a place to go, I reached the point where I could hold it no longer. I tried to let just a little bit leak out, hoping to buy a little more time, but I found that the floodgate had only two positions: Open or Closed; there was no in-between. And once the floodgate was open, it would not close until the bladder was completely empty. So there I was, still two hours from home, my jeans and my driver seat absolutely sopping wet. And I learned something: heated seats should not be turned on while soaked with urine. The seat cushion started making a repeated clicking sound, and with each click, my butt received a mild electric jolt. So I turned that heat off in a hurry.

Now you may be saying to yourself, “But Cedric, why would a grown man publicly blog about peeing his pants?” And if you are talking to yourself…and calling yourself Cedric…then you may be in serious need of psychological help. Believe me! I call myself Cedric, and I am in serious need of psychological help. But seriously folks, this is a Parkinson’s / travel blog. Most people don’t know it, but urinary urgency (bladder control issues, incontinence, call it what you want) is one of the many potential effects of Parkinson’s Disease, and it most certainly makes travel more challenging.

The most obvious way to face this challenge is the good ol’ adult diaper. When I started experiencing urinary issues a few years ago, I went ahead and bought some adult diapers, but I only wear them on occasions when I feel there’s a good possibility of not being able to get to a toilet (such as on a flight). Thus far, I’ve never actually “used” one. This is largely due to mannitol. I have found that, for me, taking about a teaspoon of mannitol a few times a day prevents urinary issues. The problem is that mannitol is a fine white powder, and I’m concerned about what might happen if I get stopped by police when I’m traveling with a fine white powder. I don’t need to spend a night in jail while the cops try to determine whether I’m carryin’ cocaine or anthrax. Or flour to make pot brownies.