Each year is the same. We first hem and haw over who drove last. Neither of us actually wants to drive so we try to remember who drove last based on which purchases we loaded in whose car. Hubby settled it this year when he seemed to remember that Taz's Mom dropped me off last year. That means my car is gassed up, relatively free of bug bodies on the windshield, and most of the barn dirt has been vacuumed from the floor.
Even though we've made this trek close to 15 times (or more), we still print directions and we still make at least one wrong turn that requires both of us to scream as whoever is driving darts across 10 lanes of Southern California freeway. It's great fun.
We always arrive on time, park next to a light pole we recognize, and then haul ass to the nearest restroom. It's a two and a half hour drive, and if any beverage has been consumed along the way, the restroom becomes a huge priority. Once that stop is made, we sit at the fountain and plan our day.
Some years, it's the trade show that holds most of our attention. Other years, we amble from one clinic to another marveling at how much there is to learn. One year we actually sat through an entire barrel racing clinic conducted by Charmayne James even though neither of us would ever race barrels, mostly because we have trouble with our left and right. It was still interesting, related to horses, but really, we probably just needed to sit down for a while!
I haven't looked too closely at the day's schedule or the list of vendors. I kind of like to be surprised. The only things on my shopping list are fly spray, 4 tubes of de-wormer, renewals to two magazines, and two pairs of black, laced reins. My list is usally longer, but Santa did well this year. Maybe I'll actually come back with cash instead of an empty wallet filled with credit card receipts.
Enjoy your own weekend!