I love to take off spontaneously. The roads less traveled, the unexpected sight, the wonder-where-this-goes. Val-deri, val-dera and all that.

But after a recent three-day escape to Oregon, I am kissing spontaneity goodbye. I simply have a few more requirements than in the salad days of my youth.

1. Nothing in the world could make me sleep on the ground ever again. I am no longer spry enough to launch myself away from a wolf spider or banana slug paying a visit to my sleeping bag. Even without attack by nature, I’d suffer months of follow-up chiropractics from the crick in my neck when the air mattress collapsed.

2. I know all I care to know about gray water or black water. No freewheelin’ RVin’ for me. Road trips involve motels from now on. Either that or a travel partner who never questions my division of labors.

3. It’s no longer easy to take any old motel vacancy. I have needs now that make spontaneity so yesterday. Does the motel take AARP or AAA? Offer frequent flyer miles? Have a bed with fewer than 100,000 miles on it? Include free shampoo, conditioner, body lotion, WiFi, cable, seriously good coffee and breakfast? Are someone else’s toenail clippings caught in the carpet loops? Is there a sani-band around the toilet seat (I know it means nothing, but it makes me feel good).

4. Speaking of toilets. I’m sorry, but no more holes in boards. Toilets need to be capable of flushing. And because many females of a certain age have exacerbated their already weak bladders by the addition of water pills, we really need them fairly often. Combine this with the fact that I have acquired a late-in-life addiction to a vanilla latte mid-morning. No matter how deep into the wilderness we plan to be, I must find the nearest town at about 10:30 a.m. A good travel partner never points out the obvious flaws in this plan.

Of course, I realized some while back that hiking the Pacific Crest Trail might not meet all my basic travel requirements. But after a three-day “spontaneous” road trip to Oregon, I recognize matters have gotten entirely out of hand. I have become a pain in the butt even to myself.

Anyone care to be my travel partner?

Linda B. Myers is a founding member of Olympic Peninsula Authors and writer of such books as “Fun House Chronicles,” and the Bear Jacobs mystery series. Her newest novel, “Bear At Sea,” published in March, is now available at amazon.com. Contact her at myerslindab@gmail.com or Facebook.com/lindabmyers.author.