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An Ode to the Summer Road Trip
The alluring simplicity of life on the open road
The summer road trip never quite lives up to its promise, but it deserves an ode all the same. Much like life itself, there are stretches that don’t exactly qualify as “fun.” There are the incessant backseat “when-are-we-gonna-get-theres,” the subpar coffee, the motel rooms that look nothing like the online photos, the over-optimistic arrival times, the inexplicable traffic jams, the monotony of car tires humming against asphalt.
But there is also an alluring simplicity to life on the road, a single-minded determination to merely get from point A to point B.
Life at home is a forever forking journey of a thousand destinations. We spend our days trying to reach them all at once, gasping and grasping. The stimuli assault us from all directions, the tasks pile precariously. It is difficult, at the end of a typical day, to feel a sense of accomplishment. For every task completed, a dozen lie in wait.
But on the road, there is only the road. Maybe the day is a little better if we find a good IPA on draft to accompany our dinner, or if the gas station bathroom is cleaner than we expected, or if the motel has an outdoor table in the shade. These are the extras, though, the nice-to-haves. A successful day is measured in miles, and nothing else.
