Road Trips...

Road trips are an intrinsic part of the American experience. In a country that spans 3,148 east to west and is 3,794,066 square miles, it is inevitable that a road trip occurs at least once in the average American life.

For my part, I've been on many a road trip. Most occurred in my childhood as my parents drove from San Francisco up through California, Oregon, and into Washington, Idaho, Montana, Nevada, Iowa, or various parts of Canada. Other road trips took me out to the national parks of Utah and Colorado.

Road trips, as a child, always consisted of long naps leaning against my pillow and the window (my father was never very happy about this), listening to NPR over the radio as my parents tuned into the problems of the world, listening to The Beatles and various Disney soundtracks on my disk man, and chips. I'd usually go for Frito's and so would my parents. Sometimes we'd mix it up and get other types of chips, but it was always a salty treat for the long ride through endless highways that seemed to repeat scenery like it was on a rotating track.

These trips usually ended in one of two types of places: a family member's house or a national park. By the end of high school I'd driven with my parents to Yreka, CA, Ashland, OR, Eugene, OR, or Portland, OR so many times that there is no way that I could even guess as to the number. I'd be camping all along the norther half of California, up through Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, Alberta, Idaho, and Montana. I'd gone to Glacier National Park, Arches National Park, Yosemite National Park, Bryce Canyon, and many others.

Only in the past few years have I endeavored to embark on any solo adventures. After conquering much of Europe, I felt a strong urge to be my own passenger and lead my way on my own American adventure.

Much like my road trips of the past, this road trip would be filled with family visits and socializing. The only difference would be that it would be on my watch following my whims.

Up through the long smooth ride of Interstate 5, I lead my way up through California to stop in Yreka. I could see Mt. Shasta looming over me and fields stretching out into the sunny distance.

Trekking later, up through Oregon, I saw rainbows passing in the distance and heard the soft rush of wind blowing over the hood of my car as I zoomed past one rest stop and the next. The trees rushed by and I read licence plates with the names of states ranging from Alaska to Florida. People exited and entered the freeway carrying themselves on their own adventures.

Location: Road trip, U.S.A.