On the Road Again

The other half and I have ventured out on a road trip again.

Miles upon miles of highway stretched out before us, flanked by farmland. Billboards advertising adult stores, religious messages and everything in between break up the monotony, along with truck stop and gas station signs that reach sky high. There’s also the visual signs of civilization, the small towns in the distance, the gravel and paved roads that dot the landscape, the farm buildings and implements that indicate the Midwest.

But then, the major cities emerge, showing that even the land of corn has metropolises. The four lanes of the interstate become eight and become chaotic with cars seeming to move at every speed. The locals merge on and off the highways almost frenetically as tourists are just trying to figure out what lane just to stay in to get across the city. Almost as quickly as the city emerged, the roads merge back into just two lanes in each direction, a little more hectically as cars file out of the cities.

The leapfrog begins. Cars seem to pass each other, their license plates turned into a game to pass the time. Trucks laden with goods join this caravan, their diesel engines humming tunes as the vehicles pass them. Occasionally, a horn will blow as someone does the arm pump, though that pastime seems to have been passed its time.

Over my forty plus years on this earth, I have road-tripped a greater part of the continuous forty-eight states of the United States. I’ve seen the majesty of the Rockies, the naturally painted scenes of the deserts of the Southwest, the rolling woods of the Eastern Seaboard and, of course, the waving corn and soybean laden fields of the Midwest.

One of my favorite ways to pass the time on such trips has been to watch the scenery drift by the windows, imaging stories of places. I wonder things like why a pool is in the middle of nowhere, miles from anything. I ask why places may have gotten their names (I know I can google, but I enjoy coming up with scenarios in my mind instead). I ask why some windmills move while others stand almost perfectly still in the same field. I imagine characters and how they would react to the breathtaking view of a pristine lake in the midst of mountains, or the endless miles of farmland, or the way the cacti or scrub seem to stretch on endlessly until the meet the rocky mountains in the distance. I have watched many a cloud stay in place as the miles continue to move, chugging onward and onward in whatever vehicle I happen to be in.

The rest stops are always fun too.

Road trips will always be a source of mystery and wonderment for me. They will be a magical part of my journey, as long as I keep remembering to look for that special spark. They will continue to be a part of the story of life that I write.

Stay magical, friends.

Write your own story.

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4 thoughts on “On the Road Again”

  2. I love how you have the adventure of the road trip, and the extra adventure your imagination brings to the sights you are passing.

    Thank you for jostling a memory loose to laugh at once again. On a 4 hour trip north to Grandma’s house, my brother and I were riding in the back of my parent’s vehicle while my dad drove and my mom napped in the front. At one point, a semi passed us on the freeway. We of course waved until we got the driver’s attention, then pumped our arms until he replied with a long blast from his air horn. What we didn’t think about was that he was lined up with the passenger window where my poor mom was sleeping. Thank goodness she was belted in, or she’d have leaped through the roof of the car. She was furious but my brother and I couldn’t stop laughing.

    I hope you have a safe trip, a wonderful time at the wedding, and many magical moments 💞💞💞

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