America offers opportunities for many things, but among my
favorite, are road trips. It’s
incredible how much land is out there with no one living on it, and how many
freeways exist without traffic jams.
It’s pure freedom to drive 75mph and not see more than a handful of cars
for hours on end. It’s how American
roads should be.
When I was 18, I moved to Oregon. One of the reasons I was excited to live
there was because it was just that much closer to California. Being raised in Washington, a certain draw
gets formed to visit the land of sunshine and movie stars.
After I’d lived in Astoria for exactly a year, I realized
I’d yet headed south. I fixed that
immediately by inviting a friend to join me on a road trip to go have lunch in
California the next day. We drove nine
hours down the coast, stopped and ate a very late lunch just across the border,
then drove right back home. The scenery
was gorgeous, the weather perfect, and except for a speeding ticket in Lincoln
City, it was a wonderful way to spend the day.
Years later, my husband and I were on the East Coast on our
honeymoon when we had to come home unexpectedly. We drove 14 hours each day and at the end of
five thankfully uneventful days, we arrived.
Along the way we listened to tapes, sang songs about places we’d passed,
and watched the landscape change outside the window. It wasn’t something I’d do often, but I’d
sure do it again. Seeing America, even at high rates of speed, was a
treat. I also got very good at “drive by
shootings,” as I pointed my camera out the window, trying to capture the
essence of it all.
A few years ago a friend wanted to see her grandson play
college football in Northern California.
I jumped at the chance to drive her down one day, watch the game, and
drive home afterwards. It was pure
heaven having her all to myself for two days on the road. The trip went off
without a hitch.
Just last week I flew to Denver Wednesday morning, where a
friend met me at the airport so I could drive her back home to Skagit County. Twenty
hours of no traffic, beautiful landscapes, and lots of time to chat, all
without incident. We made it back before
dinnertime on Thursday.
And then, that night, I attended a meeting in Mount Vernon and
I wasn’t sure I’d ever make it home again. Lightening touched down all around me, as I
drove McLean Road. It felt like I was in
a war zone.
It reminded me of a joke about a guy who read that most car
accidents happened within ten miles of home, so he moved.
After all the incredibly nice road trips I’ve been on in America,
ironically, the biggest danger I’ve faced was right in my own neighborhood, but
I’m not movin’.
