Road Trip Wednesday: Literally

For this week's edition of Road Trip Wednesday, I decided to take things literally and write about actual road trips.

I love road trips! Some of my best memories come from cruising across the country with my sister and our friend, E, in Frosty the Snow Car (my sister's white Honda Accord) from CA to DE. Three girls, a dog, and our own devices - the perfect recipe for adventure! Even now that a demanding full-time job and the outrageous price of gas keeps me tethered to home, my wanderlust resurfaces every so often like a gopher in the prairie. 

I recently found a journal we kept for our inaugural cross country trip circa 2001. (I think it was 2001. We didn't bother recording the year, figuring the trip was So Monumentally Unforgettable.) With help from me and E to finish some hectic, last minute packing (is there any other kind?), we finally set off from Davis, CA around midnight on a 3,000-mile adventure across I-80 with a carful of my sister's worldly possessions.  (Remember when all your worldly possessions fit inside an Accord?  Oh, to be so carefree again...)

What nobody told three clueless teenagers driving across The Northern Tundra States (Utah, Nevada, Wyoming, Nebraska) in sub-zero December temperatures is that a functional windshield sprayer is fairly essential.  When salt from the road turns your windshield into a white blindfold of death and your wiper fluid is frozen in the sprayer, necessity really becomes the mother of invention.

"BIG PROBLEM - salt from road has covered windshield. Our brilliant solution: pour windshield wiper fluid into cup with coffee residue and attempt to throw it onto windshield while speeding at 80 mph. Unfortunately, after trying 3 times, we unsuccessfully cleaned shit. Most blew into the car and 1 sq. in. of the windshield is clean. Needs improvement."

(In subsequent road trips, we refined our Prototype. Yes, Prototype was still necessary because what passes for "Non-Freezing Wiper Fluid" in CA apparently cannot withstand the arctic freeze of The Northern Tundra States. So we sawed off the bottom half of a Gatorade bottle and duct taped it to a long wooden dowel. This way, we could easily reach across the entire windshield and dump fluid on it even while maintaining cruising speed. Brilliant, if I must say so myself.)

We also gleefully discovered that the most popular gas stations across the midwest are called "Kum & Go." *snicker*

"Day 3, circa 4:20. C is swerving madly around the road. We stop to get coffee at the Kum & Go (snort!) Ironically, in the bathroom the only dispenser machine sold every type of condom known to man."

Some of the weirdest memories are random conversations borne of endless interstate monotony. This was labeled "Random Ohio Conversations":

"Question for The Ages: What is a buckeye?

C:  It's an acorn.

J and E: What!? No way.

C:  It's true. An acorn looks like a buck's eye.

E:  Oh, so strawberries should be called...rabbit's heart?

J:  That's ridiculous. What the hell kind of mascot is a buckeye? Do bucks walk around Ohio with an eye gouged out?

C:  No, that would be buck eye-less."

But really, the most important part of a road trip is the soundtrack. Unfortunately, we were novice road trippers at this point and forgot to create a mix tape. Er, mix CD?  (This was before the age of iPods. God, I'm old.)  All we had was the trusty old radio, which gladly spewed forth the same five songs across six states.

It's Been A While (Staind)

You Remind Me (Nickelback)

Hanging By A Moment (Lifehouse)

Wherever You Will Go (The Calling)

Be Like That (Third Eye Blind)

Truly, this is a dreadful soundtrack.

In summary, I greatly miss J and E. I miss our road trips. When can we cast aside mortgages and responsibilities and get back on the road again?