The Great American and Canadian Road Trip (and Why We are Going on It)

Road trips have a special place in the 20th Century literature of the United States. They also have a place in many of our souls.

Scott Fitzgerald, the author of The Great Gatsby, wrote The Cruise of the Rolling Junk in 1924. In what were originally a series of newspaper articles, Fitzgerald described a trip from Connecticut to Alabama that he took with his wife, Zelda, in a broken-down car (the rolling junk). It tells the story of a younger and not always better United States. 

Jack Kerouac’s classic book, On the Road (1957), details his travels with his friends as they drove across the United States. The book introduced many to the Beat Generation and, by doing so, became an influence on the counter-culture movement in the 60s.  Kerouac famously wrote the original manuscript on a long scroll so he wouldn’t have to pause to change paper. Jack often wrote in bursts of 100 words per minute. So, I guess from an efficiency perspective, that made some sense.

The first road trip book which made an impression on me was John Steinbeck’s, Travels with Charley in Search of America (1962). According to his publisher, in September of 1960 John Steinbeck, already a well-known author, set out to rediscover a country he worried he no longer understood. However, Steinbeck’s son said the real reason for his journey was that he knew he was dying, and he wanted to see the country one last time.

At this point in my life, I am happy Steinbeck was a bit older when he went on this adventure. It tells me road trips are not just for young guys.

Thinking of young guys, Ernesto "Che" Guevara’s Motorcycle Diaries (published posthumously in 1995) certainly made an impact on me. In 1952, Guevara and his friend, Alberto Granado, a biochemist and doctor, set off on a 1939 single-cylinder Norton motorcycle they called La Poderosa II (“The Mighty II). Eventually, they travelled through Argentina, Chile, Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Venezuela, and Panama before returning to Argentina.

At one point they introduced themselves as internationally renowned leprosy experts to a local newspaper. As a result, the publication wrote a favorable story about them. Guevara and Granado later used the press clipping to score meals and other favors with locals along the way.

I doubt Su and I will introduce ourselves as anything but ourselves. We also are not going to write a book about this experience on a scroll or otherwise! Still, we are going to begin a long road trip with our dog, Porsche, and will occasionally blog some of our thoughts.

So, why would two “youngish-older people” want to do something like this?

1. We become the products of the books we read. From the short list above, you can understand the idea of a road trip has a firm place in our imaginations. Like the Bible teaches, our thoughts often become reality. That is a good reason to discipline your thinking – well, at least better than I apparently did! One night I said to Su, “I think we should drive from the northernmost point of Maine to the southern most point of California.” And, well, here we are!
2. Our parents preprogrammed us to travel long distances in cars. Both of us went on the classic Minnesota to California road trip with our parents in the 60s. In my case this was in a car with NO AIR CONDITIONING! I think both of us would have enjoyed these familial experiences more if we had had some control over the radio dial. So, now we are compelled to drive on the road again listening to our music. For the record, we also plan on keeping the car a comfortable temperature.
3. Besides books, we listened to all the wrong music. In 1968 “America” was a special song on Simon and Garfunkel’s fourth album, Bookends. It is essentially a road-trip song, but like all road trips, it tends to reveal as much about the participants as it does about the land they travel through. The narrator and his companion Kathy (a reference to Simon’s 60’s girlfriend Kathy Chitty) board a bus in Pittsburgh after a four-day hitchhike trip from Saginaw, Michigan.   

   It begins on a positive note, but eventually Simon sings, "Kathy, I’m lost,’ I said, though I knew she was sleeping / ‘I’m empty and aching and I don’t know why." With that, the main character becomes just another wanderer travelling to fill the void in his soul.  Simon confirms this with the closing couplet: “Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike / They’ve all come to look for America.”

   In a day and age when the United States seems very different from the country we knew in our youth, I think both of us hope to find something that we once took for granted.
4. Road trips break the routine and move us (literally) out of our comfort zones. Su and I are purposely going to places we have not been to before or went to so long ago that we no longer remember them in any detail. These types of experiences allow us to re-envision where we are going in life and what we are going to do once we get there.
5. Related to number four, road trips seem to turn on the "introspective" part of our brains. We learn about ourselves: how we can improvise, how we react in different situations, how we appreciate beauty, and, in my case, how to respectfully converse with Su when I want to listen to classic southern rock, and she wants to drive for a while in silence. For those of you who need to know, "Ramblin' Man" by the Allman Brothers Band, is on my playlist.

Many years ago, we were introduced to Frederick Buechner by our friend, Bing Wall. Since then, the author has been a companion on our road trip of life. Buechner wrote, “Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.” (From Now and Then: A Memoir of Vocation)

That's it! Su and I hope to "touch, taste, smell," and drive  our way to the "holy and hidden heart." Ultimately, we want to listen to our lives, God, and each other as we begin this 10, 000-mile trip.