Road Trip!

Road travel is my preferred method of getting somewhere. Oh sure, air travel is quick and efficient, but I sincerely dislike crowded airports and their constantly increasing, yet fruitless, attempts to be more secure. Then flying through the air six miles above the ground in a metal tube with 200 strangers and their germs is never my idea of a good time. Don't even get me started on the airlines. If I had an arch-enemy, it would be them. I hate depending on them and having to pay their exorbitant fares just to see my loved ones across the country.

Those are all hassles, but the worst thing about air travel is the feeling that you haven't really traveled at all. Maybe it's my upbringing. We'd go on family vacations to Florida or North Carolina in our VW camper, and it would take two days to get there.

This isn't ours, but it looks a lot like it, right down to the color. My father is convinced our family excursions in our camper when I was younger are what draws me to Airstreaming now. He may be on to something.

When your parents are teachers, summer vacations don't need to be rushed. We didn't mind the long trips. My brother slept the whole way, and I looked out the window and at our road atlas. We all listened to Dad's music on cassette tapes and ate snacks. Mom's turn to drive would come, and the thunderstorms or construction traffic would appear out of nowhere. Okay, maybe that last part wasn't so great. The point is, it really felt like we went somewhere because it took us so long to get there. 

I hadn't flown in an airplane until I was sixteen and went to Disney World with my high school marching band. We arrived in Orlando from Pittsburgh after about three hours, and as I walked around the theme park I remember repeatedly thinking I couldn't possibly be in Florida after a three-hour ride. It was surreal. Worse, I saw nothing but clouds on the way there, so it felt like I had missed everything in between. Because I had.

I enjoy being on the road. I still like looking out the window, reading the signs, and following our movement from city to city on a map. I think it's just one more example of how I was born in the wrong time period.