I’ve been roadtripping for most of my life. Growing up, my family would drive from our home in New Hampshire to my relative’s house in northern Michigan, a twenty hour drive that we broke up into two days by spending a night in upstate New York. I remember these trips fondly; we made more McDonald’s stops then I could count, and my brother and I would listen to music in the backseat while making faces at other cars on the highway. Roadtripping was an opportunity for me to connect with my siblings while feasting on all of the milkshakes I could possibly ask for.
These memories have stuck with me over a decade later, and they have undoubtedly shaped my love for road trips today. From New Mexico and Kansas to Missouri and Minnesota, I’ve always loved the excitement of driving along a new highway and navigating cities that are totally foreign to me. Roadtripping has taught me a lot about myself, and it’s given me useful knowledge that’s helped me a lot even when I’m not on the road.
Sometimes, the outrageously expensive option is worth it
While driving through New Mexico, my friend and I passed by a lonely gas station with extraordinarily expensive gas. We still had over a quarter a tank of gas, so naturally we decided to wait until we found something cheaper. Makes sense, right?
Nope.
Not only were we traveling in a 1990s minivan with (obviously) horrible gas mileage, but we were also driving along a dirt road with nothing but fields and cacti surrounding us. And on top of that, we had no service. Little did we know that that gas station was the last one for over 50 miles. We were lucky enough to come across a restaurant in Las Piedras where an older man in a cowboy hat named Gil sold gas to foolish roadtrippers like us for $7.00/gallon. We bought a few gallons from Gil that carried us to the next gas station which was, as my friend and I had hoped, much cheaper than the first. But I can’t exactly say that the terror of running low on gas was worth it; we now have a rule that we always stop for gas if we are below half a tank and don’t see anything else nearby.
When in doubt, spend the extra money. Splurge a little bit; maybe buy a coffee if the drive is getting extra boring. I promise you, it’s worth it.
Less is more
When I was preparing to move to Minnesota this past August, I was getting a bit too ambitious with my packing. I had everything sorted in one massive pile in the middle of my room: All of my fall and winter clothes, my record collection, toiletries, six pairs of shoes, a bin full of books, and room decor. And as I tried to pack these all into my tiny Toyota Corolla, which was already weighed down by my winter tires that were shoved in the trunk, I quickly came to realize that I was going to have to work with half of what I had planned on bringing. This meant leaving behind many things that I had convinced myself I needed: a couple of sweaters, a pair of shoes, that extra bottle of face wash, some records, and a few of my favorite books. I missed them at first, but now that I’m settled into my new apartment it feels liberating to have fewer things. I still have exactly what I need, but I don’t feel like I’m constantly surrounded by the same clutter that collects in my room at St. Mike’s. This has been an extraordinary point of growth for me. Since I don’t have much extra stuff, I’m learning to appreciate the things I do have, from my homemade mug to my favorite face lotion, for what they bring to my life every day.
Most things in life probably won’t go as planned, and that’s okay
When I road tripped to St. Louis one summer, I had a pretty tight schedule from the get go. The trip was going to take me 18 hours, so I woke up at 3am the day I was leaving in hopes of getting there by 11pm. The thought of spending any more time driving at night was painful, so I was trying my hardest to stay on as tight of a schedule as possible with minimal bathroom stops and one food stop at most.
This plan went down the drain pretty quickly. The person I was driving with was making pee stops every hour, and we both had major Taco Bell cravings that set us back by at least an hour. Better yet, the summer construction on major highways was an absolute nightmare. It seemed as though the entire state of Ohio had shut down its highways, and we spent hours in single-lane traffic through construction zones in Indiana. An arrival time of 11pm became midnight, then 1am, then 2am, then 3am… and much to our dismay we did not arrive in St. Louis until 4am, which put us on the road for almost 24 hours.
The traveling was exhausting, and watching Google Maps slowly set our arrival time back by hours was more frustrating than words can say. But we made the most out of the extra car time; we found some fantastic new podcasts, we had a Taco Bell picnic, and we got free coffee from a McDonald’s in Indiana at midnight. In order to make it through the drive, we both had to let go of the rigid schedule we had set out for ourselves and to make the most out of reality.
I try to remember this moment whenever I’m feeling overwhelmed, and remind myself that there is no planning what the world is going to throw at me on any given day. As much as I want to plan out my career after college and figure out where I should settle down, I’m never going to know for sure what’s coming my way. The most that I can do is take a few breaths and try to enjoy the ride.