There’s an art to road tripping. Or maybe, it’s just something special that happens along the road trip. A zone we’ll call it. In Africa, the zone is hit fairly often and pretty easily. Because, in Africa, the cities and towns are so spread out that you often find yourself alone. You, the car, your road trip mates all cruising along the pavement. Not much is said, music is usually playing on the radio, and everyone is lost in thought as they take in the scenery. On our road trip across the US, the majority of which was along 10W, this didn’t happen as often as I thought it would. It seemed that civilization was ever present.
There was one exception –Texas – more specifically, the drive along 10W from San Antonio to El Paso. This part of the drive was my favorite. We are talking about desolation. The eye can see to the north, to the south, to the west and to the east (in the rear view mirror) almost forever. The terrain is sparse and majestic. Along the road, you’ll pass through outcroppings of rocks that have been deformed over the ages, and towns are few and far between. It was the closest we got to an African road trip along the 4,000-mile journey and I loved it.
The weather couldn’t have been more perfect. Seventy degrees, sunny, a light breeze, and a few clouds here and there.
The speed limit varied between 75 and 80MPH. The great state of Texas had no intentions of getting in the way of this drive.
Gorgeous desolation.
If I had adopted this part of the 10, I would have named it “Desolation Way.”
There was even a point where we were so lost in the hypnotic road, or really, lost in our own thoughts, that we lost track of how much gas we had left in the tank. I wasn’t as nervous as Halearious was at first, but she was driving. I knew that when the gaslight comes on it means we have 2 gallons of gas left in the tank, which in normal circumstances would mean forty-plus miles left of driving capable. However, in this case, with the car packed to the brim and the bike on the bike rack attached to the trunk we were heavier than normal and our aerodynamics were affected. We were only getting fifteen miles to the gallon. I told Halearious that we’d have thirty or so miles to find a station. We’d be fine. I was sure of it. This road trip was blessed. The tarot card reader told us as much.
Ten miles. No gas station.
Twenty miles. No gas station.
Twenty-five miles. No gas station.
As the captain of the ship, I pretended like I wasn’t nervous. Got to keep up the morale.
Halearious was panicked. Nervously making jokes about how we were going to end up on the television show, “I Shouldn’t Be Alive,” – one of her favorites. With each passing mile, I was getting nervous. Thinking to myself, “Halearious has AAA, right?”
Twenty-six miles.
Twenty-seven miles.
A sign - Chevron station at exit 264. We’re a few miles away.
Twenty-eight miles.
Twenty-nine miles.
The gas level meter now pressed firmly against the pin. We’re close to running out.
Thirty miles.
Finally, exit 264, we pull into the gas station. I fill it up. I have a fourteen-gallon tank in my car. The total gas needed to fill the tank was 13.89 gallons, meaning we had 0.11 in the tank. Officially, Halearious could say she had been on a road trip.
Road trips are meant to have close calls. You’re supposed to push the limit of what you’re comfortable doing – literally. How long can you drive? How long can you sit cramped in a car? How fast can you drive? Where are you going to put the drugs when you cross the border into another country? Just kidding, but it’s a road trip. Live on the edge. Force yourself to grow. That’s what road trips are for. They’ll take you to places you’ve never been before, both literally and figuratively, and physically and mentally.
Road trips are more about the journey than the destination. Who cares about getting to Los Angeles? What matters is what you did and what you saw along the way. Road trips are just like life – it’s what happens along the way that will affect you the most and make you who you are. Keep your eyes on the destination and do what you have to do to get there, but remember and cherish as much of the journey as you can as you travel.
Rock on you crazy kids.
-Groundswell
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