As the fall leaves make their path to the sidewalks of Philadelphia I am finding myself yearning for the free feeling of the gentle ride across America’s highways and byways. In the stead of running off on an impulsive journey across our great land I will make an attempt at entertaining you with a quick essay about being on the road. So let’s shake that dust of your road atlas, speculate whether there is something worth seeing in Kearney and take a trip.

I will start with a bit of family history. When our family first settled it was in Casper Wyoming after a bit of traveling while my pops looked for a job and did some post grad work which I don’t really remember much of, but I am hoping to convince my parents to write some guest posts in the future and perhaps this story will be one. So we settled in Casper, its kind of isolated up there in southeastern Wyo, with the grandparents living in Albuquerque N.M. and Las Vegas NV. Quite often we would pack up the old dodge van in pre dawn light and drive for hours across the high plains of western America. Intermitted with various trips taking my brother to swim meets in places like Rapid City, Bozeman, DuBois and Sheridan, and whilst in transit to such towns one must not pass by places like Little Bighorn, Rushmore, Shoshoni or Devil’s Tower, always good to grab a milkshake or spend the night in local campground. The pinnacle of our American road journeys would be in the summer of 77 after living in Saudi Arabia for three years and Gallup N.M. for about nine months. While I was at summer camp my parents bought a red 72 Chevy pickup with a camper shell, picked me up at camp and the family drove to Alaska. We met the Sells, our old neighbors while living in Saudi, in Seattle and caravanned north, the Sells in a VW campervan and us in the pickup. I guess that being part of a nomadic family one makes friends with the other nomads along the way, one of the best aspects of all these trips was stopping at so and so’s house getting treated to a nice meal and camping out on someone’s floor.

I’ll take a break here to apologize and some gratuitous self-realization. Apologies for wandering so far away from how I intended to write this essay and waxing on about my childhood. As I got lost in writing it becomes so clear to me that 30 years later these experiences are so relevant to my being in the world. No wonder my body yearns for the feel of the road under wheels.

Now that my touching little moment is out of the way, lets get to some details about taking a trip. Whatever the condition of your vehicle take a moment, I know I tend to personalize my vehicles a bit but this four wheeled friend is gonna be your home for a few miles, take a moment to pay some attention to your vehicle give him/her some loving care. Lift the hood and look around maybe a quart of oil, do you have a spare tire, jack, lug wrench and do you know whether the hardware is metric or English? Depending on the quality or trust level of your relationship you might want to invest in a set of tools, and of course a good chunk of bailing wire is essential.

What are your needs? Food, music, clothes and of course a map, you can always pick up things on the way, but if your anything like me once you get rolling stopping for essentials becomes an irritation. Believe it or not packing is something I hate because it requires decision and commitment. Be aware in a worst-case scenario you may be stuck carrying everything you pack or just abandoning your possessions. Take some time to think about your essentials I usually start thinking two to three weeks in advance, then again I think much to much. Lets go already, damn.

Ah-ite we are rolling, hopefully your sitting next to a best friend or lover though nothing wrong with rolling alone, its what I prefer, but make sure your cohort is someone you can get along with because many relationships have been broken on the road. Yes, whomever your sitting next to has chosen to enter this relationship with you and as with all relationships at this point we should set down some guidelines, boundaries perhaps shall we say, rules of the road. Here I will stray to a sidebar, at this point a lot of people, of a certain ilk, might just say, “Oh we should just let our relationship develop organically, you know take it as it comes.” Bullshit! Just like a well-behaved dog is well behaved because it knows its place in the world and what is expected of it, people are no different and as long as both know what to expect of each other we will get along just fine and our trip will be smooth as silk. Not that I’m getting all military here but some loose expectations are always needed. The driver drives, passenger is tasked as navigator and DJ, while all decisions are up for negotiations It is good form as the navigator to have an idea of what direction your headed and kind of where you are on the map, perhaps this requires a compass and I will relent to an I phone or GPS if you’re really that challenged. Anyhow, just saying either running low on gas in the middle of South Dakota or looking for that big ball of string in Nebraska its good for someone to have an idea of direction.

The next rule exists because it was an unwritten law of John O’brien, I only know I broke it because of a disapproving look and shake of the head delivered from Kurt Wunder, John was a master of the road trip and as he passed a few years ago this rule serves as a memorial to the man. The team has reached a decision and we’ve chosen that seedy diner or side of the road truck stop to get some chow. A charming waitress in a pink dress or one missing a tooth or both, menus, table or counter, water, at this point or any preceding it, do not I repeat do not relieve yourself to the bathroom until you have ordered or asked someone to order for you even if it means missing a delightful perusal of the menu, one can usually decide by the look of a place what standard items are available.

That being said, stay tuned for some pics and a list of my favorite American roads.

Cheers