This is a bit unusual, but why not? Here’s my love letter to the road trip.
The stress and anxiety of gathering. Second-guessing. Relinquishing routine and comfort.
The long drive. Sweat on the back and stiffness of the spine and interstate gas stations and pissing on gravel with open doors in raw and white daylight.
The non-reservable campsite. Will it be there?
The thrill of the first day and naïve pacing.
Sore skin and muscles and the hustle of solar showers and dinner preparation.
Still air and low wine-colored light fanning out across shrubs and pinon and steep-walled drainages.
Forgetting of time and the world outside and a realization that the wind still blows and the sun still rises and sets again and the world is calm.
The relaxation of cleanliness standards.
A new routine forms.
The morning walk in the eastern sun and stiff limbs swinging side to side.
Rest days and the return of the outside world. Tanned and dirty and pushing large grocery carts or pecking on laptop keyboards in libraries.
The deep and profound appreciation of water.
Sound and restful sleep otherwise unfamiliar.
Peace and tranquility of weekdays.
The weekend. Incessant sounds of rubber tires crunching on gravel and voices and crowds and then silence again.
The rhythm of the body adjusting to new demands.
The smiles and kind words and encouragement from strangers.
The beta. So much beta.
Back to life hopefully changed.