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The Road Less Traveled

Getting There Can Still Be Half the Fun
by Chandler Perdue

Schmoozing in the Smokies
by Sandy Summers

Spell of A River Town
by Diana Moes VandeHoef

A Mystical Trip to Mexico
by Barbara Hilal

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The Road Less Traveled

Getting There Can Still Be Half the Fun
by Chandler Perdue

The lure of the open road is not what it used to be. Gone are the romantic days of Route 66, a new sight around every turn, and the freedom that comes from traveling with no safety net. These are new days, with eight lane superhighways, nationwide chain towns and the security of cell phones and in-car GPS systems. But that doesn't mean that being on the road isn't fun anymore. It means that travel is different, and in order to have new experiences, one must get off the beaten path.

The notion of a cross-country road trip stirs the heart of any red-blooded American. It is our way of life to believe that we might just drop everything and take off, to destinations far away and unknown. We have a big beautiful country, still full of wide open spaces. In contrast to almost every other westernized country, there is plenty of room to spread your wings and stretch your road legs. But if getting there is half the fun--if the destination is secondary to the journey--then why do our interstates feel more like lines at the DMV than the scenes from Thelma and Louise? There is no reason to get away for a vacation if the drive is as stressful as the morning commute.

In college I moved across the country in a compact pickup truck. Driving west for the first time alone, I did everything possible to make a quick trip. Seven hundred mile days, sleeping at RV parks beside the truck in a tent and eating at gas stations, I saw nothing and experienced less. By the time I hit Wyoming, I didn't know where I was. Every exit brought the same three gas choices and the choice of either McDonald's or Subway. It was neither a comfortable nor a pleasurable road trip.

When it was time to go back east, I took a different approach. Taking state highways and back roads instead of the interstate, it took over a week to do what had been done in just a few days before. Zipping down the interstate would have robbed me of the opportunity of getting my entire truck, packed with all my worldly possessions, searched by a Utah State Trooper just outside a reservation. It also would have prevented that hallucinogenic sunrise over the high desert of New Mexico, so brilliant peeling back the black night sky. The lights of the highway would have all but blocked out the stars. I would not have followed the Hale-Bopp comet across the sky in Oklahoma, ambling over the plains.

This modern age offers wonders of technology. Because of some of this technology we are safer in our vehicles than ever before. After living with a cell phone, it's hard to imagine not having one. I do think we lose something by having these things to fall back on. If you cannot get lost because of your in-car GPS program, or if you can never get away from life at home because of a cell phone's ability to always stay connected, then losing some of the adventure and some self reliance is a natural progression. And the open road ceases to be the adventure that it once was.

Back road travel gives you the chance to stop and buy fruit at roadside stands and eat it along the banks of the muddy Colorado River. An open agenda and flexible schedule lets us do things that are impossible to do at 90 miles an hour, like stay at the cheapest motel in Georgia, or see the world's largest ball of twine. There is a Wal-Mart, McDonald's and Starbucks in your town just like mine. Try local restaurants, stay in unusual motels, and above all, get off the interstate. The road offers many opportunities. Get out while you still can.