I took a road trip over fall break. Really, I did. With a dozen gallons of petrol in Sheryl, my voluptuous 2010 Hyundai Sonata, and the only two friends stupid enough to join me, I ventured west.
The overarching plan for this great voyage was simply to have no plan. Each day, we would determine a general goal, a place to end up. We didn’t know how we were to accomplish it; no itinerary was ever made. These objectives merely served as guiding indicators to ensure we didn’t end up somewhere like West Virginia, because, well…West Virginia.
In my eyes, the car is the ideal means of getting from one place to another. No other form of high speed transportation condones belting the entire Wicked soundtrack or warrants frequent visits to Bojangles. Sure, a plane or train will get you from point A to point B conveniently and efficiently, but an automobile lets you revel in the adventure. Cars provide us the freedom to gallivant around as captains of our own ships, turning an ordinarily mundane mean into the end itself. If we feel like suddenly changing course in search of untold treasurers or stories yet to unfold, we are at liberty to do so.
Day 1: Durham to Asheville
On the first day, about an hour into the drive, we pulled over in Mocksville, North Carolina. We made the naive mistake of eating at a Waffle House before we left Durham and had to take an early pit stop. While only in Mocksville for half an hour, we learned that Daniel Boone’s parents were buried in the town cemetery and that about a third of the Mocksville’s 5,051 residents work at the local Ashely Furniture manufacturing facility. The road goes on.
Next, we stopped in Hickory, North Carolina, where serendipitously enough, the annual Catawba County Oktoberfest Fair was underway. While walking down main street, we were confronted by essentially the complex conjugate of those aggressively liberal voter registration campaigners that lurch on the bridge outside the West Union; a small militia of high schoolers donning Trump hats and clasping clipboards. Further down the street, we even found an entire booth that sold exclusively second amendment paraphernalia. Truly, another world existed only two hours from Duke’s campus. We downed some fried Oreos and got the hell out of there. The road goes on.
Day 2: Asheville to Chattanooga
We set off pretty early in the morning for Chattanooga, Tennessee. The initial sojourn of the day took place in Murphy, North Carolina. A small town in the Smoky Mountains, Murphy is known mostly for Fields of the Wood, a biblical outdoor theme park that features thrilling attractions such as Ten Commandments Mountain and a 30-foot-tall bible. Later, 50 miles down the perilous mountain highway, we stopped on the side of the road at Cherokee National Forest and endeavored to hike the Riverview Loop. The trail head identification was incredibly misleading as there was neither a river nor a view and so, needless to say, we ended up very lost indeed. The road goes on.
Day 3: Chattanooga to Durham
We woke Tuesday morning about 447 miles away from Duke. Realizing that we had to eventually turn back, we spent the next ten hours weaving through Tennessee, Virginia,and North Carolina, on a curvy amorphous trail back home.
The road goes on.
I learned a lot on this outing. First, Sirius XM Radio has a Billy Joel Channel. Second, the populations of rural towns in the southeastern United States really, really don’t like Hillary Clinton. Third, peanut butter crackers stop tasting good after about 2.5 boxes. But there’s a catch.
Did you notice the conspicuous absence of a description of what transpired at each end point? That’s because our experiences in each city paled in comparison to the memories of random roadside gems. In this regard, a good road trip is like a good sandwich. You need the two slices of bread at the end, but everything in between is what makes it taste so good.
I believe the mentality holding us back from enjoying our sandwiches is best expressed by young Kevin Kingston in the 2005 family comedy “Are We There Yet?” when he so eloquently poses the inquiry “Are we there yet?” over and over again to Ice Cube’s character Nick Persons. This question is something we ask ourselves too much on the road and too much in our lives. “Are we there yet?” signifies that whatever we are doing presently has no bearing on our vision of success and happiness, and only when we reach our destination will we be satisfied.
It’s important to have goals. Goals provide us with direction and purpose. Achieving those goals provides us with a sense of accomplishment and self-assurance. But the pursuit of these milestones should not hinder day to day ability to enjoy the world around us. Instead of focusing all of our energy on reaching destinations on our road maps for success, let’s try taking the roundabout route to get there. Otherwise the scenery will all look the same. Try to enjoy even the most banal of experiences. It is when we set out in life without trying to reach any particular destination that we find the treasure of true joy in each moment.
On my fall break trip, it would have been easy enough to have just taken the highway to and from each destination. However, my friends and I consciously chose to create our own adventures by stopping on the side of the road often on a whim. We allowed ourselves the opportunity to be surprised and space to learn. And while we may strive to gain a greater understanding of the universe, to quote Ice Cube, “No, we’re not damn there yet!” So why not enjoy the trip?
Grant Besner is a Trinity Sophomore who one day aspires to operate his own alpaca farm. His column, “you said duty,” runs on alternate Tuesdays.
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