Sic Semper Tyrannis

Great Road Trips I Have Known-Episode II: The Temple of Doom

After my road trip with Steve, I decided that I wanted to try to do some traveling on my own. At that time in my life, there seemed to be so much of the world for me to see—approximately a whole continent, at the very least. So, a year or two after that, I planned to do some driving and go to New England. I had always wanted to see that part of the country, and as luck had it, my friend Elizabeth was going to Russian language school in Middlebury, Vermont and I had arranged to pick her up and drive back.

The idea of a few days on the road all by myself was both exciting and scary to me at the same time. On one hand was total freedom to do whatever I wanted to, whenever I wanted to, without having to entertain anyone. (That’s a big pressure for me, “is the person I’m with bored?”) On the other hand, I had never spent that much time alone in my whole life. I wasn’t sure that I wouldn’t go insane without someone around to distract me from my thoughts. I seriously thought that I might go nuts with that much time to myself.

What I forgot, though, was how much I like to drive long distances. City driving, I have no love for. But to spend hours in a car with my tunes, nothing but road in front of me, that’s really when I’m most at peace. Maybe it’s the whole “master-of-my-own-destiny”-kind of thing.

But the first night of that New England road trip didn’t go as expected. I made it to Indianapolis by the first night and unfortunately every motel in town was booked because of the Indy 500 or some other car race. So I continued down the highway in the middle of the night until, unable to keep my eyes open for very long, I just decided to pull into a hotel parking lot and sleep in the car, which was a unique experience. Have you ever woken up one morning, wondering where you were? Have you ever been in a car when that happened? Pretty odd.

I must admit, as I wound through those New England roads, ambling around in search of things to see and do, I got a little bit lonely. Construction signs saying “Be Careful. My Daddy Works Here,” and Jeff Buckley’s voice echoing around in my brain as I zigged and zagged around mountain roads on a cool Appalachian evening-for some reason, they failed to comfort me. And I found that the loneliness affected my ability to make decisions. “Should I stay here for the night, or keep driving?” “Ah, what does it matter? You won’t know anybody or have anything to do, no matter where you stop.” And my gut reaction when those doubts arose was to just keep moving.

Anyway, I wound up picking up Elizabeth a day early because of the listlessness and we headed for home. It’s funny, just having someone else breathing the same air, even if they are asleep, fights off the loneliness somehow.

I discovered the joy of Liz Phair’s whitechocolatespaceegg on that trip and I remember meeting a couple of bicycle-riding guys, a homosexual couple with JFK accents, on the ferry on the Vermont border. I also remember a rare display of teamwork between us in a downpour outside Schenectady, New York-- lost. The old Honda Accord had a bad tendency to fog up when it rained and using the defroster was like trying to translate Egyptian Hieroglyphics. As I drove, trying to act calm and like I knew where I was going, my traveling companion wiped the windshield with a towel.

That trip home was probably the longest amount of time I’ve ever spent with a girl who was not a girlfriend and overall, I remember Elizabeth being a good person to share large amounts of time trapped in a car. She knew when to talk and when not to talk. She didn’t mind sharing the driving duties. She didn’t even complain about having to go windows-down for most of the trip since the air conditioner wasn’t the best.

I look back on that trip fondly, although it seems sooo long ago.

posted by Mike @ 3:36 PM