Road trips: You either love them or you hate them. I’m one of those kids that loves them . . . and good thing too because I just spent 20 hours of spring break in a car. Now, some people could go on and on about the freedom of the open road but frankly, when it comes to traversing America’s highways, there’s really one thing that stands out in my mind. The culture. Road trip culture.
Every road trip, or at least the ones that I’ve been on, has had the following characteristics:
Fast food. You aren’t a true “road tripper” until you’ve spent time in the back seat slurping down a Sonic Cherry Limeade. For all those New Englanders who don’t know what Sonic is (according to my Massachusetts friend, there are Sonic commercials in Massachusetts but very few Sonics), it is a drive-in restaurant with roller-skate clad waiters and occasionally old-timey music; they’re a big thing out west. If I remember correctly, my first Sonic experience was in a Jeep out in New Mexico.
Another fast food joint motorists can’t ignore is Cracker Barrel. At least in the Midwest, you can’t go 20 miles without seeing a sign for this place. So what is Cracker Barrel? Cracker Barrel is a family style restaurant with a Southern flare. The lighting is always a searing yellow and the wood paneling makes you feel like you’re in a barrel . . . or a general store . . . I think you’re supposed to feel like you’re in general store.
Rest Stops. No, Sonic and Cracker Barrel don’t count. I’m talking about the roadside businesses that are some combination of gas station, bathroom, convenience store and/or food court. In Illinois these rest stops have a name: “Oasis.” I guess you get to call it that when your highway is surrounded by nothing but grass, grass and more grass. Anyway, there’s always an interesting character or two at these rest stops – the family with the funny accent, the truckers with the Levi jackets, the bus full of Canadian tourists. You usually run into these people when you’re in line for the bathroom or unwrapping your McDonald’s snack wrap.
Road tripping attire. Let’s be real. You’re in the car for five, six, seven hours – I’m not entirely sure at what hour a road trip becomes a “road trip” and no longer “a drive.” Anyway, you’re in the car for a long time so it’s understandable that you want to be comfortable – sweatpants paired with sweatshirts are acceptable. However, what I don’t get are the people who come into the “Oasis” with their hair disheveled and spots of dried drool on their sleeve. In Meaghan Kilroy world, pulling up to a rest stop is a cause for alarm; it means I finally have to shake the crumbs from the lap and redo my flattened ponytail.
Music. You’ve got to have it. The whole karaoke thing I can do without, but road tripping music is a must. The ideal song? The Proclaimer’s “500 Miles.” Yes, this selection has everything to do with “How I Met Your Mother’s” Ted and Marshall Fiero fiasco. Let’s just say that the pair’s stereo broke and was stuck on one song – “500 Miles.” Even though they weren’t driving 500 miles, this scene felt equally as long. In all honesty though, something about this song reeks “I’m cruising down the highway with the top down and my girl (or guy) by my side.”
“World’s Largest . . ..” You know you’ve seen them . . . the world’s largest something or other conveniently located right along the highway – that or a sign indicating where you can find the largest (blank). Those signs go something like this: “The world’s largest ball of twine. 5 miles.” Hey, at least it’s something other than grass.
By far the best “overlooks” are the ones where you to guess what makes that spot “scenic.” Oh, that expanse of grass over there? I can’t wait to get a closer look.
When it comes down to it, road trips have their staples – fast food, truckers, sweatpants, etc. It’s hard to be in a car for more than a few hours and not run into any one of those things.
Like I said, I’m a long car rides kind of kid. I’ve never really had a bad road trip experience. Then again, I’m rarely ever the one driving. Things probably look a lot different from the captain’s seat. Which reminds me, it’s surprising that I even know what the road trip staples are. I’m usually zonked out in the back with my head plastered against the headrest – not always, but a good deal of the time, yes.
That’s okay, though. Somehow, I always manage to regain consciousness just as we’re about to pass the world’s largest ball of twine. If you don’t call that winning, I don’t know what is.
Meaghan Kilroy is a sophomore in the College of Communication and a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. She can be reached at kilroymeg@hotmail.com.
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