Roadtrips

Yesterday I talked about roads; today I’m writing about them again!

My daughter left this morning for a fall break roadtrip to spend the weekend with a friend who lives in a near-by state. Lisa is on ‘nins and peedles’ about her daughter travelling so far. I’d be lying, a bit, if I didn’t admit a little healthy trepidation as well.

On the other hand, this is a dear friend that Holly met during her recent Study Abroad experience in France. She is the one that Holly has stayed in touch with since they returned to the states in late July. She’s lives within a day’s driving distance. So, I think this weekend trip is a good thing.

I also remember roadtrips of my college days and I realize that, in some ways, this is kind of a rite of passage.

Holly is 20. When I was 20, I was taking roadtrips, too. I’d load up my ’66 Ford Mustang – the ‘stang as my pals called her - and off I’d go.

The ’66 Mustang was, on one hand, a classic car with lots of cache and panache. The mere mention of it would bring oohs and ahs to the all-knowing vehicle sages.

On the other hand, with no power steering, it was not an easy vehicle to handle. In the pre-air conditioning days, the only relief you got from the heat was the roll the windows down and let the air flow. Also, the seats were vinyl and not particularly plush. The high beam dimmer switch was a button in the floor you tapped forcefully with your foot. The radio, which was state of the art for the times, was outdated by the time I was taking the ‘stang.

So, while the car I’m describing was a ‘classic’ in the classic sense; it was also a classic in the ‘shabby chic’ sense.

In any case, it didn’t matter. I had wheels. They were my wheels and I loved them and I wouldn’tve traded driving ‘the stang for any other vehicle (even though the mother of one former girlfriend once mocked me for driving ‘that old car…’).

On roadtrip weekends, I’d throw my bag in the rear and off I’d go. I visited friends and family in Memphis on a number of occasions during my college years. The trip to Memphis is a pretty easy drive. I had made it hundreds of times and, really, how hard is it to go down Cedar Bluff Road, hang a right and stay on I-40 until you see the signs that say “Welcome to Memphis”?

I also made a number of roadtrips to see my friend Bill Cooke in South Carolina.

Bill had gone to Farragut High School and graduated a couple years behind me. We became close friends during our time at Farragut.

When he finished at FHS, he moved with his family to S.C. when his dad accepted a job there.

Columbia was close enough – 5 hours away - that it was definitely a drivable distance. But, the route took you eastward, through the mountains, so it was somewhat technically challenging.

I guess, in retrospect, it was a pretty good road test.

I visited Bill in Columbia (or “Cola” as it was sometimes abbreviated) a number of times. We enjoyed visits and sightseeing and I met a number of his Carolina pals. We enjoyed some great meals, too. Those were some fun times.

More importantly, the roadtrips to S.C. gave me a chance to stretch my horizons a little bit and, with each successful trip, my confidence continued to grow. I think that is the most valuable tool I acquired, looking back. I made the trip back and forth – through the mountains – and, therefore, I knew I could do it.

I hope Holly acquires the same skill and confidence from her trip this weekend. So, while I might have a bit of natural parental worry – as I’m sure my folks had a generation ago – I’m glad she’s taking the trip. And I’m hopeful the confidence and feeling of accomplishment she’ll receive, along with the fun of seeing her friend, will serve her well as she continues to grow and mature as a young adult.

JG  

Originally posted 10/11/2012