The convertible top folds down and tucks away as the car backs out of the driveway. The wind instantly fills your hair, lifting every strand deliberately off your scalp. Your hand scoops the air in an unplanned rhythm. And you’re off to a destination separated only by land.
Circa 2002 when Britney Spears was at her peak and ventured into the acting arena with Crossroads there was no other way to imagine traveling.
Anyone who has hopped in the car and headed off before or after that wonderfully awful moment in cinematic history knows that experience is far from how road trips go. While it may not be the murder spree of Thelma and Louise, it’s often anything but glamorous.
Early this year, I had to journey from Arizona to the east side of Texas. Though the two states are separated only New Mexico, anyone who has ever driven through Texas knows it is one of the longest, most unpleasant stretches of land in the United States.
There are no mountain ranges to base your progression off of. The opportunities for a bathroom break become few and far between. The limited human encounters that occur are strained by thick accents and impatient small town distractions.
And despite hours-long playlists, there is no way to truly distract from the exhausting stretch of dirt and shrubbery.