I got a call this morning from my brother at 8:30am. Didn’t say hi, didn’t say good morning, Merry Christmas, nothing of the sort. All I got was:
“Old man River, he keeps on rollin’, he just keeps rollin’ on! Mark Twain!!!”
I knew immediately where he was - crossing the Mississippi River. I also knew that he was making incredibly good time.
But, Munch, (you ask), how did you know these things?
Let me tell you. A few years back, I lived in Mississippi. A friend was in from out of town, so we went to Vicksburg to do some gambling. On the trip back to Jackson, we took the wrong exit, and headed west over the Mississippi into Louisiana. The river at this point is extremely wide. We were giddy from a big night of winning, and we just started going nuts. I started yelling “Maaaaaaaark Twaaaaaaaaaain!” while Dan sang Old Man River, going both west and east over the river.
Since then, I’ve done the same thing each time I’ve crossed. Ever since I got a cell phone, I’ve called my brother whenever I cross. He has now picked up the tradition.
It’s weird, but it’s something I look forward to everytime I go home. Now I have to figure out if I have to do it on my flight this afternoon…
Okay. First of all, Airman HAS to stop at Stuckey’s. He gets positively monomaniacal until we stop. We mapped out a route that included not one, but TWO Stuckey’s, and of course, I have pictures of the signs.
The other is that we have to play the License Plate Game. This is where you try to spot as many different states as we can. The only rule we follow is that, in order for the plate to count, it can’t be in its home state. So, for example, if you’re driving through Indiana, you can’t count Indiana. If you’re driving through Illinois, you can count Indiana.
We were exhausted and, quite frankly, sick to death of the whole thing, and we were driving through Ohio when the following exchange took place.
Airman: Hey, Robin. Do we have Ohio?
Robin (crabbily): We’re in Ohio.
Airman: Just want to make sure.
Some time later, this became a huge joke, and it’s one we share to this day:
Do we have Ohio?
I don’t know, do we?
I could check.
Please do so.
It doesn’t matter who starts the joke. It’s just funny for us.
My son and I MUST stop for grilled cheese sandwiches and chocolate milk. We lived on it from Chicago to Denver many times when he was little. Also, although I wouldn’t do this now that he’s grown up, I used to tie him to my foot when we slept at rest areas. I was afraid he’d wander away.
I take a photo of the first road sign I see that bears the name of whatever city I’m heading to. I’ve got loads of photos of street signs that say, “Memphis” or “Des Moines” or “Atlanta” or “Kansas City” or “Charleston” (WV) or “Philadelphia” or “Birmingham” or “Orlando” and so on.
Also I wouldn’t dream of taking a road trip without Boswell’s Life of Johnson. I don’t read it, I just take it. It’s been all over the place.
When I take my annual Yosemite trip is to stop at the Ralphs Grocery in Sunland, CA. I take the 210 freeway and get off at the Sunland Blvd. offramp, go into Ralphs and buy TaB (miracle beverage that keeps me going like the Energizer Bunny) and then I drive over to the 5 freeway and go North. I guzzle TaB when the mood strikes.
Sometimes I’ll stop at Gorman (a small town about an hour N of Sunland) at the Carl’s Jr. (I think it’s Carl’s Jr.) and get fried zucchini, and then head on up the Grapevine (a notoriously difficult stretch of the 5 freeway).
I usually just barrell up the 5 to the 99, then to the 41 which takes me to Yosemite. But I always have to stop at the Texaco station in Coarsegold (a small tourist town about 20 minutes S. of the Southern entrance of Yosemite). Either going to or from Yosemite, I MUST get gas there. I always need gas by that time, because there isn’t much gas in Yosemite (and none in Yosemite Valley, where all the “action” is).
A trip to Yosemite is not complete if I do not get gas at the Texaco Station in Coarsegold. Oh, and I usually buy postcards in the little Texaco store too. And they have a decent bathroom, so I use the facilities.
My parents no longer drive to Florida, so most of the the family driving traditions have gone out the window. I’ve gone with them on their FL vacation the last couple years on the auto-train. We now have a new tradition. Going south, the train passes South of the Border (the ultimate tourist trap) around 1030-1100PM. We make sure we are in position to watch the lights. We also play lizard golf while in FL, but that’s another story…
My friend P. hasn’t taken a trip in two years, but we used to go to Vegas quite a bit.
For Vegas, we’d always pack Elvis tapes, among others. We also always had to:
check the thermometer in Baker
stop in Barstow for chow and gift shops
stop at the border to ride the coaster
stop in the Jean visitors center to look around
stop on the way back at Whiskey Pete’s for chow and one last bit of gaming
It took us quite a while to actually get to Vegas and back.
I don’t know why, but from the time I was a little kid, every single road trip that ANYONE in my family went on included a bag of apples in the car for snacks.
Now I can’t hit the road without a bag of apples in the car - usually the bag makes it nearly intact to my destination, too. It’s sometimes not until day 3 that I remember that the silly thing is IN the car - then I might have one or two.
When you’re cleaning out the car at the destination, there’s nothing wuite like the smell of warm and slightly overripe apples …
Copious amounts of Coke/Dr Pepper, and a bag of some odd, unconventional candy along with some chili cheese Fritos or Combos.
May I suggest that you do not drink 7 cans of soda and eat a bag and a half of beef jerky in the space of a few hours while on the road? I did this overnight on a trip to Milwaukee back in 2000 starting in southern Kansas, ending at about Des Moines. I was sick to my stomach all the way to Cedar Rapids, and I barely recovered when we hit the Mississippi.
Music from the 1970s always seems to go with road travel for me.
I live in OK. Used to live in CO. Parents still live in CO. I love to ski. So do my OK friends. So… I drive to CO alot. When going to CO, heading mostly NW, when coming back home, SE.
Well, one ski trip, 2 of my friends and I couldn’t leave when everyone else was, had to wait a day. We decided to leave real early that morning. I was driving and was wanting to try a non interstate shortcut I had thought about many times before.
So, I’m driving. We’re in the middle of nowhere. Friend JohnBoy in front seat wakes up and pulls down sun shade to shield his eyes from the bright rising sun.
Few miles go by. “Um, NoClueBoy?” queries JohnBoy.
“Yes?” say I.
“We’re going to CO, right?”
“Yipper!”
“From OK?”
“Well, duh!”
“And it’s morning, right?”
I look at radio, says 7:30ish. “Yep!”
Long pause.
JohnBoy: “Then why is the rising sun IN MY EYES?!?”
{{{Screeeeeech!}}}
I turn car around and head west. :smack:
Now, whenever we all go on our annual ski trip, everybody makes a point of facing me due west and saying: “Mountains THAT way!”
All road trips must have music for the ride. The first song that must be listened to is “Blister in the Sun” by Violent Femmes. Complete with the clapping bits.
At least one person in the car must be wearing cat ears.
If you run a yellow or red light, punch the roof of the car. It prevents the cops from pulling you over.
There must always be one designated navigator, whose responsibilities include missing at least one exit, shoving french fries up the driver’s nose, changing the music, and keeping those in the backseat pacified with crayons and coloring books.
There can never be too many crayons.
At least once, everyone in the car must sing “Aeroplane” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
There must be at least one bag of M&Ms in the car.
If someone has to use the potty on the trip, they must have to use it badly enough to clog the toilet.
Punchbug!
If, at any point, traffic is gridlocked and at a dead stop, there must be a Chinese fire drill. Unless you are next to a luxury car–then you can roll down the window and ask the driver if they have any cheap yellow mustard.
Take pictures of road signs. Just in case someone eats the map.
If you are eating jelly beans and you get a flavor that you don’t like, the driver has to stop so you can spit it out.
