Lessons from the Road

Please don't do this.

We are within three hours of our destination, Nini Dair’s condo in Chicago. This is our sixth day on the road, although we took one extra day in Colorado to visit with cousins, so five days driving. Road trips are worth the hassle only if you stop to take in some sights/sites along the way and allow your mind to process the experiences. Does any other country in the world offer such a treasure trove of experiences outstanding and kitschy? Last week I proposed that anyone running for public office be required to pass kindergarten. I now add completing a road trip.&

Arizona>Utah>Colorado>Wyoming>Nebraska>South Dakota>Iowa>Nebraska>Iowa>Illinois

We passed through a couple of favorites—Moab UT and Denver with its awful traffic before landing in Fort Collins CO for a much-needed break with cousins Susan and Pat, allowing Mike time to play handyperson, to be politically correct. We checked off Crazy Horse Memorial (highly recommended), Mt. Rushmore (recommended) in the Black Hills (highly recommended), Badlands National Park (highly recommended—much of it looks like a fake movie set), and Wall Drug (must see just because it is so American). If taking kids to Wall Drug, take plenty of money.

There was one more site in South Dakota: The Corn Palace in Mitchell. Yes, it is kitschy but also remarkable in its annual reconstruction of the murals, definitely worth a stop before the long drive across the windy plains toward Iowa. Once in Iowa, still windy, I have a sense of the familiar if not of home despite living more than forty years in this Illinois-Iowa region. The drive is long, challenging our endurance for podcasts. Internet access is spotty and radio fuzzy. At least twice a day I make a mental note to download more songs, notes which will disappear as soon as we turn off the engine. Priceline leads me to hotels the day of. I search for customer ratings of 8 or above. Star rating is irrelevant. My only disappointment has been that kids dominate the pools. But rooms are clean, beds are comfortable, and staff helpful.

In Iowa, the land varies between flat fields of corn and soybeans, rolling hills of corn and soybeans, or breath-taking beauty of river valleys. In the distance, red or white barns affirm the endurance of farming, appearing cozy from the distance. On this trip we stopped in Amana, IA. I haven’t been there for 50 years. The Ox Yoke Inn has added local beer and wine and a gift shop. Meals are served family style or plated for individuals. The Black Forest schnitzel served with mashed potatoes, well-cooked green beans, spaetzle, and mushroom gravy was uncomfortably filling. I boxed some of it anticipating the treat to come down the road.  

Another stop Mike dubbed “the Wall Drug of Iowa”: the I80 Iowa Truck Stop in Walcott IA, requiring lots of money if you bring kids or my cousin Joyce. Shortly, we cross the bridge spanning the Mississippi, a real river unlike the dry beds of Arizona.

And then the reason I didn’t finish lunch. Any trip through the Quad Cities demands a stop at Whitey’s Ice Cream for a specialty shake or malt. Mike always chooses root beer malt; mine is a Butterfinger shake, this time chocolate. We drive through our childhood neighborhoods back to the highway. I experience the tension that haunts me when I am in Moline. As if I will be stuck there forever. But soon we are on the highway running parallel to The Road to Perdition. More flat land, more corn and soybeans, more farms but also more trees.

I love road trips. Flying allows one to marvel at the vastness of this country, at the variety of geography. Driving immerses you in the biology and botany and humanity. Like visiting the Grand Canyon, astounding from above, you must take a path at least part way down to get a feel for the magnitude of the canyon and the insignificance of one human. Viewing the Missouri and Mississippi and Rock Rivers from above is inspirational. Standing on their banks, a warm breeze inadequate to dry the humidity-induced sweat on your skin, the smell of water and mud, the sound of ripples and barges, cocoons you in the creation.

Abiding by my pledge to eat only at local places, we discover unique food both surprisingly good and inexcusably bad, but it often comes with a story. Future leaders should experience the likes of Big Red, a cultural phenomenon and culinary disaster, as well as the dive bar in the middle of Tennessee* featuring quality food from scratch and streaming HGTV and the History Channel at the bar. And yes, the truckers were watching.

I realize I am ready to stay in one place for a while when I itch to play some music to focus my soul and write to process all that I have seen and experienced. Instead of distracting Mike the driver with my harmonica, I write this in the car, now two hours from our destination. We played the downloaded podcasts and music this morning. I studied Italian and sent messages. The last two hours of a trip are endless. But tomorrow, I will be sorry it is over.

And here we are. I sit in a favorite coffee shop in Chicago, La Colombe, procrastinating the laundry and packing for my next adventure—a girl’s trip to Minneapolis and Columbus OH. I will take my computer and my harmonica.

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&To be clear: future public servants should complete that road trip by car with no politicking. This land is a marvel in geography unappreciated from a distance. The country’s history is courageous and tragic; the stories of perseverance and decimation should be recited and imprinted. Listen to the native descendants at Crazy Horse, the enslaved in Charleston, the pioneers seeking new lives. Then pray for forgiveness and humility and a generous spirit.

*Regrettably I don’t have access to my notes for these not-to-miss points of interest.