Road Trip

My husband and I are no strangers to long drives. We drove three days on and off to reach Michigan from Arizona, then drove about fourteen hours to reach Massachusetts, then drove from Massachusetts to Michigan and back, and then loaded up our trusty car and drove to Michigan again earlier this month. And those are just the drives we've made together since our engagement a little over a year ago.

We're heading back to Massachusetts to pick up the rest of our worldly belongings and hug my mom one last time, driving back to Michigan from there, and then gritting our teeth for another drive from Michigan to Arizona. All told, I've spent a lot of time on Pokémon Go! hatching eggs and frantically trying to catch the Poliwag that we just drove past.

I've learned a number of things. Some of them seem rather basic, but they can make all the difference on your own long ride.

Lesson #1: Discuss the music beforehand.

Music is a necessity on our road trips. My husband and I like to sing along (or scream along, depending on the song) to give us something to focus on after all the deep and meaningful discussions have been exhausted. I enjoy having someone to sing with. It builds a sense of camaraderie that few other things do.

But music can be a contentious issue. Does he like folk rock and symphonic metal? Does she like death metal and punk cabaret? In our case we share a distinct overlap in taste in music, but we do have a few areas outside of each other's comfort zone. It works for us to have a standing agreement to share the aux cord every couple of songs.

It also works for us to not criticize each other's music while the other person is enjoying it. I was once in a six-hour ride once with a group of people I no longer speak with, and they spent the entire time I was playing music ripping into each song's flaws. I'm not saying that criticism doesn't have its place. I'm saying that, unless your goal is to start a fight, that place isn't a tiny car hurtling down the highway in the hot summer sunlight while everyone is cramped in the back seat.

If someone in your car is sensitive to sound, you need to be respectful of that person's limits. In our case that person is me: I can't tolerate anything beyond a certain level of noise after a while. So I need to monitor myself and speak up when I feel myself reaching that point, and our music is necessarily dotted with stretches of silence.

Lesson #2: Pack a cooler of snacks and drinks.

You're going to get hungry. You're going to get thirsty. Whoever designed these roads was personally invested in seeing you suffer, and put the nearest rest stop as far away as they possibly could. Beat them at their own game and bring a cooler with you.

Lesson #3: Make proper offerings to the spirits of the land as you pass through.

Don't give them crushed chips and cheap wine and other nonsense. Do it right.

Lesson #4: Stop often to stretch. Make sure you're rested.

Find a rest stop and brush your teeth, wash your face, walk around a little, maybe take a short nap if you feel so inclined. Be sure to bring blankets. Jack and I always have at least one for me, because wrapping myself in a blanket is a good way for me to block out outside stimulation and de-stress. I recommend them to people without my personal difficulties, because, well, they're cozy.

I was reading a book aloud to Jack while we drove to Michigan one time, and I took a nap at a rest stop. While I was asleep, Jack looked everywhere for, as he later told me, "the audio book we were playing." He was so tired from driving that he had forgotten that I was the audio book in question.

Being stiff and tired comes with the road trip territory, and it can make for unpleasant company. This brings me to the next lesson:

Lesson #5: Pick your conversation wisely.

Consider: what conversation don't you want to have with someone you'll be trapped with for fourteen hours? Religion? Politics? Favorite pokémon? It's different, I suppose, if you know the person well enough to have a rapport that can support those conversations: I well imagine that my husband and I talk about different things than you and that hitchhiker you picked up a mile back who may or may not be a ghost.

Lesson #6: Watch out for hitchhiking ghosts.

They don't chip in for gas and probably favor Gastly over Poliwag, and you don't need that kind of negativity in your life.

#roadtrip