Riding Solo

One girl’s reflections from a road-trip across America. 

(one month later. Better late than never... Ha)

I graduated from Brigham Young University, packed up my apartment, said goodbye to all of my friends, and started the long trek east.  2,152 miles, thirty-four hours, nine states, 31 CDs, 15 bathroom breaks, around 6 tanks of gas, one whole bag of chocolate chips, and zero tickets later, I’m HOME.

When I pulled into my driveway that Friday night, I was a little delirious, sore, full of mountain dew, tired, anxious to see my family, excited to feel humidity, but mostly just victorious.  It felt pretty good to be home.  The first thing I said to my mom (after jumping around on the driveway in a huddle with my little sisters chanting “Success! Success! (she made it she made it she made it)),” was “I think I’m going to write a book.”  The more I thought about it (and after going to the bathroom and eating some real food), I realized that I really didn’t accomplish anything too exciting—I didn’t even drive across the whole country.  BUT I have decided that it is worth a lengthy blog post—so here you go. Lessons learned from a solo-drive across the United States:

1. When planning entertainment for three full days of solitary confinement, do not assume that your eight-year collection of CD’s will suffice.  Chances are, every single one of those CDs is scratched and only partially functional.  Except, of course, the one CD that does not belong to you (obviously, as seen by the title: “I love baseball allot”… yes.  Complete with spelling error.  Thank you, brother, for your artful mix of Usher, Eminem, Akon, and Smash Mouth.).  I lost my ipod charger a few days before the trip, my vast knowledge of SLC radio stations didn’t help once I left the Valley, and books on tape from the library were definitely not an option as I don’t plan on being back in Utah County for a long, long time—CDs were my only option, ok?
2. If you find yourself getting into a heated discussion, complete with hand motions and facial expressions, with yourself, it’s probably time to stop at a gas station and have some actual human interaction.
3. Sometimes your lower back gets super stiff and your bum feels flatter than paper and all you want to do is stretch—but if you choose to start doing intense pelvic thrusts to the beat of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the cars passing you are probably going to point and stare. And you will most likely be the topic of conversation at their dinner table later that evening…
4. If you normally get carsick when driving through the mountainous region of western Pennsylvania, why would you choose to add eating a whole bag of skittles and drinking a mountain dew to that already nauseous experience?  I am still asking myself that question…
5. If your tiny bladder tells you that it’s time to find a bathroom around the same time that the road signs are telling you that there is traffic ahead, you should listen to your bladder.  If you ignore your bladder, you will most likely be stuck in standstill traffic outside of Chicago, frantically searching in your car for something to pee on.  You might also find yourself breaking about 27 traffic laws as you weave through the stopped cars, drive along the unpaved shoulder towards the nearest exit, run a few red lights, and cut off oncoming traffic as you attempt to make it to the gas station before your car upholstery is ruined forever.
6. I saw my very first Delaware license plate about 33 hours into my 34 hour trip.  He looked less than enthused when I drove by him waving frantically and shouting “yeah Delaware!!” while giving him the thumbs-up.  I learned that some people just don’t get excited about state camaraderie…
7. Best road sign of the whole trip:  “Emergency Parking only. Time limited to 2 Hours”… sorry if your car is broken down or you are bleeding to death or having a baby or something—but you’re going to have to get moving because your emergency is exceeding our time limit…
8. Bribing yourself with delicious food is sometimes the only way to convince your body to drive an extra 150 miles before stopping.  Leftover café rio and deep-dish Chicago pizza have been known to work wonders on an otherwise complete loss of will.
9. Another incredible road sign:  “Now leaving blasting zone”… oh gee, thanks for telling me after I drove through it.  I would have never known why the cars around me were exploding…
10. Do not waste your precious windshield fluid on those gross bug guts all over your windshield.  Just wait until you stop for gas and squeegee them off.  Or wait until you drive through Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania—it will most likely be monsoon season and you will get 6 hours of free car wash when you drive past the gigantic wheels of eight-ton semi-trucks.
11. Spend some of your precious alone-time making up new and less profane replacement cuss-words for all of the people who continually cut you off or decide that since you are only going 80 mph, they should probably get in front of you. And then only go 79 mph.  Otherwise, you might find yourself thinking in pirate language.
12. Flirting with the parking attendant in downtown Chicago will most likely not get you free or even discounted parking.   But he might tell you that he wishes he could take you home with him… at which point you may wonder if leaving your car (packed full of all your worldly possessions) is such a good idea.
13. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is laugh.  Like when you find yourself at midnight, sitting on the wall at the closest Mcdonald’s, trying to steal their wifi, while wearing spandex and a pajama top and trying to keep massive moths from landing on you/flying down your shirt, all while concurrently watching multiple cop cars pulling up in front of your hotel. 
14. If you try to take a picture of said cop cars to text to your mom, you will get in trouble.  With the police.
15.  If you are a girl who likes talking more than almost anything in the world, you should probably not spend more than a few hours alone, let alone three days—or else you will tend to notice yourself trying to strike up a conversation with the nearest toll-booth operator, crossing guard, policeman, gas station patron, bathroom attendant, or random passersby at the service stations.  When none of these people will respond to your desperate attempts at conversation, you will most likely find yourself with a sore throat and hoarse voice at the end of your trip because you have resorted to talking to yourself. 

I learned a lot of other great lessons but I’m pretty sure you get the idea.  I have also learned that I am a lot of fun. At least I think so… which is probably a good thing.  Spending so much time alone has made me realize how important it is to be someone you want to love—after all, you are going to have to live with yourself forever.  Be yourself. Love yourself. 

And stay tuned for the exciting story of my trip to Chicago…