“Where are you from?”
“I’m from Perris,” he said.
“Sweet, do you speak french?”
“Oui, je parle français, et vous?”
“Oui!”
You are a 20-something-year-old alone on a roadtrip up the western coast of the United States. You’ve started in the bay area and made your way down south to San Diego. There, you turned around and started making your way back up north towards Vancouver. You’ve passed LA, Santa Barbara…
Getting hit by an 40 ton semi-truck hurts; in fact, you feel like you’re going to die, like at any moment your body is going to give up on you, and you’re going to fall to the ground doubled over in a burning, aching, queasiness. Most of you have probably experienced this in…
Up until this point, I thought San Diego was Lego Land. Like, literally, I had no idea what was down there. In fact, before this trip…
I could probably name almost every post “On the road again,” but this particular departure is significant merely because I am beginning my trek north from San Diego — the southern most destination. This coastline is the reason I decided to take this trip, and it’s something of a right of passage…
Six years ago, in 8th grade, our class took a road trip to Ashland, Oregon. We had finished reading Macbeth, which in retrospect was entirely ridiculous. Though I can’t help but believe that overly complicated and incomprehensible literature was a factor in…
This is a roadtrip.
I’ve gotten more tickets on this trip than I have in my entire life prior, and speeding tickets are almost certainly the worst. Fortunately, the police officer was nice…
I had a lot of expectations about what would happen today.
Usually, when one has expectations, we talk about whether they were met or not, but I’m not interested in that because I make it a point to have only factual expectations for things. That…
Of course, the phrase isn’t used in the way that I’m using it, and it was probably a poor stylistic choice to do so because it’s deeper than mere geographic distance, but I’m just a college student and I’m writing for free for Medium — fight me.
As we drove into the driveway of Will’s house in New Hampshire, the thoughts and memories of the last 3 weeks ran through my head. This was the last stop of my cross country trip, and soon I would be back home in the bay. “There’s no way this is over,” I thought; I felt deep shock, as if I had…
