I grew up in what I would call a "road trip" family. There were times, sure, when we would travel to specific destinations by plane, like the trip I took in 1996 to visit New York City with my mother, or a visit to London after 7th grade (which, admittedly, would be a difficult drive from the US). Still, every summer it was normal for all 5 of us (mom, dad, two sisters, and me) to pile into the family suburban and drive from our home in Austin, Texas to the small town of Onekama, in northern Michigan.
My parents both grew up in Michigan before moving to Texas in 1975, and my mom spent every summer in Onekama, so they bought a house there and continued the tradition with the three of us. We'd spend most of the summer “up north” to avoid the Texan heat, and would take additional shorter trips to find the best beaches and visit relatives in the Upper Peninsula.
But summer wasn't the only time we saw the country through our car windows. One year, my parents had the unusual idea to fly north and circumnavigate Lake Superior squeezed a rented sedan. I was in elementary school, so most of what I remember about that trip was rock-hunting in the coldest water I've ever felt, and watching Major League 2 in french in our motel. Another time, we visited my mom's friend in Georgia and made sure to stop at the Babyland General Hospital to learn more about where our Cabbage Patch dolls were "born." Once, we drove from Vancouver down through the Pacific Northwest, stopping in Seattle, and making sure to drive past the house where Goonies was filmed in Astoria, Oregon.
All of this to say is that exploring, especially via road trip, is practically in my DNA. My mother was a lifelong traveler and my father still speaks in road maps, which is why even though I use my phone for GPS, I still often have an atlas or two on hand. If he calls me while I'm driving, he will start asking which highway I'm on, turning our talk into a conversation right out of SNL's the Californians.
This is why, about a decade ago when I experienced an impactful break-up and the end of a contracted job, I took to the road. I had a loose plan to visit some of the places my parents had shown me, to see some friends, and also the forge my own path. That trip took me to 28 states in 57 days. Since then, I've planned a few long trips each year: camping in my van on the way to New Orleans and back, hitting a wedding in Utah and Wisconsin's House on the Rock on my way home, and even "stopping by" a friend's baby shower in Boston between concerts in Philadelphia.
I've been a Michigan resident since 2009, and it feels good to be in the land where my parents became explorers themselves. My mom has been gone for almost 26 years, and I feel closer to her when I seek out hidden gems in the towns that raised her. I consult with my dad and show him pictures of things he hasn't had time to see since the 60s. It has been a pure and familiar joy to visit/revisit sites throughout my beautiful state and I can't wait to share what I've found!
