A glimpse inside a modern American family road trip

The family road trip dates back to the period of American history known as the Westward Expansion. Those pioneers really had a lot of guts loading up their covered wagons, telling their kids to climb aboard and hitting the road.

For days and months on end, those brave souls pushed forward, not knowing where they were headed and not even exactly what they were looking for. All they had to go on were crudely drawn maps and personal aspirations. At some point surely a child looked up at their father, the courageous patriarch and said: “Are we there yet? I really have to go to the bathroom.”

To which the father lovingly looked down and replied: “I don’t expect you to make it. And you should have gone in St. Louis.”

   It was quite dangerous crossing the country back then and Bucc-ee’s hadn’t been established yet. Many a life and pair of pants were ruined on the treacherous journey. 

 Of course, in our modern times, anywhere in the country is easily accessible via automobile and taking the family on an annual trek, even multiple times a year if you’re a glutton for punishment, via the highway is a tradition. Though, it still requires a level of bravado. 

I am a survivor of a recent family road trip. We had a long weekend at Lookout Mountain and Chattanooga. The pioneers of old often kept journals chronicling their adventures, so here is an entry in my travelogue … 

We departed Sunday afternoon for the roughly four-hour drive. I no longer trust my beautiful 2011 Honda Pilot on the open road (Honda executives, your window to secure a sponsorship deal is thinning; please contact my management team before I’m forced to upgrade) so I borrowed my mother’s new car. It’s a tank of automobile with every imaginable luxury, making travel easier than I thought humanly possible. It really makes you feel like you own the road, and I drove as such; thus, we made excellent time. 

Soon the surroundings so familiar to us were gone, and Georgia’s coastal plain gave way to Atlanta’s sprawling urban landscape to foothills and then to the mountains. This splendor was lost on my passengers, faces down, eyes entranced by the blue glow of their devices, comfortably nestled into what I can only assume is Corinthian leather. 

“Y’all look at that skyscraper? See that mountain?” I said like the bumpkin I am from the helm of the tank. I was answered in small grunts of affirmation, the best possible reaction from a generation that’s always had the whole world at their fingertips. 

With so much entertainment, gone are the days of the pleading “Are we there yet?” from the backseat. You still get requests for bathroom breaks, but that’s only after the batteries are dead. 

Time at our destination was more pleasant, with the family enjoying all the attractions of the area distraction-free, only stopping for the occasional photo. It was a good couple of days, reconnecting without the daily grind. 

Pouring rain made the return trip a little more grueling, but the tank was the perfect armament for battling the flooded, in water and cars, downtown connector. 

Everyone survived, and we’re ready to go again.