On The Road

Thoughts from behind the wheel of a two ton truck

I’m driving a 15 foot U-haul truck for the third day in a row and it’s stuffed to the brim with all our earthly possessions. The rattling cabin requires noise canceling headphones to maintain sanity. It’s intense driving, maxing out around 70 miles per hour and requiring my full attention. There is no cruise control. There are no blind spot indicators. It’s just me, this beast and the road ahead.

I think we’re far past Kerouac’s beatnik days of The American Road Trip. Instead of tearing across the country with a sense of adventure and freedom, I feel timid, guilty even, piloting this gas-guzzling truck. I’m watching the fuel gauge of this forty gallon tank tick towards empty in real time. The realities of climate change have robbed our generation of so much, including that old attitude.

This section of southern Indiana is a miserable scene really. Two potholed lanes are clogged with eighteen wheelers slowly passing one other. The gas station we stop at for lunch doesn’t have free water on their soda machine. My options are to buy some or to brave the water from the bathroom sink. I opt for a red bull. My father-in-law risks it. We make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the hood of the car.

Despite this saccharine stop, and days immersed in the American excess of fossil fuels and corn syrup, I am grinning. I am content. We are on the move to a new house and a new life in New Hampshire. 

Driving this truck is a feat of endurance, but it’s also a delightfully simple existence. Quite literally, our past is behind us and our future lies ahead. Focused on the speedometer and blasting my music, all the rest falls away. We have closed one chapter of life in Colorado and have yet to start writing this new one. I am suspended, floating between the two. It is deeply peaceful.

We have walkie talkies too. My childhood dreams come true as I chat with my wife on a walkie talkie, barrelling downhill somewhere in New York. “Hey Frosty. Let’s stop at this next exit for Chipotle. Over.”

We picked up my Mom for our last day of driving. This little caravan of five, including our dog, one car and one U-haul all pull into the driveway of our new home. My mother-in-law has filled the house with flowers and hand soap and a hand-drawn sign saying Welcome Home!

My contentment continues as we start to write this new chapter together.