My husband and I have been on our share of road trips. When I moved to upstate New York for school, we moved my stuff back and forth from L.A. four times via my trusty Honda Accord. That’s right – four cross country trips, one seat belt violation in the middle-of-nowhere Texas, one speeding ticket in Wyoming, and countless roadkill sightings.
Today, being on the open road still holds a special place in my heart as I am hit with the nostalgia of our young relationship, crossing state lines, and the joy of watching my then-boyfriend snore in the passenger seat next to me.
I’m a total free spirit when we are on car trips. I’m like, “Who cares if we get a little lost? Let’s have an adventure!” My husband, the crazed man, is like, “Where’s the fourteenth page of my Google maps?! I put all of this in order before we left. Carly, why is my Road Trip Folder OUT OF ORDER?!?!”
Oops. My bad. Wait, we have a “Road Trip Folder”?
This difference in perspective, also leads me to discuss another difference of ours when it comes to driving.
When I am on the highway, I like to chill and sit in the slow (right hand) lane. I’ll admit it, I basically drive the speed limit. I’m not like scary geriatric slow, but still, according to my husband I am slooooow. So when he hops in the driver’s seat, he practically pushes me aside and we take off like a rocket.
What is it with men on car trips and trying to make record time? First of all, the speed limit is 70 mph, but according to my husband, we go 85 mph, because he has to “go with the flow of traffic”. This is especially true on California highways where everyone drives FAST. Secondly, I have to be on the verge of getting a bladder infection or dying of starvation for him to make a pit stop. If it weren’t for the threat of running out of gas, we might never stop. “Ummm, no sweetie, I can’t pee in a bottle. I think you better exit…NOW!”
This is all in the name of getting to our destination at record speed. My dad used to exhibit similar behavior on family car trips. He once sped down the winding California coastline so fast that he made everyone throw up. It wasn’t pretty.
I don’t get it. Is it a guy thing?
We don’t need to be anywhere at any specific time. Isn’t that what being on vacation is all about – relaxing and taking your time? Apparently not according to the men in my family.
On road trips, are you a go with the flow driver? Or are you trying to set a personal best?