The Almost Great American Road Trip

Last week, my husband and I set off with our adult children on a road trip from North Carolina to attend our niece's wedding in St. Louis. We took two cars but left at the same time, drove the same route, and tried to stay together. (I think the kids mainly stuck with us hoping we would pick up the tab for any meals.) We drove 750 miles northwest, not quite a third of the country's distance from east to west, but far enough. Twelve and a half hours in the car is plenty for one day.

There's nothing like loading up at the crack of dawn and joining the big rigs on the open road with nothing but rest areas, gas stations, and fast food on the day's agenda. The highways are seemingly infinite; we could have stayed on I-40 all the way to California. Our interstates serve as our country's circulatory system, pumping people and products from coast to coast. We can thank President Eisenhower for our excellent road system. In 1956, he signed the Federal-Aid Highway which led to the creation of our safe, fast, and well-maintained freeways.

Random road facts

Interstates that end in even numbers (e.g. I-40 and I-90) run east-west while highways that end in odd numbers (e.g. I-57 and I-81) run north-south. The numbers are lower in the west (e.g. I-5) and higher in the east (e.g. I-95), lower in the south (e.g. I-10), and higher in the north (e.g. I-99). As you may have figured out, interstates that end in "0" are the major arteries, generally running coast-to-coast. I-90 is our longest interstate, spanning over 3000 miles and crossing 13 states, stretching from Seattle to Boston.

Flyover Country

 Lots of people in other countries believe that all of America is like New York or L.A., based on the movies and TV shows they've seen. There's no denying that these cities are influential, but their combined population is about 3.5% of the total U.S. population. 'Real America' is a whole other thing that can only be explored on the ground. You can dismiss the middle states as 'flyover country,' but there's a reason the Midwest is called America's heartland.

I believe interstate culture is fairly stable from the shores of NC to the Californian surf. Dotted with rest stops, billboards for lawyers, speed traps, and promises of Starbucks and gas just ahead, our chain restaurants, gas stations, and stores tie us together. Waffle House, Wendy's, Target, Dunkin' Donuts, and Shell stations are familiar to us all.

There are some clear regional differences as you travel across the U.S. In Kentucky, we saw a sign for a prison and distillery tour. In Tennessee, we passed the South's Largest Adult Superstore. Another billboard advertised the Trump MAGA superstore. We knew we were out of the South when arrived in St. Louis and saw a large, golden statue of Mary perched on the tippy top of a Catholic church.

Craig and the Beave

Stuckey's, Buc-ees, and Hucks

As a child, my road trips led north to New Jersey to visit my dad's family. As we kicked each other in the back seat, my sister and I would sing "Found a peanut," play license plate games, and keep our eyes peeled for the teal roof of Stuckey's. Starting as a roadside pecan stand in 1937, the Georgia-based chain had stores in forty states at the height of its success. Spotting a Stuckey's was magical: the allure of the famous pecan log roll was its siren call. Sometimes my parents also bought me a small stuffed cat to add to my collection, several of which were in half-hairless happenstance following a stint in the washing machine after I threw up on them.

As Stuckey's began to decline in the '70s and '80s, Texas was building its own chain of travel center must-see locations: Buc-ee's. (Obviously, Buc-ee's wasn't copying Stuckey's name or their red and yellow sign.) Famous for its super clean restrooms, huge store, warm nuts, and Beaver nuggets (ahem), this chain has been expanding to other states. North Carolina has been abuzz for months now that we are about to get our first 74,000 square foot Buc-ee's in Mebane with a mere 120 gas pumps. We had our first Buc-ee's experience on our trip to St. Louis. Craig lasted five seconds inside the store but he appreciated the cheap gas.

Imagine my surprise when we reached St. Louis and discovered yet another gas station/convenience store called Huck's. A regional chain, Huck's has 125 locations in five states. There must be something about "uck" words that attracts people in need of gas and snacks. Whatever the name, there is something uniquely American about turning gas stations into a restaurant/shopping mall. These islands of necessities and absurdities mark our trail across the land.

The Car-tastrophe

Our trip was going swimmingly until the last day in St. Louis when my son merged my daughter's car into another vehicle. They had gone to the City Museum and Daniel was driving to meet us at the art museum when he didn't see a car in the right lane next to him and plowed right into it. Craig and I drove downtown to make sure they were okay and to chat with the police.

No one was hurt, but much to our dismay, Anna's car was not drivable. The next three hours were spent sitting in our car in one hundred-degree heat while Anna called the insurance company and we waited for a tow truck. It is always a hundred degrees when I go to St. Louis. I don't know why. Our Airbnb had frosty AC, but Craig's parents don't believe in air conditioning, possibly due to their age and/or French ancestry.

I remember my first betrayal by Midwest weather back in the late '80s when I attended graduate school in Illinois. After surviving my first brutal winter, I was anticipating a nice, pleasantly warm summer as compensation for the ungodly cold, but no. It was a hundred freaking degrees. It was at this point I decided not to stay in Urbana to do my Ph.D. Maybe heat and humidity just follow me from the South, but it seems worse in the Midwest.

Finally, the tow truck came and the four of us piled into my Honda, grimly determined to not express our frustrations. We decided to get pizza from Imo's again for the third time in four days. Its cracker-thin crust, square-cut slices, and Provel cheese (basically white Velveeta), make it distinctively St. Louisan. Sadly, the accident disrupted our plan to go to Ted Drewes for frozen custard, another St. Louis favorite. Nonetheless, we were stuffed full of Imo's and that is no bad thing.

The Long Road Home

We were in my Honda Insight and on the road home by 5:00 a.m. the next morning. Anna's car had been towed to a shop where it still awaits repairs. She'll have to fly out and drive it home when it's ready. Our large children were crammed in the backseat for the long ride home, but they didn't complain.

We took a different route, through Indiana and West Virginia. We passed the Hoosier National Forest and the Tamarack Artisan Market. Lunch at Taco Bell cost almost fifty bucks, which I still cannot fathom. Despite everything, I was happy to be snuggled up in my blanket while the AC blasted, with my husband driving and kids in the back, watching the miles of America fly by.