How I love the freedom and anonymity of taking to the open road!
In the last 6 months, I have been fortunate enough to do a bit of traveling by car and find myself hoping for that next road trip. As I hop into my car and take off, I realize that I am the only person on earth that knows when and if I will arrive at my destination.
I am entirely free from any routine. I kick off my shoes and roll down the windows, preparing for my adventure. The highway or back roads? The highway to start. As music blasts from my iPod or radio, I sing along to my favorite songs as loud as I please. The person in the next lane is staring at me, I don’t care what they think. I wave and smile at truck drivers. I can take a right or a left, it is my decision and mine alone.
I do look forward to stopping along the way; truck stops, gas stations, restaurants and eventually a hotel. If I can help it, I never stop at the same place twice. I wander inside where nobody knows who I am. I smile and chit-chat with no one, or everyone. Miss Anonymous. I am nameless, one face in a sea of a thousand faces.
When I finally stop at a hotel, I hesitate in my car for just a moment. I know that as soon as I give the clerk my license and credit card, the gig is up. My anonymity is stripped from me, at least for that one moment.
The next morning I depart from the hotel and I am back on the open road. My anonymity intact once again.
In a half a day I will be at my destination. A town where everyone knows my name. I feel slightly anxious as my incognito status slowly evaporates. My family, old friends, and acquaintances all live here. Any stop that I make I will most likely run into somebody that I know. I am ready for it now after my invigorating and solo ride up the coast. Here we go!
I am back in my car heading south to my home in North Carolina. I have only lived there for six months and am unknown to most. Miss Anonymous in a large city that is home – for now.
As I cruise through Virginia towards the North Carolina line, I see a sign that says: Rocky Mount NC/Miami. Should I simply keep going straight to Miami? I may just do that.
Years ago my mother started calling me the “The Merry Wanderer.” She even gave me her hummel by the same name. She was right – I need to wander.
Random Travel Post: The Uninformed Tourists of Hawaii