I don't really like road trips. I realise that's un-American, but I don't. Chad says it's because all I can think about are road trips with my family, and you know what? He isn't wrong. I never went on a road trip in my young life that wasn't with my grandparents, squashed into their van so that we could bring every possible thing under the sun with us. And we always had nasty microwaveable sausage biscuits for breakfast before we left. And stops were infrequent enough to be things of wonder: My grandfather, once behind the wheel of a car, was on a mission. A mission that did not include bathroom breaks or Happy Meals or, to my chagrin, side trips. Ever.
Yes, that's what always made me sad about road trips. There were all these other roads, leading to all sorts of other places, and we sailed right past them time after time. I always wanted to turn off onto one, just to see where it led, but I was strongly outvoted.
|An actual picture of my "not my road"|
I was pondering a map of downtown Austin earlier and noticed another trail that forks off of Town Lake. I'm headed out right now to see where it takes me.
Do you ever take the time to leave your course just to see what happens? Is it worth it?