I hope it is true that one never gets too old for a good road trip. The waking before dawn, packing the vehicle so that both people and materials fit comfortably, gauging the correct amount and variety of snacks so that there is no need to stop and buy a six-dollar soft pretzel, but also so there is not an overflow of extras to go stale in the real world, where my food preferences are more hearty. Scoping out the cheapest gas in town, collecting coins for the toll booths, wishing for an ezpass. Often, for me, the road has been the destination, but I remember fondly the feel of the morning summer air as my siblings and I stumbled into the back of a conversion van, destination: west. So, the road trip with a destination is not lost on me. I know a smile will sneak up into my left cheek as we travel down 1-95, see the “Pennsylvania Welcomes You” sign, and further yet as Liberty one and two become visible along the skyline. So, look out mama. I’m coming home.

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