What's the deal with that color green and cars of the early 50s? I remember when my father took me for a ride in his first new car, a '53 Chevy in two-tone green, that same piss green with forest green accents, quite a snazzy combo as I recall. The car was so new it had brown paper on the seats to protect the upholstery and it was my first exposure to that elusive "new car smell."
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I don't know what Uncle Ken means by his reference to an iconic road trip unless he is referring to rites of passage, like something Kerouac or Joseph Campbell would expound upon. I've read some Kerouac and have always enjoyed road trips but never considered them anything special. Although I preferred motorcycle journeys, the road trips in a car were a lot easier, especially if you had a buddy along to kill the time with. Solo journeys can be mentally taxing if you don't have a radio to listen to.
Mr. Beagles' trip from Alaska sounds iconic to me, particularly when you consider it's length. I don't think I've ever driven or ridden more than three straight days without a break of a day or two. At least he had the foresight to stock up on food, something I usually entrusted to the Fates, depending on what places were open and how much cash I had.
The only way I can describe some of my trips is "I must have been nuts!" An awful lot can go wrong but I lucked out; except for a few flat tires on the bike and a dead battery there were no real emergencies. Rain and bad weather don't count as they are to be expected. A good rain suit is worth it's weight in gold, keeping you dry and warm.
What constitutes an iconic road trip, anyhow? Is it the age at which you take it, learning valuable life lessons? Are difficult trips more iconic than the easier ones? It seems to me that there is a kind of journey that is taken for no real purpose except the journey itself, like when you crave a bratwurst and decide that a trip to Sheboygan Wisconsin is the perfect answer for that craving. The unanticipated flat tire was an added bonus.
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