Most Memorable Road Trip

The freedom that comes with youth and the lack of responsibility that accompanies the carefree spirit of young adults is often overlooked by those focused on their future and who over plan their whereabouts of tomorrow. This was not the case for me. The most memorable adventure of my life occurred at the age of twenty. It was me and my two closest friends Josh and Gia; we had no exact destination in sight but knew we would be traveling across the country, embracing every adventure and befriending every person we encountered along the way. With Virginia as our starting line we set out to explore such cities as Louisiana, San Antonio, and Hollywood only to find the end of our journey leaving us back on the east coast in Cocoa Beach, Florida.
Setting our sights on New Orleans as our first stop we all felt a bit of uncertainty over what we were committing ourselves to, but with every passing mile the nervousness was slowly replaced by the excitement of what we were driving to, Mardi Gras! Arriving just in time for the celebration we were mesmerized by the way the streets seemed to just come alive. There were street performers painted in silver and gold, standing tall above the crowds and stunning the onlookers with their ability to entertain and persuade the crowd. There were small children tap dancing with the hopes of collecting tips as their mothers peered on from the background. The streets were lit with rows of machines filled with beverages only breaking in pattern for an entrance to a bar where people came and went at will. Streamers and confetti filled the air from those who stood on balcony’s to join in on the festivities, and colorful beads draped the necks of all who attended. Only staying a few days, we found this long enough to make a new friend who would ride alongside us for the roundtrip to California.
As we continued towards the west it did not go unnoticed the dramatic change in scenery. Where we once rode among city lights and large billboards we were now surrounded by dessert land with the fields of cactus waving us by. My friend Ron had recently moved to Texas so it was with priority that we make a stop in to see him and to say hello. Ron was a great tour guide for the city San Antonio and seemed eager to introduce us to his new hometown. There was an outside mall called the river walk where we found strips of shops that sandwiched a river and as we walked along this route we found ourselves passing the Alamo where we would find a nearby bar to relax and enjoy fifty cent beers. Somehow between the heat of the cool spring Texan air and the alcohol that our beverages contained we all chose to venture down a river in tubes, still enjoying a few beers along the way and making new friends as we floated passed them. A few days later we would be leaving for California.
I’m not sure why we set out to touch California only with the understanding that we would turn back to the east and put the trip behind us, but leaving Texas made California feel just miles away. We headed their eager to explore the cities of Hollywood, Venice Beach and Mexi-Cali. Once we parked in the great state of California we went from four wheels to two almost instantly, peddling down the strip of the beach and enjoying the many wonderful sites that laid upon it. We passed artists of great talent and musicians that filled the local streets with the melodies from their chosen instrument and vendors eager to share and sell their craft. Making many friends within the following weeks of our stay allowed us the invite to many dinners and suggestions to sights that we can see firsthand, strolling the walk of fame and finding ourselves in front of studios where many television shows are filmed. Soon we found it time to take a moment and appreciate the living we were able to do within a two month period, but had to concede to the end of our time in California and set our sights back to the east coast.
Our return to the east seemed to be a somber event. Stopping once more to say farewell to our friend Ron in Texas, and another stop in New Orleans for our new friend to depart from the ride, we all seemed to spend the last stretch of the ride reflecting on the memories we just concreted in our minds. Once we made it home, we each returned to the lives that we can better embrace the word normal as a description of and in time we would find that even though this adventure formed an unbreakable bond in our individual history, our paths would no longer cross. Regardless of how much of my time on the road has been forgotten, the trip itself will always be remembered.