Readers who are familiar with Robert M Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance will know that journey was about a father and son who went on a transcontinental trip. In this fictionalized autobiography, the pair explored philosophy on the road. Similarly, I took my 14 year-old daughter on a trip across (parts of) Route 66 and we had many opportunities to explore many topics across many miles over a span of many days.
While we met many folks on our journey and stayed with resident friends in Las Vegas, our trip was pretty much just the two of us. Our only goal: westward. And for most of the time, we measured passage of time by the miles we traveled. On really slow days, we traveled 400 miles to get from one place to another. On our busiest days, we stayed put and traveled zero miles and explored locally! Our trip was filled with enlightening conversations which were illuminating for my daughter and retrospective, yet introspective for me. And we stumbled upon life’s precious lessons.
Finding comfort with uncertainty. My career has always been filled with roles that are ill-defined. I never know what problems I’m going to face when I show up at work and the ability to move toward a solution takes cooperation, calm and creativity. ‘One problem at a time’ is my motto and how I like to approach life. My daughter said to me, “Mom would never travel the way we do, dad. She would need to book a hotel on specific days and at a specific location.” Many people need that structure and that works well in many situations. But we are exploring and I don’t want to be rushed to get or leave in order to commit to an arbitrary motel booking. My daughter has become quite comfortable dealing with ambiguity when traveling with me. She takes great comfort, ironically, that I can’t even answer a simple question like ‘where are we staying the night.’ For her, the absence of an answer means the exploration continues. She’s well prepared for her future career that may not even exist yet.
My daughter has become quite comfortable dealing with ambiguity when traveling with me. She takes great comfort, ironically, that I can’t even answer a simple question like ‘where are we staying the night.’ For her, the absence of an answer means the exploration continues.
Two steps forward and one step back. Eleven days into our trip, we had already traveled 2000 miles. I would usually check the vehicle’s fluid levels every other morning. This time, I must have forgotten to cap or I uncapped something and something started to drip. As I pulled away, I saw fluids ponding and freaked! Was there damage to the car? How much is this going to cost? Was this the end of the trip? I wound up calling my automobile association and got a tow—100 miles in the opposite direction. Because it was a weekend, the driver told us that he’ll bring it to the recommended shop, but they don’t open until Monday. By the time the shop opened, the mechanic called to say they can’t work on the car until Tuesday. To make a long story short, the diagnosis was not catastrophic. They checked a bunch of other things for me while on the hoist. It can certainly drive another 4000 miles before a required oil change. They even balanced the wheels for me and topped up other fluids. So, after an unscheduled 3-day stopover, they sent us on our way. In life, there are always ups and downs. Children know this through games like Snakes and Ladders. Investment bankers live through the market’s rise and falls. This is life. Dwell on the downside and you’ll completely miss the upside.
Quality versus quantity. We did pass towns which suffered devastating effects of a highway bypass. In these towns, the main street is boarded up and not a soul was seen walking. It was difficult to tell if there were even permanent residences there. Although highways and byways are needed to connect two places in the shortest distance, but theory and reality results in sometimes spectacular upheavals. It’s always a balancing act in considering what is gain versus what is loss. There’s always a trade-off.
The almost four weeks we spent on the road together was immensely memorable not only because it gave my daughter and me precious time together, but it was another opportunity for her to learn about herself in a world of changing conditions. Do we miss home? Of course! But we made the road our home for the time we were on it. In the lyrics of Passenger, ‘only hate the road when you are missing home,’ we have come to learn that home is exactly where we are at any time. While my daughter’s future is undefined, she wouldn’t want it any other way.
