It seems our current phone number is just a digit or two off from that of a local truck stop, given the number of calls we get for Travel America. Rather than finding the misdirected calls annoying, however, I find myself hit by a bit of wanderlust after each one. I wonder where the callers are coming from and where they are going. I wonder what they’re seeing on the road and what adventures they’re having, what music they’re enjoying in the car and who their traveling companions are. Sometimes I’m tempted to ask them these very questions.
Road trips have become a part of our very fiber in the last decade; the sound of semi trucks idling at rest stops has become a familiar, almost comforting sound to me because hearing semis means I’m on the road to somewhere I want to be. I’ve fallen madly in love with America as a result of all these road trips, too: landscapes both familiar and new have populated my memories with their topography and flora. There is a peace in the quiet isolation of a road trip, encapsulated in a car, free for the time being of the ties of home and work. Traveling in the American West is particularly peaceful; empty roads and arid lands induce a liberating sensation of being able to breathe easier.
So, I’m thankful for these random calls from travelers trying to reach the truck stop. Their calls remind me of road trips past and help me remember that there are still more roads to explore. Even in the middle of the night, these wrong numbers are a wake-up call to remember the wider world beyond the place I currently call home.
What's your favorite way to travel? Favorite trips?
Photo of Coronoado Heights, Kansas is by my husband