Road Less Traveled

If you want to get somewhere fast take the freeway. That assumes, of course, your destination is within driving distance, and for me that’s the Western Hemisphere ever since the airline industry began treating its passengers like cattle.

So when my wife, Rhonda, and I went to visit my sister and her husband in Wisconsin over the Fourth of July weekend we took interstate 94 to get there as fast as we could. We had left home Saturday morning, so I was reasonably certain there wouldn’t be much holiday traffic. However, I dreaded the Sunday trip home knowing that the freeway would become a parking lot, as most everyone east of the Mississippi would be traveling west.

We stayed on the freeway for as long as we could, then we headed east while the freeway continued on south and for the next hour we were on a two-lane highway. I am always surprised at how slow 55 mph seems after I have been driving 65 plus for a couple hours.  Traveling at a lower speed does allow you to look around more however.

We had been in this part of the country before – perhaps dozens of times, so the novelty of the surrounding area was losing its charm, and yet it still inspired conversation.  There was certainly more to look at than on the interstate; that’s the trade-off – speed for scenery, and serenity.

We drove through the little towns, over swollen creeks and past horse-drawn hay racks. Soon we were at my sister’s house and ate like royalty. I played with my brother-in-law and his tractor while Rhonda went shopping with my sister at an Amish store. A good time was had by all.  

Sunday I began to ponder the traffic jam that was building like storm clouds in the west. Looking at a map, I saw we could avoid the interstate by staying on a two-lane highway and going out of the way a bit.  It certainly meant more time traveling, but perhaps less time sitting in traffic. I will never know for sure what I missed, but I do know what I gained by taking the road less traveled.

Rhonda has a rule that has served us well over the years – when we enter or come within a mile or two of a small town we do some exploring. This includes driving through the downtown to marvel at the quaint architecture and Norman Rockwell back-drops.

That day in Strum, Wisconsin we came across the used car lot of my dreams, Scott’s Auto Body and Sales. There were two station wagons, a ’58 and a ’59, plus five other cars from the 1950’s and probably several more inside the surrounding buildings. On the other side of town we saw a group of little boys, wearing only shorts, happily playing in the mud puddles.

In over one hundred miles of driving I don’t recall any stoplights, exit ramps or traffic jams. But we did see many small peaceful parks with one or two picnic tables, some old store fronts needing a tenant to make it feel useful again; feed mills in the center of town a couple blocks down from the post office, which was across the street from the bar, which shared a wall with a café; and always a church, sometimes two, to marry and bury the next generation of the towns people.

Afterward I was reminded of a song The Little River Band released in 1977 called “Help is on its Way.” The song begins with two questions and two suggestions.

“Why are you in so much hurry

Is it really worth the worry

Look around

Then slow down”

Although all little towns could stand to use a little more commerce, I don’t want to ruin a good thing by changing everyone’s travel habits. Aware of Don Henley’s warning “You call someplace paradise, kiss it goodbye.”  Yet, I see no danger in that with a society that thanks God it’s Friday without acknowledging the good of the preceding four days. We wish our lives away, forgetting that the joy is found in the journey and not the destination. If you want to enjoy the trip, take the scenic route.