A Love Letter to my Road Trip Home From College
This article is part of our Spring 2022 print issue. See the full, digital version of the issue here.
459 miles.
That’s the distance between my home in Collegeville, Pennsylvania, and Elon University taking the fastest route.
The road trip between my two homes is estimated to be anywhere from seven and a half to nine hours. Unless my tire deflates in Maryland, in which case my trip extends to a rather lengthy 15 hours, but hopefully, that was a one-time unlucky instance.
The duration of a road trip may be tiring and boring for some, but I look forward to my drive at the beginning and end of each semester. It is easy for me to fill this large gap of time by doing the little things others may take for granted.
I spend the drive cruising down Interstate 95, connecting highways and backroads having a one-woman show and singing too loudly for someone who has a terrible voice. I love talking on the phone with an old friend or checking in with my family to give them traffic updates, listening to my favorite podcasts when my throat grows raspy and, ultimately, just thinking.
When I’m on the go nearly all day, flying from task to task, I rarely take the time to just stop to clear my head and self-reflect. But when I’m amidst miles of road and countryside, there’s a gravitating silence in the air that prompts deep thought.
It’s also definitely easier to lose myself in my inner thoughts when there are only 180 miles until my next Waze direction.
Focusing solely on the road in front of me, finding my way from one destination to the next, shifts my mentality from the chaos of my daily life to free my mind. I block out my present struggles and spend time reflecting upon my past and future.
The past.
There’s arguably nothing more nostalgic for me than the flood of memories as I depart from the place I spent my entire childhood, leaving my family and friends behind.
When I’m driving to school, it doesn’t usually occur to me that I won’t be back in Pennsylvania for a few months until I reach Fredericksburg, Virginia, a town just before the halfway point of my road trip.
It may seem like just another ordinary suburban town to most people, but it’s become memorable to me because it’s the one-stop I have made on every single trip to and from school. In Fredericksburg, I immediately head to Wawa, a popular food and gas chain in some northern states on the East Coast. For me, though seemingly silly to others, going to Wawa is my last taste of home before I’m at Elon.
Growing up in a fairly small town meant there was only so much to do nearby. My childhood and early teenage years were marked by Wawa runs with my little brother and best friends—times I will always hold close to my heart.
As I leave Fredericksburg to continue my drive, I can’t help the overwhelming feeling of nostalgia as I realize Wawa trips—and my time with the people I grew up with—are fleeting memories now that I only temporarily live at home during the year and will eventually move away from it entirely.
There’s nothing like listening to the lyrics of mellow sad songs on the road as background noise for the sudden awareness that I’ve now spent the most time I ever will at once around my family and childhood friends.
The future.
Let’s be honest, it can be exciting but absolutely terrifying to dwell on.
For many college-aged kids like me, the future revolves around the overbearing pressure of becoming a “real” adult. This includes transitioning from four classes a semester to working a 9-5 job.
As a 20-year-old sophomore, just the thought of being halfway through my college experience scares me a bit.
On my first road trip down to Elon at 18, I didn’t have a clue what the first chapter of my adulthood held in store for me. I was simply amazed at the fact that I had driven myself the longest I ever had and was the furthest south I had been in my entire life. Life was a state of pure bliss as a college freshman.
At 22, after my college graduation, I’ll make the drive up north to home for the final time. I don’t know exactly where I’ll live, the work I’ll do or the person I’ll be exactly, but hours on the road allow me to simultaneously daydream and worry about it all.
A whole new chapter of my adulthood begins at 22 too, just as it did at 18. Each is characterized by newfound independence, character development and fear of the unknown. We just develop a sense of maturity along the ride.
The trip combines my past and future through two main destinations—home and college—paralleling the cusp of adolescence into early adulthood. Throughout my four years here, I’ll make almost the same drives up and back, yet the woman I become will change and grow for the better.