How to Plan a Road Trip

by Erica Sackin

You’re going on a road trip? Marvelous idea! This classic American adventure is a wonderful way to see unique parts of the country, travel to new and interesting places and, according to a number of movies I’ve seen on the Lifetime channel, find yourself while escaping a negligent and/or abusive husband.

Since road trips involve traveling large distances and operating fast-moving motor vehicles, a few steps of precaution are always necessary. But remember: whether it’s driving west on highway 24 from Manhattan, Kansas to see the world’s largest ball of twine, or finally conquering anorgasmia in a dirty motel room with a cowboy or cowgirl who might steal all your money but still looks like Brad Pitt and/or Amy Smart, as long as you follow a few key steps you will, undoubtedly, have the time of your life.

Find a vehicle.
As anyone who’s woken up to a dead car in the motel parking lot knows, your vehicle is the most important part of a road trip. Other modes of transportation can stand in from time to time, but keep in mind a trip from Boston to California on a Greyhound Bus is not a road trip, it is a Greyhound trip (and also an exercise in the kind of misery that comes with smelling McDonald’s for ten days straight).

Likewise, if you decide to hitchhike, this is not technically a road trip so much as the manifestation of your subconscious desire to become a victim. If you decide you must engage in hitchhiking, make sure you bring along a friend, carry mace or other defensive weaponry, and perform your hitchhiking in a place where you know the local language or at least some key phrases such as “No, I am not looking to perform sex with you in exchange for a ride in your small European car.” (This last one is a lesson I learned once while trying to hitchhike with a friend through Croatia).

I know nothing about car machinery, but will wager that you should probably at least get your car inspected by a mechanic before leaving. Because no matter how many times you’ve re-read The Secret, positive visualization will never fix a broken fan belt, and an optimistic outlook won’t fill your gas tank if you run out in the middle of a desert highway. I hear AAA is helpful, as is learning how to change a flat tire. Oh, and don’t rent from Rent-A-Wreck. As I learned one cold morning in that motel parking lot in Delaware, their name is an exercise in honesty, not irony.

Get real about yourself.
There are two types of road trip people. The kind that are focused on getting from point A to point B as fast as possible; usually folks who are either moving to a new state, travelling with a dog or are deathly afraid of flying. They take no joy in the eccentricities of America, such as Hooper, Colorado’s Alien Watchtower, or The World’s Tallest Uncrucified Christ located in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. They’ll also usually end up dragging you by your hair out of the Stax Museum of Soul in Memphis, should you take too long staring at the album art on the first release of “Do The Funky Chicken.”

The other type of person is the one for whom the road trip is all about experience. They will undoubtedly want to stop at every antique store/junk yard, will drag you to the Rock Animal Zoo in Scottsboro, Alabama, and think it’s “cute” to get dinner in the biker bar off route 12 they read about in American Motorcyclist. While they bring a sense of joy and adventure to every trip, they must be watched, for if left to their own devices they’ll spend a full week looking for that ghost town that was supposed to be just off of route 161 in Nevada.

The key to finding a balance between the two is to set yourself a schedule, chose a few key sights ahead of time, while leaving some room for flexibility. Sure, you can plan on taking 66 from Las Vegas to LA, but you should also be willing to acknowledge that you are not going to bust on in to Area 51 and you will probably not enjoy walking the perimeter for hours.

Bring a friend.
Certain people (killers, bank robbers, secretaries who just stole money from their boss, authors on book tour) may prefer to take a road trip on their own. But there are many benefits to bringing a friend along with you. There’s someone there to make sure you don’t fall asleep while driving, or get stabbed at a rest stop. They can share the experience, take photos of you at cheesy tourist traps and they’ll be there later to reminisce.

This friend should have a valid driver’s license and also zero, absolutely

no warrants out for their arrest in the states you’ll be driving through. While it first may add a sense of adventure when your college friend tells you to be careful while driving through Texas because they’re wanted in that state for drug charges, you’ll soon find that obeying all traffic laws and driving below the speed limit grows tiresome. Also you get pulled over quite a bit in Texas.

The person you choose should also be someone whose company you can stand for more than a few hours at a time, and ideally, will have the same approach to the road trip as you do. Note that although taking a road trip with a new romantic partner can seem like a fun and exciting idea at first, the rigors of daily ten-hour drives can put stress on even the most promising of relationships. Unless you’re setting it up as a test to see if someone has marriage potential, I would recommend against choosing a partner you’re not yet comfortable being really gassy with in close quarters.

Also he or she should have a functional credit card.

Make a plan of how you and your friend will avoid killing each other.
The stories that come from road trips are full of adventure and excitement. Memory is like that! But the experience itself consists mainly of driving for hours and hours on endless, nondescript highway. Sure, the occasional confederate flag or Kenny’s Roadside Farmhouse of Horrors may add a little spice to the journey, but for the most part, roadtrips are, like meditation, incredibly boring. So your imagination might begin to find new and dangerous ways of keeping yourself occupied, like wondering why your road trip partner insists on breathing so loudly through his mouth or how she keeps putting her to-go styrofoam cup in your coffee holder.

Music can be key in this endeavor — a good playlist will keep you going for a few hours at least. I personally prefer a heavy dose of hair metal, as nothing beats the rush you get from singing along to Def Leppard at the top of your lungs while pumping the gas pedal in time with guitar riffs and speeding past suckers in slower cars, at least until you get pulled over. But you should go with the music that inspires you. Pick things that make sense for the terrain, such as Johnny Cash if you’re in Tennessee or Reno; or John Denver if you’re driving through the Rockies. The Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan also make great all-terrain soundtracks.

Another option is books on tape — an incredible way to learn something while ensuring you don’t commit first degree murder over that extra-loud bag of Sunchips. Driving from Texas to New York City, I did Kafka’s Metamorphosis and began (though didn’t finish) War and Peace.

Pick a route.
A good road trip should always choose a direction, but still leave room for improvisation. In college, my boyfriend and I once decided to take a road trip to the beach. Never mind that it was 11 p.m., or that we didn’t exactly know where the beach was. We couldn’t find water bottles to take, so instead we filled up a bucket and hoped it didn’t spill. We only had credit cards instead of cash, so we ended up writing checks for 25 cents at all the toll booths. And since we hadn’t thought to bring a map, we ended up trying to decipher where a beach might be on the poster of New Jersey provided at a rest stop. We did finally, in the pitch black around 2 a.m., find something that looked like a beach, and spent a romantic night cuddled in sleeping bags underneath the stars — only to be awoken in the morning by a few gruff men with pickup trucks. Our lovely “beach” wasn’t a beach at all. It was in fact a small inlet designed to help cool the nearby nuclear power plant. (Let’s hear it for New Jersey!)

If there’s a lesson in this, it’s to always know to at least some degree where you are going. A major (or minor!) city makes a lovely destination, as do any of the colorful alien-, ghost- and oddity-centric attractions listed at Roadside America.

Maps are also key. A GPS device works as well, but will often steer you towards the most direct, not the most interesting, route. Still: not knowing where you’re going at all leads to a strong chance you’ll wind up driving in circles, or worse, end up in a strip mall. You can always ask directions, but be wary. People rarely tell you what you really want to know.

For God’s sake, bring some money.
As anyone can tell you who’s ever sped down the Garden State Parkway, tossing nickels into the toll catchers and hoping the authority won’t notice, money is an important part of a road trip. You should always have cash on hand for things like breakfast, gas and bribes. Remember, you can’t bargain on the price of that wagon wheel rocking chair if you’re trying to pay with a credit card.

As the national system of ATMs and banking options is a bit screwy, it’s advisable to withdraw a large sum of money ahead of time to ensure you have cash on hand. You should also create a budget for your trip, as things can get expensive quickly. Planning for the amount of money you’ll need is easy: multiply the number of miles you’ll be driving times the mileage of the car times the average price of gas in each state, allowing for any oil spills and/or new international wars that might raise/lower prices, then add in the cost of hotels and food. You’ll be spending about 10% more than that.

Plan to sleep.
The most fantastic Best Western in the country lies just off the Pacific Coast Highway, just south of Big Sur. It features oceanfront views, and rooms with fire-pits and jacuzzis. Unfortunately, a night in this Best Western will run you about $450 a night — unless you book it online ahead of time. Don’t learn this lesson the same way I did: at 11 p.m. with no backup plan. Trust me, you’ll instead end up staying at the abandoned Seabreeze motel across the street, where bargaining for a room may not get you a better price, but it will get you an upgrade to the one room with a minifridge. It’s usually reserved for customers with severe medical needs, as I confirmed upon opening the fridge and finding the forgotten dialysis supplies of the previous resident.

(It’s also good to have a sense of what’s going on where you’re going. Off to Key West? Maybe look online to find out if 10,000 bikers are also coming to town! You may or may not think this is awesome.)

If you can, book a hotel room ahead of time, at least for one or two of the nights. You should also know where the Motel 6s and Super 8s are along your route. They’re guaranteed to be at least a little better than the by-the-hour motel down the street.

If you plan on sleeping in the car or camping, research where the designated areas to do so are located. Bring a tent and sleeping bags, and do not, under any circumstances, engage in a sexual act while sleeping in a car on the side of the highway.

Emergencies will happen. It’s okay.
Let’s say you’re driving through Kingman, Arizona and get a flat tire on the side of the road. Perhaps, knowing nothing about cars, you decide to wander into the desert while your friend is busy fixing the tire. In the tumbleweeds, you spot a trailer in the distance, and decide to venture closer for a better look. Within 100 feet, however, a few heads pop out of the trailer windows. Shouting ensues. The motor starts and they start driving directly towards you, whooping, pointing, everyone brandishing something that may or may not be a small weapon. Let’s say when this starts happening you decide to run, jumping over bushes all the way back to the highway, glancing over your shoulder and remembering the advice your friend’s dad who’s a cop once told you: it’s harder to hit a moving target. When you return to your car, the trailer in hot pursuit, you find that your friend has successfully fixed the flat and is ready to speed away. Now, in that circumstance, won’t you be glad you kept that spare tire in the trunk, instead of removing it to make room for your suitcase like you’d been planning to?

In road trips, as in life, it’s a fact: as soon as you stop preparing and assume everything will be fine is exactly when the worst will happen. The only way to combat this is to prepare for the absolute worst. Emergency gas, food, water, a first aid kit, a car charger for your cell phone. Pack flares, and maybe some light weaponry such as (legal-sized!) knives and pepper spray. Seriously: bring a fishing rod, in case you get stuck in the woods having to forage your own food. There’s even an iPhone app now that tells you which mushrooms are edible and which ones will kill you. The more disasters for which you plan, the less likely it is that anything bad will happen. It’s a law!

Also keep in mind that most isolated trailers in the middle of the desert are probably meth labs filled with extremely angry armed people.

Sponsored posts are purely editorial content that we are pleased to have presented by a participating sponsor, in this case Gillette; advertisers do not produce the content.

Erica Sackin is our Spandex Report columnist, which focuses on the lives of the young, so she would know. She is also the proprietor of Erica Saves the Day.