A Blast From The Past

 

            My road trip was literally and figuratively A Blast From The Past. The journey I embarked upon has similarities or stark differences from several literary works that I read and analyzed over the course of the semester. These works include On the Road by Jack Kerouac,  Wild by Cheryl Strayed, The Road by Cormac McCarthy, and the poem El Sonavabitche by Gloria Anzaldua.

 

            My three day excursion took me south of the DFW metroplex and was simply wonderful. My experience is totally opposite to that which Gloria Anzaldua writes about in her poem titled El Sonavabitche. Anzaldua’s experience of being on the road was anything but positive. The author begins her poem with “a car flowing down a lava of highway” (Gloria Anzaldua 1). Lava has a mind of its own and the destination is unknown. She is outraged by the way the migrant worker is treated and she reflects that in her loud and angry voice in her poem. She wants better working conditions and fair pay. There is nothing enjoyable about her road trip. In stark contrast, I would not change one aspect of my road trip even if that were a remote possibility. I ate well, encountered the friendliest people along the route, and had the pleasure of having a close friend with me during the duration of the trip. The weather was absolutely spot-on flawless. Only in Texas is it possible to have weather warm enough to be wearing capris in mid-February followed by an ice storm event that nearly paralyzes all of north Texas.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

            I found I could empathize and establish similar characteristics with the memoir titled Wild, by Cheryl Strayed. The death of her Mom, her divorce, and multiple affairs, left a gaping hole in her heart. She hit the road when she literally walked the PCT, a path of over 1100 miles. Why would a woman take on a challenge that is predominately accepted by males? Perhaps she does this as a means of escaping her painful past. But I think there is something much more to the memoir. Strayed is seeking to fill the gaping deep hole she has in her heart caused by all the trauma she has endured in her life. True, some of the pain has been self-inflicted, but certainly not all of it. As she ends her quest to complete the PCT, she ultimately finds herself and becomes the woman that she was destined to become. Similarly, I too am searching for the authentic me. My journey has been long, arduous, and at times gut wrenching more times than I care to count. Like Strayed, I chose to enter a field that was predominately a vocation that was held by males. At the age of 18, I entered the US Army. The area that I grew up in was economically repressed. My parents were very poor and there simply was no money for college. My parents did not have college educations. Making a trip to the local college for information seemed like an impossible voyage. Perhaps because we only owned one car, the option of college was ruled out. Just as Strayed found she was strong physically, I too proved to be extremely strong and ran 4-5 miles per day. Just like Strayed, I can say unequivocally, without hesitation or reservation that I have truly walked through things in life that most people in America cannot remotely begin to wrap their brain cells around. I understand the quote, “I didn’t know where I was going until I got there” (Cheryl Strayed 27). As I indicated in my personal story, I began the road trip totally clueless where the road would take me. Surprisingly, at each stopping point, there was a little nugget waiting for us to find and explore. We didn’t know it was our destination until we found these nuggets from our past. It is strange, yet comforting to find joy in something utilized decades ago. While Strayed completed her quest to find her true identity, mine is still a work in progress. I have one more year of college to complete. I love the quote Strayed uses towards the end of her book (there was nothing to do but go on” (Strayed 238). Go on is exactly what Strayed did. That is indeed what I am doing and will continue to do until the task at hand is complete. My true identity is close at hand as well.

 

            On my road trip I used an old road map. Yes, I know in the present day age of GPS, it is a novel idea that people still travel using antiquated road maps. But there are people who use road maps, and for this particular trip, I chose to use a map as well. Little did I know that using an old map would fit in perfectly with the theme of my road trip. In Cormac McCarthy’s novel The Road, the man also known as Papa utilized a map. His map appeared to have been old like mine was, as he noted “black lines are on the map” (Cormac McCarthy 43). The man makes references throughout the novel about divinity. It is my opinion that it is implied the he does indeed believe in God. As I mentioned in several places in my personal story, I indeed believe in God, and listen to hear his voice and guide my steps into the future.

 

            I found Jack Kerouac’s On the Road to be a difficult book to read. It was hard to comprehend the totally carefree, unencumbered lifestyle the characters portray throughout the novel. The further away Paradise and Dean could get away from traditional lifestyles, the better. That is a total opposite of who I am. I enjoy and need structure in my life. I don’t need every minute of every day planned out, but I do require a structure of some sort. Speaking for myself, structure and routine brings me a sense of comfort. For Kerouac’s characters, their ultimate goal was to “communicate with absolute honesty and absolute completeness” about anything and everything (Jack Kerouac 37). I think honesty is important to most people, but tact is important as well. The author utilizes many types of cars throughout the narrative. However, I believe hitchhiking was one of their favorite modes of transportation. Dean drove like a maniac and a speed limit was something he chose to ignore. Personally, I have never received a traffic ticket and try not to drive erratically. However, this can be a challenge with the numerous deplorable road conditions that are located on our interstates. Sal and Dean hit the pavement and crisscrossed from the east coast to the west coast multiple times. They did so as frugally as they could as they searched for who they were and the meaning of life. Trying to attain the meaning of life dominated their conversations. Binges of drugs and alcohol were constantly being used and abused to enlighten their minds in their quest for answers. I too traveled my road trip as frugally as possible. Like Paradise and Dean, I am searching for my identity. However, I chose to rely on the guidance from the Lord, rather than frenzied drug and alcohol episodes. At the end of the novel, Paradise comes to the realization that “life is holy and every moment is precious” (Kerouac 52). All I need to add to that quote is one simple, but profoundly powerful word, Amen!

 

           

Works Cited

 

Anzaldua, Gloria. “El Sonavabitch.” Norton Anthology of American Literature. 7th ed. Eds.

            Jerome Klinkowitz and Patricia B. Wallace. Print.

 

Strayed, Cheryl. Wild. New York: Vintage Books, 2012. Print.

 

Kerouac, Jack. On the Road. 1957. New York: Penguin Group, 1999. Print.

 

McCarthy, Cormac. The Road. New York: Random House, 2006. Print.