Life is a highway: The destination wasn’t important on her road trip with husband

“I have to stop for a coffee.”

This is the sentence that begins every road trip I take, and the people who travel with me expect it. They know I’ll stop at my favorite coffee truck, they know “coffee” is generic for “first leg of travel beverage,” and they also know I’ll offer to get them whatever they like.

Curiously, my husband was not aware of any of this. Why? We don’t travel together often.

This may sound odd: A couple married for more than 30 years doesn’t travel together? And my answer to that?

If we traveled together more often, we wouldn’t have been married this long.

We are very different travelers, my husband and I. The primary difference is that I enjoy any kind of travel, from day trips to months-long, multi-destination adventures, and he does not. Once we accepted these truths, finding a solution was fairly easy: I go places, he stays home. Neither is wrong, both of us are happy.

But that day, we took a day trip together not because we had to, but because we wanted to. In a life full of to-do lists, responsibilities, family, and not enough hours in a week, having a fun, optional outing is pretty rare. Very rare. I honestly don’t recall the last time we had a day like this together when we both agreed on the destination, were both looking forward to the time spent there, didn’t feel rushed or obligated to go: We just simply wanted to, so we did.

Where we were going wasn’t important to anyone except us. That both of us were in the car, waiting on my caramel cloud iced coffee, navigation set for a destination 2 1/2 hours away, sunglasses on, gas tank full, windshield clean, and both content is what was important.

It wasn’t all happy trails: We bickered about what to listen to. Had I been alone, I would have been listening to a podcast or audio book. If he had been alone, he would have been listening exclusively to the songs of his youth, which I can’t quite bring myself to call “oldies” since they are also the songs of my youth. Road Trip Rules clearly and universally state that the driver gets to choose the music and I, as driver, chose to compromise on a playlist that we would both enjoy.

I skipped past my very specifically themed playlists like “London Calling” or “Boston Bound” and chose “Noah Hits the Road,” songs our youngest had compiled for me with a travel theme. Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now,” Sinatra’s “Come Fly With Me,” Coldplay’s “Adventure of a Lifetime” …we sang along to whatever parts we knew.

It was a long list including two versions of ”Life is a Highway” (Rascal Flatts and VeggieTales), two “Leaving on a Jet Planes” (John Denver and Peter, Paul and Mary) — but the double-header of “Route 66,” one from Chuck Berry, the next from The Cheetah Girls, maxed out my husband and he played his veto card.

No problem, next up was a personal favorite playlist: Susan’s Sing-Along. It was then that I hit my stride and dazzled my husband belting out the lyrics of every song…until he asked if it was necessary that I also dance in my seat while I was driving.

Brian, I’m performing!

Fortunately, for marital unity, we arrived at our destination, had a lovely time, and headed back a few hours later, driving into the sunset. It wasn’t an exciting day, it wasn’t an epic road trip, and in the big picture, it might even be a day that we ultimately forget.

But, sometimes, the best of life happens in the ordinary, the forgettable. Lives and histories are built around the mundane, mile by mile, and the details of daily life are often lost, but the essence that they leave behind? That’s a road map to a relationship.

Susan is a Kansas City based writer and podcaster. She co-hosts the award-winning, long running women’s history podcast, The History Chicks.