Road Reflections By Mike Freeman

Road Reflections

By Mike Freeman

My parents ride their bicycles throughout Europe on their three-month honeymoon. They take an ocean liner home to the United States. My conception occurs during that watery journey. That is what the math says. Their first wedding anniversary present to each other is me. Travel is my destiny!

My first travel memory is looking out an airplane window at either a sunset or sunrise. My mom joins me as we enjoy the splashes of color across the clouds. I am four years old. We are traveling to visit my parents' families in Michigan and Vermont. I have no other memories of that trip.

I am now 11 years old, and the eldest of six children. My parents take the entire family on a three-day, two-night train trip to Chicago. We explore the large, glass-domed car, where passengers view the majestic countryside. We find adventure eating in the dining car and sleeping in small compartments.

The train is making stops along the way. For an unknown reason, I am curious about Denver and get off the train. The train whistle signaling departure blows loudly. Looking out the train window in horror, my mom spots me wandering on the platform. There is a shrill shout. My father dashes off the train, scooping me up just in time to safely return to the train. My mother is relieved. My brother and four sisters are apathetic. They miss the entire show. I could have been an orphan in Denver. I suspect my siblings would enjoy that.

We visit the farm my mom grew up on in Michigan. My brother and I pass the time throwing fallen apples over the barn. The local farm boys watch in amazement. Working the farm leaves them little time to play baseball. We try to teach them to throw properly, but with little success.

The next day, they take us to a corral with a large brown horse.

"Jump on," they say. "He is easy to ride. You don't need a saddle!"

I jump on the horse from the corral fence. The horse takes off running. I panic and grab its neck, hanging on for dear life. I finally find a way to get off the horse without killing myself. Everyone laughs but me.

My respect grows for the farm boys, even if they can't throw apples over a barn. I am envious when I discover they drive tractors at the age of 12. The downside is that they drive them to work the fields. I begin to realize that people live vastly different lives.

We continue our travels to visit family in Vermont. One day, we are barbecuing steaks with my cousins. They wrap their steaks in aluminum foil before grilling. I find this odd. We season our steaks and throw them directly on the grill. We love the barbecue flavor. My cousins do not. I gain another insight. Different people enjoy different things. And that is wonderful!

I take a two-week trip to Mazatlan, Mexico, with my friend Ralph and his family. I am 15 years old and excitedly drive the car on occasion. We stop at Guaymas on the way south to snorkel. We see numerous color-strewn fish and hammerhead sharks. Large manta rays are playing around our small boat. They leap out of the water and do loud belly flops on the surface. My wonder for nature, different cultures, and languages begins to flourish.

Everything we see underwater is enthralling. I forgot to reapply sunscreen, resulting in the worst sunburn of my life. I am like a reptile, sloughing my old skin off over the next few days. I gain another life insight. There are consequences in life for the things we do and don't do.

I turn 16 and am off on another family adventure. My parents pack the entire family into a 25-foot-long RV for a one-month trip across the United States. Eight of us are living in a 200-square-foot space, traveling at 65 mph. How can there possibly be any problems? Our experience helps us quickly learn lessons about sharing space and privacy.

We arrive at our grandmother's farm in Michigan. The barn is a playground. We swing on ropes, jump from rafters into piles of grain, and find endless hiding places for hide and seek.

Now, my future All-Star softball sisters can throw apples over the barn. The local farm boys still cannot. They have low enthusiasm for our games in the barn. I avoid riding any horses. Despite our differences, we enjoy several wonderful days together.

Our trek continues to a lakefront home outside Montreal. The owners are my aunt and uncle. We swim, canoe, and wage massive water fights with local kids. We enjoy their French Canadian accents. They accuse us of having a southern drawl. Endless arguments erupt about pronouncing certain words.

Tracy, a fun-loving, blonde, French Canadian girl, becomes my first crush. Our few days at the lake quickly go by. My uncle and I scheme to delay our departure. He tells me to remove the rotor from the RV's engine distributor, which prevents the engine from starting. The night before our departure, I wrestle with the devious act of sabotage. I decide not to.

The next morning, my uncle informs my father about our plot. My dad, understanding my hopelessly love-sick condition, goes to test the RV's engine. It starts up immediately. We depart right away, leaving my broken heart in Canada.

We arrive in Vermont and visit a local swimming pool with 1-meter and 3-meter diving boards. I am a diving competitor on my high school swim team. I decide it is time to show off my skills to the people of the great state of Vermont.

I perform a 2 1/2 front somersault off the high dive. Next is a back 1 1/2 somersault, layout position. Finally, I wow the crowd with a reverse one-and-a-half somersault, tuck position.

Bernie, the pool lifeguard, walks over and introduces himself. A fast friendship forms. He introduces me to the local youth, including his sister, Pat. They become friends for life. I am discovering there are incredible people everywhere in North America.

We travel down the East Coast, arriving at our nation's capital. I notice a gathering crowd as we wander around the Washington Monument. A large number of uniformed Nazi party members are speaking to the growing crowd. They speak poorly about Jews, Blacks, and people who believe in democracy. Everyone in the crowd must be Jewish, Black, or believe in democracy. The crowd becomes very agitated and shouts down the uniformed speaker. The group of Nazis cannot understand why people do not support them. I learned a vital lesson in public speaking: read the room.

We turn west toward home, soaking in the vast beauty and diversity of our country. Our one-month expedition is quickly over.

I am 19 and struggling to find a job to pay for my college. The economy is very rough.

One Sunday afternoon, my father pulls me aside and says, "Your grandparents will give you a job in Vermont for the summer. You will earn a minimum wage of $1.65 per hour and work 5 1/2 days a week. They will supply your transportation, food, and housing."

I am sweeping the floor of my grandfather's heating supply store in Vermont within a week. I reconnect with Bernie and Pat for the Fourth of July celebration at the local pool. We find many adventures together that summer. I visit my aunt and uncle outside Montreal twice. Tracy is at the lake both times. I fall in love all over again.

The drinking age for alcohol in Vermont is 18. I savor the newfound freedom of going to bars and buying beer. Returning to California is depressing. The legal drinking age there is 21. The two-year wait in California to legally purchase beer goes by very slowly. I learn patience regarding different rules in different places about the same thing.

Pat and Bernie have a one-week vacation a year later. They journey across the USA to visit me in San Diego with two of their friends. They stay for three days and two nights. I throw them a huge party. Then they drive straight back to Vermont. Only incredible friends drive both ways across the USA in nine days to visit me.

I decide to hitchhike across the United States after my friend, Linc, encourages me. He is an expert hitchhiker with deep travel experience. His water polo nickname is "The Missing Linc." I think it is a worthwhile adventure before starting graduate school. At the last minute, Linc cancels.

I announce to my nervous parents that I am going anyway. They make me an offer I cannot refuse. I can drive their Fiat automobile if I take my sister, Kathy, and my next-door neighbor, Cathy. I agree. I begin my trek with boundless optimism and $500 for all my expenses.

Our original plan is to travel up the West Coast to British Columbia. Relatives warn us about an early winter. We immediately decide to head east toward Michigan.

The first night, we camp out in southern Utah. A monster rainstorm drenches everything. I tell the two ladies to camp in the dry women's bathroom. They move there and are miserably cold but dry. Hand dryers provide no heat. I sleep in the car, dry but cramped.

Later, they insist I got the better end of the deal. I think I am being noble. This argument continues today. I gain the insight that some arguments are unsolvable.

We arrive at a fabulous feed at my grandmother's farm in Michigan. Eating road food is OK. Nothing is better than farm-fresh everything. We visit family and friends and continue to Montreal, Canada. Kathy and I renew old friendships while visiting our aunt and uncle. We introduce Cathy to everyone. It is a wonderful few days of splashing fun on the lake.

Tracy is there. My girlfriend, Shannon, is waiting for me in San Diego. I discover Tracy is also in a relationship. I am experiencing my first heartache dilemma. What to do? Tracy and I resolve to be just friends. Who knows our future?

Fall colors are blazing with brilliant reds, yellows, oranges, and greens. We decide to follow the color change down the eastern seaboard until it fizzles out, somewhere around Florida. My wonder for the beauty of nature continues to expand.

We head south to Brattleboro, Vermont, visiting my grandparents and friends. Time with Bernie, Pat, and friends quickly passes. We move 100 miles south every few days to enjoy the leaves changing color.

We arrive at our nation's capital just in time to meet our father. He is on a business trip and getting ready to return home. He treats us to a tasty dinner. My sister, Kathy, decides it is time for her to head home. Her boyfriend beckons. She also wants to help our sister Mary Beth, who has just given birth to my parents' first grandchild, Bryan. She leaves with our dad. Cathy and I continue our exploration.

We continue following the diminishing colors of fall. They fade in southern Georgia. Continuing into Florida, we visit Cape Canaveral, the Everglades, and drive out to Key West. Traveling up the West Coast of Florida, we pass Naples. Cathy decides she wants to go to Disney World. I have no interest. I have been to Disneyland too many times.

I drop her off at Disney World and journey to St. Petersburg. I enjoy a few beers on a beautiful beach. I drive back to Disney World, pick up Cathy, and we continue our road journey.

It is time to head west. We arrive in New Orleans. I take Cathy to the French Quarter to enjoy its unique music. We go into Preservation Hall to relish the Dixieland music masters. We begin discussing the next day's travel plans to Houston, Texas. I tell her I know a friend's family in Houston. I will call Kirk's parents the next day.

There is no need. I look at Cathy as we sit down. Kirk's parents are on the other side of her! What are the odds? They are returning to Houston the next day and invite us for a visit. Coincidences like this are common when traveling.

We enjoy everything in Houston with Kirk's family. Then onto Austin and the Alamo at San Antonio. I am running very low on money. It has been three months of travel across the USA. Five hundred dollars does not go as far as it used to!

Cathy and I beeline for home. We enjoy the national parks of Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. The immensity, beauty, and diversity of our country are incomprehensible.

We arrive in San Diego on fumes. I literally have two cents in my pocket. I fall into the welcoming arms of Shannon. Cathy says goodbye and heads home to Anaheim.

This trip results in major life changes for me. I left thinking my career path would be as a high school literature teacher and water polo coach. Instead of earning a teaching credential upon returning, my growing sense of adventure guides me to do what was inconceivable as an undergraduate. I take business classes and earn a Master's in Business Administration degree.

The master's degree unlocks opportunities previously unavailable or unrecognized before my trip. My 40-year business career includes frequent travel all over the globe. I take a four-month break from it to backpack throughout Europe.

From the moment I gaze out an airplane window as a child to the miles crossed by train, RV, boat, and battered Fiat, travel becomes the thread stitching together my family, friendships, heartbreaks, lessons, and dreams. Each journey quietly shapes the person I become.

The road teaches me resilience, curiosity, humility, and gratitude for the vast diversity of people and places that make up our world. A childhood adventure grows into a lifelong calling, guiding my career, deepening my faith, and broadening my understanding of life.