Getting My Kicks . . . .

 Road. Trip. Two of the best words in the English language.
I’ve always been a road-tripper. During my stint in corporate America, my boss asked me to fill in for a couple of weeks during his vacation. I was in Chicago; he was in New Jersey. He told me to book a flight and my response was, “I’d rather drive.” I took a vacation day on Friday and was at his desk on Monday.
However, my best trips were of the random variety. During law school, in Tulsa Oklahoma, I developed a fascination with Route 66. Surrounded by history, the road called me. My first trip on 66 was an excuse to visit a friend in Los Angeles. My second trip had a different motivation.
Sitting in class, taking my last final, I suddenly wanted an omelet. Not just any omelet, I wanted a Spanish omelet. And it just so happened that the best Spanish omelet I had ever tasted was served at the Silver Moon Café in Santa Rosa New Mexico. The fact that it was 500 miles away did not deter me. I was hungry.
I got up early the next morning and took off.
Even as hungry as I was, I couldn’t make the trip in one jump, so I stopped at the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo, Texas. No, I didn’t try to eat the 72-ounce steak in one hour to get a freebie, but the sirloin tips were well worth the stop. I needed a break anyway, because I’d seen a tornado about an hour earlier. Well off across the plains, it was a sight. A scary sight. One that spawned the worst hail storm I’ve ever driven through. I was ready for lunch.
However, I was undaunted, I still wanted an omelet. Hey, you know what they say about omelets and breaking eggs. No tornado was going to stop me. Refreshed, I hit the road.
I got to Santa Rosa just in time to check into the little dumpy hotel next door. Greeted by the sleepy clerk, I had only two questions:
“Any vacancies?”
“What time does the café open?”
The next morning the nice Mexican lady called me “chica” as she served up my omelet. I explained that I had driven from Tulsa the day before to have breakfast here and her response is forever etched in my heart and mind, even ten years later:
“Um, okay . . .”
It’s hard to explain to the uninitiated the power of the road trip.

Terri Coop is a lawyer by day and writer by night. She lives and works in a Civil War era pile of bricks with a leaky roof and past-due property tax bill and loves every minute of it. She still hates tornadoes and loves omelets and also has a hankering to go on a road trip.


  1. She hadn't heard of other people driving hundreds of miles for one of their breakfasts? Sounds like it was very much worth it! If for no other reason than to say, "Remember the time I drove to Texas for breakfast?"

  2. Spur of the moment trips like that are a thing of my past. I certainly never did anything like you did, but I so admire people who drive to Texas just for breakfast. I've never really had that kind of spontaneity. I feel too tied down. Not in a bad way. I guess I just can't let go of my responsibilities without feeling guilty. I wish I could though! I also wish the gas prices were a little lower. That would probably put a stop to any crazy fun road trip. Of course, that could just be labeled as one of the responsibilities it would be healthy to let fall away, for one day. :)

  3. It's nice to read someone else who understands. I haven't made it to Route 66 yet but it's near the top of my (long,long,LONG) list of Road Trips yet to come. :Fights urge to abandon all responsibilities and hop in the car immediately:


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