Piedmont country, GA, 2020

As I went walking that ribbon of highway
And I saw above me that endless skyway
I saw below me that golden valley
This land was made for you and me

I roamed and rambled, and I’ve followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
All around me, a voice was sounding
This land was made for you and me “This Land is Your Land” Woody Guthrie

The first recorded ‘Road Trip’ may have been “The Odyssey,” but the Siren call of the open road seems a particularly American thing, although that could just be a kind of patriotic home team pride. Whether on foot, horseback, Conestoga wagon, train, or by car, we long for distant, unknown landscapes, from the Louisiana Territory to the Moon and Mars. And when the road beckons, many of us find resistance difficult.

Watch my back and light my way
(My traveling star, my traveling star)
Watch over all of those born St. Christopher’s Day
(Old road dog, young runaway)

They hunger for home but they never stay
They wait by the door
They stand and they stare
They’re already out of there
They’re already out of there “My Traveling Star” James Taylor

When I was attending the University of Georgia in Athens, my girlfriend at that time, still in Savannah, sent me a card with a Carole King lyric inside, “So far away. Doesn’t anybody stay in one place anymore?” We commercialized wanderlust; anyone sentient in 1950’s America could finish this jingle by the second note:

See the USA in your Chevrolet
America is asking you to call Advertising jingle for Chevrolet

In the 1960’s we all watched the same TV shows, and I fantasized, like many of my classmates, of driving a sporty convertible through the west, with no particular place to go, or time to be there. A few years ago, a Nikon School colleague and I talked about renting a vintage Corvette and doing the Route 66 drive, but realized that trunk wouldn’t hold all our camera gear, let alone luggage.

Well, if you ever plan to motor west
Travel my way, take the highway, that’s the best
Get your kicks on Route 66 “Route 66” Bobby Troup

It’s a seduction, the magnetic pull of mystery, a presumed promise of something more, better, a pot of gold at the end of the asphalt rainbow.

I’m going up the country
Baby, don’t you wanna go?
I’m going to some place
Where I’ve never been before “Going up the Country” Alan Wilson

For more of Bill’s photographs, go to https://www.billdurrence.com/index