Finding Backroads

The week of my wedding had arrived. Dad asked me if I had time to take a motorcycle ride with him. Frazzled and unsure about everything, I couldn’t think of anything I would like more than to disappear down a back road.

I didn’t have a clue about marriage; My father knew it, yet he never uttered a word. He knew time would teach me all I needed to know. We wound through the curves of the road, just enjoying the beautiful day and the countryside.

For as long as I can remember, my folks have taken their time getting to the destination. Suppose they could avoid highly trafficked interstates and highways they do. Now, there were times, growing up, when they had to get from point A to Point B, but a backroad was always their first choice. They taught my sister and me to love them also.

In the movie Cars, the car character, Sally Carrera (Bonnie Hunt), says, “Roads used to move with the land, not cut through it, people used to take backroads to have a good time, not make time.”

Along the way, on our motorcycle adventure, we found an old country store sitting on the side of the road. Dad pulled off and suggested we stop and have a coke. We went inside and found two cokes and some M&Ms (my personal favorites). The owner of the store sat out on the front porch of the store with us. We talked about the weather, my upcoming wedding, and a bunch of nothing.

It wasn’t long before a car pulled up. The owner said, “That will be Brandon. He always comes for a Mountain Dew and Snickers bar this time of day.” Dad and I just smirked at one another as she walked inside.

Dad leaned over and commented, “You better log this away because you can’t get moments like this back.”

Something happens on a back road. I can’t quite explain it, but life slows down, the views are sweeter, and plans find clarity.

Charlotte cannot appreciate the backroads yet, but Eva has fallen in love with the view outside the car window. Usually, there is not much difference in time between the interstate and a backroad, so we typically take the backroad.

I get captivated as we drive slowly through small towns—each offering its own quaint appeal and alluring ideals to trap us affectionately. I embellish forgotten stories that I honestly don’t know as we crawl through each town, looking at old buildings from centuries past, envisioning life as it once was, and enjoying the modern intentions to keep it alive.

While dusting my bookshelves one day, Eva noticed a green glass Sprite bottle. She asked if it was special. I mentioned that it was to me. I told her Daddy got it for me one day when we were riding the backroads one afternoon. He knew I liked glass bottles, so he grabbed it while in the gas station.

As time passes, I find I grow more like my parents, living a life much like a back road. That is God’s plan if the model is a good one.

I find a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, a visit with a stranger, and an afternoon ride down a backroad are like moments in time I cannot get back.

Sometimes I think about that motorcycle ride with my father right before my wedding. The butterflies had already begun, and I was sure I couldn’t go through it. Ten years and many miles together have produced a love that has forever changed me.

Although we, too, have had times where we have needed to get from point A to point B, typically, it is the scenic view we choose. And what a view it has been.

Next time you find yourself making time, take a detour, you will be glad you did.

Welcome Home

“However, after his brothers had left for the festival, he went also, not publicly, but in secret.” John 7:10

(He must have found a back road)

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