COLUMN: Intricacies and themes of taking trips
It is likely that the reader of this article spent some portion of spring break on a trip. The allure and enticement of a whole week without the quotidian and endless academic demands of college life is enough to inspire one to go on a “trip.”
The concept of a “trip” is an interesting one. A trip has a few essential components which don’t change. The first is that a trip requires packing. In this process, one takes stock of his worldly belongings and chooses which ones will be necessary for the upcoming days. There are several strategies to this.
The reader is most assuredly familiar with the “overpacker” who deems that everything they own is essential to their comfort and survival. “Overpackers” bring enough underwear to change it three times a day and still go home with clean pairs, several pairs of shoes for each conceivable occasion, and a various assortment of things for which there is no foreseen use but falls under the category of “just in case.” Let it be noted that the so called gentler sex is usually well represented in this category.
Then there are the “underpackers.” This is the kid who climbs in the car with a pair of ball shorts and a bag of pretzels shoved in a book bag, and wonders if the flip flops he is wearing are too much weight. Being friends with underpackers has its perks, as it leaves more room for you to bring more of your own things, but if the trip is too extended, they might begin to smell. It is important to find a balance between these two. The author himself tends to underpack on hygiene and clothing and overpack on gear, his philosophy being: Why do I need deodorant when my four pairs climbing shoes stink so bad they mask my odor?
Once the packing has concluded, the travel portion of the trip begins. In this portion, one applies the principle of investment by making a sacrifice in order to receive a reward. The sacrifice on a trip is confining oneself to a small and usually uncomfortable space for extended periods of time while you travel to your destination. Personal space, comfort, leg mobility and feeling in your extremities are set aside while the wheels turn, carrying you down the road.
An interesting phenomenon occurs during this portion of the trip. This consists of the commandeering of the radio by one passenger in the car followed by the playing of music at extreme volumes which it seems only they enjoy. This results in an inability to converse, read or think straight. The only comfort found is the attempt to sleep, which is often difficult as the seats in cars seem specifically designed to prevent this. May I deviate for a moment and thank the altruistic individuals who willing placed themselves on the “hump” seat in the back seat during my trip this past week.
After the travel portion of the trip has concluded, the activity portion can begin. There are the “up-for-anythingers.” These are the people who are determined to have a good time, no matter what goes down. Even the simplest and least exciting of suggestion for an activity is immediately greeted with a barrage of high-fives, fist pumps, and exclamations of excitement. The author admits he has a guilty pleasure of offering ridiculous ideas to such persons simply to see if they will go along. In my defense, I usually follow up with my offer. This has resulted in ski chairs, attempts to parasail behind cars, and swimming in First Dam in every month of the year. But I digress.
The polar opposite is the “have-to-drag-everywherers.” The most efficient way to get them out and having a good time involves a cattle prod and can loosely be termed “assault,” depending on which state you are in.
There are variations that exist in each of these components, but they are things, which to me, seem to hold true. But my attempts to deconstruct the trip leave something missing. There is a synergy that exists on all truly great trips between these and other components that results in an experience, much better, much more profound than the summation of these components.
A good trip happens when you take a crazy mix of all these things and shake them up and then wait to see what comes out on the other side. Usually it’s a whole lot of laughs, smiles and friendships stronger than they have ever been. After the gear is unpacked, the aches from travel faded and the activities all completed, it’s this that hangs with you. “Overpackers,” the kid running the radio and the “have-to-drag everywherers,” reminiscing for years to come.
– dustin.nash@aggiemail.usu.edu