Have we reached our destination yet? Six ways the classic road trip has evolved and remained the same.

Throughout the past few months, as the world faced the challenges of the coronavirus pandemic, I've often wondered, "Have we arrived yet?"

So, have we made it yet? Have we managed to flatten the curve, see fewer new cases, or reduce fatalities? Is testing accessible and reliable? Are we ready, both mentally and physically, to embrace a semblance of a "normal" life once again?

So, are we at our destination yet?

In my view, the answer remains ambiguous. At 71, my comfort level is still leaning toward discomfort. I remain hopeful for the future and eagerly await the day when the headlines no longer focus on coronavirus news and all the statistics related to the virus show consistent and undeniable improvement.

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I recall a time when those four words were solely linked to travel, primarily during lengthy drives. As a member of the post-World War II baby boomer generation, road trips were woven into the fabric of our existence. In the 1950s and 1960s, affordable airline tickets were non-existent.

Road trips were simply a part of life, as the U.S. was deeply enamored with its cars. We reveled in the freedoms that had been fought for in the war, and we were a society that thrived on movement. Catchy jingles urged us to "see the USA in [our] Chevrolet" ... or our Ford, Dodge, Plymouth, Buick, Packard, Cadillac, Chrysler, Oldsmobile, Lincoln, Studebaker, DeSoto, or Hudson.

Cars were large, striking, and heavy, adorned with chrome and always ready for adventure.

However, now in 2020, I genuinely believed that our era of extensive road trips had come to an end.

Miles and points expanded our travel budget, along with budget airlines. Together, they made spending long hours in a car to traverse the country feel almost pointless and unnecessary. An affordable rental car was always ready for us at the airport after our award ticket or $29 Spirit or Frontier flight.

Any journeys we might consider in the near future are likely to harken back to the past.

As more travelers take to the skies again, my wife and I, both in our 70s, are cautious yet seasoned road trippers, potentially ready to pack the trunk once more. Here’s a glimpse into what road trips were like during their last golden age—and why we’re thrilled to load up a cooler with snacks and hit the open road.

The quintessential American road trip

Road trips during the 1950s and 1960s were central to summer family vacations. The car trunks were fully loaded, and we typically set off hours before dawn to gain a head start before breakfast. Every available inch was filled with luggage, camping gear, a cooler, and a toolbox—everything needed for a two-week escape.

Everything was stacked on top of the spare tire. And, as you might expect, when a flat tire struck, we had to unload the entire trunk on the roadside to reach the spare.

Each family member had their own sacred spot in the car, with no seat belts or car seats to keep everyone in their designated area.

We resided in the Piney Woods of southeast Texas, but within an hour, the grand pines and their long shadows disappeared from the rearview mirror. We then faced hours of scorching Texas flatlands, farmlands, ranchlands, and wide-open ranges. It was easy to get lost in thought, lulled by the 30-mile stretches that always seemed to separate one small town from another.

The first day of a road trip wasn’t about sightseeing or detours. It was dedicated to covering roughly 600 miles to ensure we reached our destination (usually the mountains of Colorado and New Mexico) by the second day. Back then, state and national roads didn’t bypass towns—they connected them. The best average speed on these cross-country journeys was about 50 miles per hour, so it often took a while to get to where we wanted to go.

The original window seat

For the most part, cars lacked air conditioning and modern tech (no DVD players, Bluetooth, or satellite radio), making window seats highly desirable. The breeze at 65 miles per hour made summer heat bearable, and the scenery was the ultimate source of entertainment.

The window also served as a means to vent cigarette smoke and was a powerful bargaining tool. It could be offered as a trade.

"I’ll let you have the window seat until the next town if you let me read your new Archie comic book," for instance.

While the open window had its downsides, like being the first to catch the scent of a local skunk or the strong odor from a crowded feedlot, I must admit I cherished gazing out from my window seat during our road trips, just as I have enjoyed it from my window seat in row 23 over the years. It’s both enlightening and entertaining to see the world rush by.

Roadside attractions

We packed a Coleman thermos with a twist-off lid that served as a drinking cup, alongside a picnic basket filled with bologna or ham sandwiches and canned Vienna sausages for lunches at roadside parks. If you’re unfamiliar, these parks were small pull-offs along two-lane roads featuring a couple of concrete tables, a concrete fire pit and grill, and large oil drum garbage cans, often accompanied by a few hundred resident flies.

Roadside parks were typically nestled in tree groves for shade, and a breeze was always a welcome defense against the flies. Restrooms were usually nonexistent.

These stops were planned, calculated, and eagerly anticipated. They were vital to U.S. road travel before the Interstate era—so common and essential that their locations were marked with a small blue circle on the free road maps provided by major gas companies of the time.

The forerunner to GPS and MapQuest

Our glove compartment was filled with local, state, regional, and national maps, branded with names like Humble, Sinclair, Esso, Sohio, Chevron, Conoco, and Phillips 66. These maps served as our GPS and navigation tools, guiding us from point A to point B and back again.

You knew you were maturing when you could successfully refold a map to its original shape—this was a rite of passage on any road trip.

When it was time to refuel, gas stations were not just convenience stores; they were service stations. Attendants would fill your tank, clean your windshield, and tidy up the car’s interior with a handheld whisk broom.

Rest stops

Stations usually featured two service bays for car repairs, and refreshments were limited to a soft drink machine that might or might not function, along with a selection of candy bars and chips. In the 1950s, soft drink bottles were made of glass and cost about a penny per ounce. You could choose from Coca-Cola, Squirt, NuGrape, Nehi, Sun Crest, or R.C. Cola. Whenever you stopped for gas, visiting the restroom was a must, regardless of the condition of the facilities.

Analog entertainment

The car radio, your sole source of entertainment tech, had a poor signal, so you often picked up small local stations as you entered their broadcast areas. They mostly played country music or hosted a local swap meet over the airwaves.

"Wilber, over on Fifth Street, is selling a good set of whitewall 7.75 by 14 tires for $50 for the four. You can reach him at 446." (Yes, phone numbers in small towns were just three digits and on a party line.)

Every now and then, we would pull out the Auto Bingo game, starting with spotting how many different state license plates we could see, and later guessing the distance to some far-off landmark ahead.

Lodging and meals

After a long first day, we typically settled in for the night at a motel with a swimming pool and, hopefully, a diving board. In 1956, having a diving board was a significant status symbol for an 8-year-old.

However, most of our journey involved camping out, with a few nights spent in a rustic cabin to enjoy some comforts of civilization, like beds, indoor toilets, bathtubs, and running water. Looking back, I’m sure those were my mom’s favorite travel experiences.

Trip planning, gathering information, and making reservations for lodging 60 to 65 years ago typically involved mailing correspondence back and forth using 3- or 4-cent stamps. It wasn’t necessarily easy, but it was all part of the adventure.

Meals on the road, aside from picnics at roadside parks, were quite different back then. National fast-food chains hadn’t gained popularity yet, with small mom-and-pop drive-ins, burger shacks, and hot dog stands leading the way.

Every town would feature a City Cafe, Joe's Diner, or Polly's Restaurant and Lounge, and you could always expect a red-and-white checkered tablecloth.

Hitting the road again

Now that road trips are back on the agenda for our travels (and for many other vacationers this summer), things are bound to look different.

You might be cruising in a comfortable SUV equipped with four-wheel drive. Each passenger will likely enjoy independent climate control and personal video entertainment.

Navigation systems will replace traditional maps, guiding you with instructions like when to turn left or continue straight for 95 miles after a quarter-mile. They will critique your mistakes, while the car will beep, buzz, vibrate, and flash warnings for any driving missteps. A time traveler from the 1950s might wonder if your kids are named Alexa, Siri, and Google.

Satellite radio will offer hundreds of audio options in stunning surround sound—no more vague country tunes in the middle of nowhere.

Refueling will be a breeze at mega-stops featuring a hundred gas pumps and an endless array of food, drinks, souvenirs, jerky, and sparkling restrooms—though I suppose that last point is more relevant than ever. (For those of you who remember, think: Stuckeys on steroids.)

You won’t need to rely on finding a Joe’s Diner with a checkerboard tablecloth anymore, because there’s an app to show you what’s nearby. You can likely even place a mobile order before arriving in the next town.

Lodging will be in high-rise hotels rather than single-story Western-themed motels where you could park right by your front door. Wi-Fi quality will matter more than having a swimming pool.

Today's road trips will offer more comfort than ever, but travelers will need to make a greater effort to truly savor the joys of the classic American road trip. The highlights of my childhood journeys were the experiences, interactions, and unexpected moments.

We weren’t just driving to reach a hotel or resort—the journey itself was part of the destination.

In summary

The world has evolved. However, in many ways, revisiting and revitalizing past experiences isn't necessarily a bad thing. Enjoying conversations with neighbors on the lawn and taking the time to explore the country by car both possess a certain undeniable charm.

During those road trips of my youth, the days eventually dwindled, and the pull of home beckoned. The return journey was far less enjoyable, felt much longer, and often meant an all-night drive. I can still hear my dad clicking the headlight dimmer on and off with his left foot as cars came toward us.

I’ll confess I’m eagerly anticipating the day when we can travel freely without worry. But until that moment arrives, I’ll take solace in the classic road trip. The only questions I’ll have will be, "How much farther?" and "When will we arrive?"