Sam and I met at the commencement of our freshman year of college. We became inseparable, immediately; we compliment one another. Our relationship is one which promotes growth and expansion. Together, we adventure and explore. Through any and all means of travel (car, train, bike, bus, boat, foot, airplane), we seek out new paths and investigate our curiosities. It is this desire for discovery which makes our travels such fun. Our journeys are often longer the actual vacation stays, for, to us, the trip is the important aspect of traveling. We live through spontaneity. Our trips home from the store or beach become expeditions to the mountains visible in the distance. Our travels are a series of missions to make the horizon tangible. In an effort to create memories and whet our explorer appetites, we follow the rainbows and reach the horizon.

We place ourselves in unfortunate, yet interesting, situations regularly, through our irrational decisions. (I am convinced Sam is to blame.) We have camped with nearly forty members of a motorcycle gang. We have traveled for nine hours, to reach the small coastal city of Pescadero to buy artichoke-pesto bread—upon our arrival, we discovered that the bakery was closed.

Another adventure left us quite hungry. We decided to not stop until we reached a Green Burrito restaurant. It is a chain-restaurant, but apparently, only regionally. We covered a few hundred miles, as our stomachs murmured in displeasure. As such, we were on the alert for a neon-lighted sign reading, “Green Burrito.” Despite this, we missed the first one we saw—the highway turn-off occurred prior to the Green Burrito sign, and, on a road trip, you cannot turn back! Our gas tank was dwindling; the empty-light had been on for miles. We made the choice to break our pact; we would stop at the next exit and fill the gas tank. That next exit was solely residential! We roamed the neighborhoods, passing block after block, house after house, as the gas gage’s needle sank below “empty.” Wearily, we ventured up a hill as the engine cut out. From the top of the hill, we could see it. It was there—a 76 gasoline station, adjacent to Green Burrito. Success!

It is our silly games and impulsive choices such as this which perpetuate the excitement which is our adventure. When we travel, we have fun. Isn’t that the point?