By Todd Sulchek
It was three a.m. My shift of driving down the open road had just begun, and already I was dozing off. Beside me was my friend and traveling companion who had just managed to find a moderately comfortable position sprawled out amongst the box of music tapes and highway maps. In three hours the sun would come up and we would both be awake. It would be then that we would pull of the highway and ease the car into some nameless town.
Although only two days had passed since the start of that first trip, the change in us both was absolute. Learning occurs best through a combination of self study and good teachers, and traveling was proving to be no exception. When my friend first suggested a drive that left us three days to traverse from one ocean to the other, I thought it was crazy since neither of us owned a car. After a scan through the phone book, and busting out the map, in fact there was no reason why it couldn't be done. "It's crazy", people still told us as we packed up 3,000 miles worth of Cokes and an extra set of clothes, but we cycled down to the local driveaway company, signed our names to their contract, and we were off. Two road scholars were born.
Since that first journey, I have made several more trips, both alone, with a friend and within a group. When traveling though, I found I learned more when I can see through the eyes of another, encountering identical circumstances through a different perspective.
If one person makes a good teacher, a group of fellow travelers would seem to make great teachers, but the old cliché of three's a crowd holds on a deeper level than it at first seems. Thinking back to another cross country drive with three other friends, that trip had less to do with the flavor of the areas flying past our van' windows, than it did with the personalities of the travelers. Conversations tended to be internal in the group, and certain riders did not want others to intrude on their conversation. In addition, meeting new people along the way took a back seat to what to see next.
Meeting people while traveling in numbers can be nearly impossible. Even well intentioned group travelers will scare others off, due to their outnumbering. Yet a receptive pair can open themselves to approach and, at the same time, provide one another with the confidence to seek out the new and unknown. I have found that friends can go to places where either one alone might find intimidating. On one such occasion my friend and I stopped at a bar on an otherwise closed street, and played pool with off–duty waitresses.
Maybe it is merely instincts of safety in numbers, but hitching a ride in back of pickup on the way to rural Thai festival, hurtling along the open road caught between dormant rice paddy, is easier when your friend is there beside you. It is these types of memories that take the greatest hold on me. I believe that only a single person or pair could have slipped themselves into these situations so as not to disturb the harmony of the new surrounding. Any more and that center, where posturing is no longer needed, shifts to one side, and the equilibrium, where guards are let down, is disturbed (what?).
While traveling alone I have complete control of where to go and what to do. This has backfired at times when I wished I had a companion with me. After a pickpocket left me with no money in central China far from my home in Nanjing, I was practically overwhelmed by the help of strangers whom offered addresses to stay at and money for a return train. Yet with a friend we would have worked out the problem.
Another plus of traveling with a companion is the ability of relating feelings while on the road. It is difficult to relate a new adventure to a family or friend who has never been to that place. It feels like I keep saying, "You had to be there," whereas a travel companion will say, "Yes, I know. I was there too."
