Road Trip!

Last week I drove to Atlanta with two college girlfriends to visit my very best childhood friend. As we turned a bend on I-75 in northern Georgia, the skyline came into view—every building revealed a unique silhouette. So this is Atlanta; this is why my friend left Kalamazoo and pursued a new career. My two girlfriends let out a shriek of excitement. We turned up the radio, glanced at the GPS and let the adventure begin.

I was enthralled by the metropolis my friend calls her new home. For such a large southern city, Atlanta was both laid back and quaint. We shared meals on colorful, mismatched dishes and shabby-chic furniture in open-air cafes. Bowls of fresh fruit and honey, granola pancakes, biscuits and peaches comforted like a meal from grandma’s kitchen. The city is considered one of America’s “urban forests,” where many trees and green vegetation are incorporated into the city. So the view from almost anywhere within Atlanta reminded me of sitting on the back porch of a cozy wooded lot, where buildings jutted into the sky like the tallest trees of the forest.

But Atlanta is also renowned as a melting pot of culture, and anyone strolling downtown can feel excitement ribbon through the air, cross the street and flow into all the unique shops and restaurants. On our first night in the city, my girlfriends and I sat in a chandeliered booth eating sushi and sipping mojitos. We enjoyed valet service and befriended an Irish soccer team on holiday. I suddenly realized we had evolved from the Easy-Mac and Slurpees of our college years.

The return ride to Michigan seemed longer than our trip South. I felt like I was leaving so many thrills behind…not to mention, my best friend. But it’s funny how 12 hours in the car will make you realize the beauty of our country. As we rode through the peaks and valleys of Tennessee I was completely taken by the view. I realized that the redundancies of everyday life have isolated me from the culture, excitement and nature that surround me daily in Kalamazoo.

Nearly 20 years ago, my best friend and I were two blonde girls sharing a single seat on the school bus, practicing our spelling words. Only 5 years old, we giggled as the driver curved the back roads of Kalamazoo. We sang songs, drew pictures in the moisture on the windows and spoke in our secret language. We were special friends who aspired to become veterinarians, marry brothers and someday float together on a cloud in heaven. We didn’t know much of life beyond our bus route—we only knew each other.

I’m proud of my friend for molding a new life and pursuing a passion in Atlanta. Reuniting with her always awakens my inner child. She now calls a beautiful, lively city her home. But for me, without the love and presence of good company, Atlanta would have been only a bustling cluster of tall buildings in a southern forest. Just one of the many lessons I’ve learned since I rode the bus with my best friend in grade school: it’s the people who make the place.