Books About Road Trips Novels & Stories

11 You know how many kids would kill to go on road trips all the time? It’s not only my mother who’s said that. A lot of friends and uncles have, too. I don’t know what other kids would feel about it, but I know about me. Forget Carris. Forget home. When we’re settled in a town or city for too long, I miss the freedom and chaos we find in the wider world. Following the roads, just my momma and me. Deciding a direction by flipping a coin, by dodging the sun, by watching the moon. By spinning around three times with our hands held out in front of us. Stop, stumble, stand. And whichever stretch of horizon we both see, that’s the way we go.

The road between the second and third territories was four days. She had not expected to like traveling this much. Not the distances or the camp meals or the particular ache of sleeping on ground that was not a bed. She liked the quality of time the road created. Unscheduled in a way that was different from the three weeks in Obsidian Crown, because on the road the unscheduled time was bounded by motion and destination, and motion with a destination felt purposeful even when the hours inside it were entirely her own.