Love Letter to the Interstate System
Travel Blog • Sophia Dembling • 05.20.09 | 3:25 PM ET
A certain type of traveler, the “I-only-watch-PBS” type of traveler, scorns the Interstate. These travelers are all about the blue highways, those small rural roads that require time and patience and don’t send you hurtling through America’s heartland. (Today’s rumination is brought to you courtesy of this New Yorker cartoon, which got me thinking when it turned up in my email inbox.)
But I love America’s great Interstate system, officially (and a little frighteningly) called The Dwight D. Eisenhower National System of Interstate and Defense Highways.
I love the scale of Interstates, the signs that direct you not from town to town, but from great city to great city: SOUTH—MIAMI; WEST—LOS ANGELES. These signs give me the same thrill as an international airport. They speak to the adventurer in me. I love the sight of a major interchange, with underpasses and overpasses cutting through the sky, shuttling us around in our little pods. This is industrial art on a most massive scale. (And I swear, I wrote this post hours before someone turned me on to this fabulous Field Guide to Freeway Interchanges.)
A long-distance drive on the Interstate system is the best way to comprehend the size of America and her spectacular geography. It’s like time-lapse photography, revealing how the hills of the East relax into the plains, which then start furrowing like a worried brow before the ground heaves and the Rocky Mountains burst from its crust. Then the ground flattens again and parches before we reach the jagged western edge of the nation.
I’ll never forget my first cross-country drive with a couple of friends when, after days driving past hypnotic corn fields, we spotted the first, barely discernible purple glimmers of the Rockies in the distance. “I’ve always wondered,” one friend mused, “how the pioneers must have felt after weeks and weeks slogging across the prairies, then seeing ... that.” Ah, but we can cut right through those mountains lickety-split if we choose, on the Interstate. The Interstates go underground and over water, along the coast and through the desert. They take us from city to town to the middle of nowhere and back again. (Interstate trivia: The longest route in the system is I-90 from Seattle to Boston, I learned on the government website about the system.)
Of course, for an intimate experience with America, you have to get off the main drag. But for a broad view, a bold view of everything America has, of her scale and breadth and splendor, we have our broad, bold, splendid Interstates. God bless em.
Eva Holland 05.20.09 | 4:29 PM ET
Thanks for this post, Sophia—I have a whole new appreciation for the Interstate.
Sophia Dembling 05.20.09 | 6:02 PM ET
It just takes a bit of an attitude adjustment to love it, I think. See it through fresh eyes.
Chris 05.20.09 | 9:53 PM ET
I’ve loved the Interstate system since I was old enough to drive. I love the logic of the numbering system (odds go north-south, evens go east-west), the mile markers (count up going east or north), and the funny rules that come from the Cold War era design (like you have to have one mile of straightaway for every nine miles of Interstate, so you can use them as makeshift airfields when the Russians nuke us). I’m also a big fan of the reference book The Next Exit.
Dan 05.20.09 | 10:08 PM ET
The interstates have their place, and in more populated parts of the country, they may be the only way to actually see the scenery of an area unencumbered by the tide of humanity. The simple fact that interstates are limited access highways means the scenery along these roads is more natural. You don’t spend your time driving by mailboxes, abandoned buildings, gas stations, etc. I love America’s two lane roads more than the interstates (does that make me a snob?), but it is frustrating at times to drive between cities and never get away from human development.With that said, when you’ve seen one exit off an interstate, you’ve seen them all. Two lane highways offer a better chance to get off the beaten track and eat local foods and see the character of a place.
Sophia Dembling 05.20.09 | 11:27 PM ET
Sure, Dan. What I’m saying is that Interstates give you the big picture. Meandering and exploring is much better done on the smaller roads. But I love the thrill of an Interstate anyway; I don’t think they’re the scourge of the nation, as some people do.
Chris, I’ll have to look for that book, I’ve never seen it.
Ted 05.21.09 | 10:24 AM ET
I was just looking at an old road atlas of mine with all the interstates I’ve driven highlighted in red. Nothing makes me want to hit the highway like seeing the 10, I-80, and I-90, in bold red stripes from coast to coast. So many truckstops, and so little time…also check out a book by Larry McMurtry called Roads..its a good road book by a great writer.
Chris 05.21.09 | 2:25 PM ET
http://www.amazon.com/Next-Exit-2009-Mark-Watson/dp/0971407371/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1242930175&sr=8-1
There is a hilarious “review” from a dissatisfied user somewhere on Amazon too. They were distraught because the book only listed the exit numbers going east to west or south to north, and they really wanted a version that went the other direction too. :-)
Sophia Dembling 05.21.09 | 2:58 PM ET
Thanks for the recommendation, Ted. I see I have my summer reading cut out for me. I love McMurtry, too. If you’re interested in Texas at all, In A Narrow Grave is great book of his essays on the state.
Say it ain’t so, Chris! Yikes!
Jenna Schnuer 05.21.09 | 10:40 PM ET
And here I thought I was the only one with love for the I-s. (Hmmm, another reason we’re friends and writing buddies.) Anyway, I always get a little surge of possibility when I hop on the Interstate. Even if going short distances, I love the thought that I could just keep going. Momentary escapism is a wonderful thing, even if the next exit beckons. Nice piece Sophie.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to spend the next 39 hours perusing the Field Guide and other links.
Robert Reid 05.21.09 | 11:41 PM ET
Great stuff. New Jersey could use some better directional signs—I always seem to miss the turn to Philadelphia.
Sophia Dembling 05.22.09 | 8:22 AM ET
See, only on an Interstate can you talk about missing the turn to an entire state.
Robert Reid 05.22.09 | 11:07 AM ET
That Pennsylvania! Ever elusive!
Sophia Dembling 05.22.09 | 11:09 AM ET
That’s how it retains its air of mystery.
Although I realize suddenly that he was talking about a city, not a state. Should never comment before I’ve had seven cups of coffee.
kerry dexter 05.27.09 | 11:19 AM ET
Riding the interstates on a bus comes with its own perspectives. too. Especially the stops, when you go from the sort of zen of riding the highway to stopping and starting through sections of unknown or familiar towns and cities to reach the bus station in the heart of a city or pull up to a stop that may just be a dusty storefront in a small town.
Sophia Dembling 05.27.09 | 11:43 AM ET
Oh yes, Kerry. You’re absolutely right. I started my traveling life on the Greyhound bus and I have vivid memories of those dusty storefront/gas station bus depots. Thanks for reminding me!