One of the books that was required reading between eighth grade and freshman year was Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck. The famous author’s journey with his full-size poodle was his search for America; the book and the mission struck a chord with me.

I have addressed the highway song of “come hither” in various ways over the years, fueled by the desire to get to know more about the people and places of America via road trip. A lot more adventures have been contemplated than completed.

Almost 50 years ago, I stood in an auto dealership parking lot in southwest Houston, in search of a pickup truck/camper in which I could travel the South with camera, typewriter and make-do darkroom. The vehicle was never purchased, but I have since witnessed the young-man sense of adventure and exploration in my sons as they grew into the men they are today.

What brings this all to mind – this innate desire to explore, engage and encounter – is a type of YouTube channel that my wife and I like to watch:  RVers, typically younger couples and not the retired folks with the half-a-million dollar wheeled castles. Several of our retired neighbors have gotten into road adventures, one with a classic Airstream in tow and the other with an RV camper. I wonder what they are looking for in their journeys.

Steinbeck, Jack Kerouac (On the Road) and William Least Heat-Moon (Blue Highways), shared very different journeys that had similar missions. They were not sightseeing; they were discovering. They did not seek the “scenic views” from which to take photographs, but the people and places that helped them understand the world they lived in, and life itself.

I’m not sure when or to where my wife and I will take to the road, or whether we’ll be going 200 miles or 2000. I don’t think that matters as much as honoring the desire to discover. There is no age limit after which discovering is not important or should be ignored. Road trips work, but so, too, do long walks, books, or looking through a telescope.

I recall an attendee of one of my “Memories to Memoirs” workshops a couple of decades ago. Part of the process was to energize conversations about what is there left to do in life. One older man said, “Nothing. I have done it all. There is nothing left.” I was shocked and replied, “That is unfortunate. You said that you tamed the Colorado River running through the Grand Canyon as a young man, right?” He nodded. “When was the last time you saw the Grand Canyon, not from the perspective of taming it, but from the view of an older, wiser man who sees things through the lens of your experiences?” He had no answer.

There is much to be discovered and understood. Never stop trying in whatever ways you can.