Buckle Up: A College Road Trip Memoir

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Buckle Up

A College Road Trip Memoir

By Michaela Frantz

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Text Copyright © 2016 Michaela Frantz

All Rights Reserved

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This book is dedicated to all the strangers that have let me jump in their cars, often at the last minute. I wouldn’t have these

great stories without your willingness to get me where I need to go (although let’s be real, you

probably just did it for the gas money).

Shout out to my fam, because they are the ones who get texts really last minute about

where to pick me up and they also probably worry about whether I’ll be home in one piece.

This book is also dedicated to my fabulous friends who eagerly listen to my accounts of my latest adventures. This

includes, but is not limited to, middle-of-the-night texts about getting pulled over or a last

minute will just in case I don’t make it out alive. You guys are the reason this book exists. Special shout out to Julia and Kristina for

editing this book and to Kaitlin for taking the cover photo.

And most of all, this book is dedicated to the Almighty God I serve. He and I have gotten

so much closer on these harrowing adventures, and I know for a fact I wouldn’t still be on this earth without His divine intervention.

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Table of Contents

Preface………………………….7

Round 1…………………………9

Round 2…………………………13

Round 3…………………………18

Round 4…………………………21

Round 5…………………………26

Round 6…………………………35

Pit Stop………………………….41

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Preface

College students are known for many

things, one of which is their affinity for road

trips of all kinds. Everyone can remember

jumping into a sedan with a bunch of people to

drive through the night, only stopping for gas

and, if it’s a really good day, fast food.

I grew up as a missionary kid, which for

me means that I grew up learning to be

resourceful and scrappy. The combination of

this background with my current stage of life

means that I am fully ready to do whatever I

need to do in order to get where I need to go.

This combination also provides an opportunity

for some wild adventures and some fantastic

stories.

It all started when my mom got a

speeding ticket on our first trip down to Liberty

University, where I attend school. We had not

yet learned that the police departments of West

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Virginia and Virginia are strapped for cash, and

they patrol those hilly highways like it’s their job

(oh wait…). Soon thereafter, we got stuck

behind a painfully slow white van, also full of a

family dropping someone off at college, on a

winding, narrow parkway. From there, it was all

downhill (in more ways than one).

I hope you are able to enjoy these

stories as much as I have enjoyed living them

and telling them to my loved ones.

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Round One

I was so sure that I wasn’t going to go

home for Fall Break my freshman year. I had

decided that only wimps went home six weeks

after the first day of class, and I was

determined to let my roots sink down deep the

soil of my campus on the mountain. But then I

realized all of my friends were going home, and

I was definitely feeling homesick. I knew of a

few girls on my hall who would be going right

near my hometown, so I asked if I could join

them. We were going to leave a day early and

drive through the night, which I had never done

before, but I had confidence that they knew

what they were doing.

We hit the road on a Tuesday afternoon,

heading into the sunset. I was as excited as

any college freshman would be to go home for

the first time. That is, until I realized the driver

was snapchatting while navigating the car

around hairpin turns at speeds that were

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probably above the legal limit. I tried to tell

myself, “This is just what college kids do!”, but

that didn’t slow down my heartbeat.

A few hours into the drive, one of the

girls, Carley, found out that she couldn’t stay at

her sister’s house until the morning as she had

planned. Since she wanted to surprise her

family, we had to find a way to kill time until we

could drop her off at her parents’ house when

they woke up.

This created a bit of drama, because

there aren’t exactly a lot of places to just hang

out and wait in the middle of the night. I also

got nervous because I knew my dad needed to

know the plan before he went to sleep, or else

he would wake up to leave way too early. After

we dropped one girl off in Ohio, we began to

figure out a plan. The other two girls, Carley

and Brittani decided that we would stop at

Brittani’s friend’s house to sleep for a bit until

we could head to Carley’s house.

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We were driving on back roads in the

middle of the night and my job was to navigate

and to keep the driver awake (this has since

become a theme in my life). It’s amazing the

kinds of deep conversations you will have

when you’re extremely sleep-deprived and

simultaneously very excited.

We only ended up getting to sleep for an

hour, which meant that I felt much worse when

I woke up than when I fell asleep. At that point,

all that mattered was getting home. We met my

dad in a Walmart parking lot and I practically

knocked him over in my excitement. The still-

fresh memory of him sobbing in the driveway

as I pulled away six weeks prior made that

moment extra special. We sped home, hoping

to catch my siblings by surprise before they left

for school, since they thought I was coming

home the next day. I walked in the door as my

brother was grabbing breakfast and the look of

confusion on his face was priceless. We all

hugged and my siblings barely had time to

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process the surprise before they had to head

out the door to school.

After they left, I promptly passed out and

then proceeded to have one of the best

weekends of my life. Here’s to hopping in cars

with upperclassmen and driving through the

night!

We sure know how to make use of space!

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Round Two

This book would not be complete

without mentioning bus rides from Louisville to

Chicago as the last leg of a few of my journeys

home. I have a couple of friends who live in

Louisville, so sometimes it makes sense to ride

with them and then catch a Megabus the rest

of the way. While I love riding with my friends, I

am not a big fan of the whole bus experience.

It often involves waiting in the cold, listening to

very passionate dissatisfied passengers, and

sitting in uncomfortably close quarters for long

periods of time.

The first time I attempted taking the bus,

it was a great experience. Once my friends and

I finally found the poorly marked bus stop in the

middle of downtown Louisville, that is. The guy

I sat next to was fantastic--a dream seatmate.

We were able to talk about God and how He

has led our lives, and he offered suggestions

for where my dad might be able to find a job.

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We were also content to have our own quiet

time, which I needed at the end of the

seemingly infinite travel day. This experience

tricked me into thinking it would always go that

smoothly. Ha.

The best, and worst, story I have from

the bus happened last year. The way the bus

route is designed, we stopped just outside of

Louisville. This seemed weird to me, because

at that point we had only been driving for 20

minutes, but what do I know? At a huge truck

stop we all got out and tried to take advantage

of our only chance to eat and pee before the 6

hour ride began.

The girl sitting next to me seemed

agitated. She was on the phone and apparently

was talking to her boyfriend, wishing she didn’t

have to leave. When we got back on the bus at

the end of the break, she was no longer sitting

next to me. The bus driver got on the

loudspeaker and said, “If someone sitting by

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you isn’t here, this is your chance to let me

know, otherwise we’re leaving!”

My heart started to pound as I glanced

around, thinking maybe she had just moved to

a different seat. The words “My seatmate’s not

here!!!!” caught in my throat and before I knew

it, we were pulling out of the rest stop.

Fortunately, I had the next 6 hours to fully let

the guilt and anxiety settle in and set up shop. I

kept wondering if she ever made it to her

destination or whether she was still stuck at

that truck stop, 20 minutes away from where

we had begun, all because I was a chicken. I

prayed and prayed that she was okay and that

she wouldn’t hunt me down and kill me.

That experience alone was enough to

turn me off to the whole Megabus experience,

but I had another interesting ride that really

sealed the deal for me. I get really anxious

when I ride public transportation because I

desire to be outgoing and get to know the

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people I sit with, but it can also be extremely

awkward. I always have to give myself a pep-

talk about how whoever sits next to me is

another valuable human being and it’s a good

opportunity to be kind and interested in their

life. I do my best to put myself out there, even if

it’s uncomfortable.

On this particular ride, I got on the bus

and sat down next to a girl who had taken the

window seat. I think I tried to say hi, but she

barely acknowledged my existence. She sat

there with her hood up and headphones in,

staring straight ahead the entire time. The only

time she spoke was to let me know she

needed to get off at her stop. Talk about

awkward seatmate situations! Thankfully, it

didn’t completely scar me and I still try to at

least be friendly to the people I sit next to.

Public transportation isn’t a normal part

of my current stage of life, but when it is, I

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definitely get some great story material out of

my experiences.

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Round Three

At the end of Thanksgiving break my

freshman year, I rode back to school with a guy

in my brother dorm and his sister. Less than

twelve hours before we were supposed to

leave, I started to panic because he had not

gotten back to me about where and when to

meet them. He finally responded, so my dad

and I left for their house bright and early.

I should have known it was going to be

a long day when I saw that they had stashed a

whole day’s worth of food in their arm rest

compartment. Apparently they were from one

of those families where you avoid stopping at

all costs. Three hours into the drive, they

decided to switch drivers. They went back and

forth deciding whether they should pull into the

shoulder, and their conclusion was that they

could switch while driving. WHILE DRIVING! At

eighty miles an hour down the highway! I

proceeded to watch in horror as one held the

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steering wheel while they climbed over each

other. You can’t make this stuff up.

Everyone knows that the weekend after

Thanksgiving is the busiest time to road trip,

and once we got to West Virginia, we hit some

nasty traffic. Our driver kept turning his head to

the right and to the left, even though we were

stopping and going quite a bit. I knew exactly

what was going to happen seconds before it

actually did, and I watched it unfold in slow

motion. We rear-ended the SUV in front of us.

Both cars pulled into the shoulder, and the

driver of the SUV got out to survey the scene.

We hit his trailer hitch, so the only damage was

to our car. He still wanted a police report just in

case, so we proceeded to wait a good half an

hour until a police car could get to us.

By the time we hit the stretch of windy,

narrow roads near the end of the trip, it was

late at night and we were very low on gas. The

sister was driving and she took the turns a bit

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too fast, probably because we were all antsy to

get home. I began to picture us stuck in the

middle of the mountains with an empty gas

tank and the thought was not comforting in the

least. We FINALLY stumbled upon a tiny gas

station in a town you would miss if you blinked

as you drove past.

Needless to say, I was incredibly

relieved when that ride came to an end.

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Round Four

The most life-threatening journey (so

far) took place over Spring Break of my

sophomore year. I was planning to ride with

two other girls from the Midwest in a rented

sedan, and things were looking good. I walked

out of my last class an hour before we were

going to leave, and I was surprised to see

snowflakes in the air. I packed up my things,

got in the car, and looked forward to soon

being home sweet home. Unfortunately, we

spent the next hour trying to get off campus

due to accidents and the fact that everyone

and their mother were trying to leave campus

at the same time.

I soon realized that we were headed into

the mountains, in the dark, in the middle of a

blizzard. I requested that we pull over and

figure out whether this was a wise decision or

not. After consulting parents and other

students heading home, we decided to at least

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try. My one condition was that we could

definitely NOT take the Blue Ridge Parkway, a

dangerously windy two-lane road through the

mountains. With the help of my trusty Maps

app, I skillfully guided us a different way. Then

my phone decided to take us on a one lane,

unplowed residential road for a few miles. That

was the first time we almost slipped off the

road into a ditch. Had I known there would be

more close calls, I probably would have

jumped out of the car right then and there.

The roads would be really bad for a

while, and then they would clear up and I

would sigh with relief, thinking we were past

the worst of it. Then, it would get even worse

than it had been before and I would resume my

white-knuckle grip on the door handle and my

desperate pleas to God that we would live

through the night. The girls in the front were

calm, cool and collected. Needless to say, I

was not.

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As it got darker outside, my stress level

continued to rise on the inside. We were

driving on mountain roads with semi-trucks as

our only companions. At one point we were on

a two-lane road with lots of other cars and I

knew that if we slipped even a tiny bit, we were

probably toast. I made multiple pleas to stop

and get a motel room for the night, arguing that

it was not wise to risk our lives over a few

hundred dollars. They considered it a couple of

times, but we kept going. According to my

count, the final tally of times that we almost

died was four. That’s exactly four too many for

my taste.

Around midnight, after we had been

driving for ten hours, we had finally escaped

the snowstorm. We stopped so that the other

two girls could eat, and I made the incredibly

providential decision to invest in coffee and

chocolate. Upon returning to the car, I was

informed that it was my turn to keep the driver

awake. The next hours consisted of me on an

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adrenaline and caffeine high, chatting a million

miles a minute with the driver in hopes of

keeping us all alive. It’s amazing the

conversations you can have with a near-

stranger while driving through the night.

We dropped one girl off about six hours

later, thinking we were so close to where were

going to meet our parents. The very thought of

arriving at our destination was all we needed to

keep us going. Until…we hit morning rush hour

traffic in Chicago. We were horrified. It got to

the point where we were giving each other

multiplication problems as I physically held my

eyelids open because we were so tired and so

done. It didn’t help that we went to the wrong

place and had to figure out how to get to the

other side of the highway. When we finally

pulled into a parking space, we both exhaled

and laughed at the absurdity we had just

experienced. I told her that I felt like we were

war veterans, bonded forever by the obstacles

we had faced and overcome.

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I practically collapsed in my dad’s arms

as the caffeine, sugar and adrenaline wore off

all at once and I was left exhausted and with

low blood sugar. I had never been so happy to

see him in all my life. When I walked in the

door at home, I grabbed a cookie that was

sitting on the counter, shoved it in my face,

chugged some water and headed to the

basement where I planned to crash for a very

long time.

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Round Five

Not all of my road trips have been with

crazy strangers or close friends. Some of them

have consisted of just me, a borrowed car, tons

of snacks and the open road. The first solo

road trip I took happened during freshman

year. I was dying to see Rend Collective open

for Kari Jobe in Northern Virginia, and I had

convinced a friend to drive up with me for the

concert and then stay at my distant relative’s

house in Richmond. I had never met this

relative, but that didn’t faze me one bit. I was

determined to see my favorite band.

The day of the concert, I woke to a text

from my friend saying she couldn’t go after all

due to a work conflict. The air quickly deflated

from my balloon of excitement and I

immediately went into problem-solving mode.

At one point I was furiously typing a

paper that was due in the class I was skipping

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so that my friend could turn it in for me, while

also waiting on a text from another friend about

whether I could borrow her car for the night. I

ended up getting the green light from that dear

girl in just enough time for me to leave and

drive four hours and make it to the concert. I

even had time to use my Chipotle gift card for

dinner.

I literally spent $80 on gas to sit in an

auditorium and hear Rend Collective play five

songs, just to drive another two hours and get

a wink of sleep before driving the rest of the

way back for my 8:50 class the next morning. I

was a stubborn freshman, there’s no doubt

about it. It was way more fun to go on a

spontaneous road trip with two friend a few

months later to see Rend Collective again and

make a lot of memories together along the

way.

When my cousin got stationed in

Charleston last May, I was ecstatic because

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that meant I would get to visit one of my

favorite people in one of the best cities on the

east coast. While he was still in boot camp, I

planned a whole camping trip with friends to go

visit him. I picked out a cabin, planned the

meals and I was PUMPED. One by one,

friends dropped out and a couple of days

before the trip, the one friend left standing told

me she couldn’t go either. This presented a big

problem because we were going to drive her

car (this seems to be a theme…).

I scrambled once again to find a car to

borrow and see if I could pull this trip off,

despite the odds. I contacted my friend from

freshman year who had allowed me to borrow

her car before and she said I could take it to

Charleston for the weekend. Since my friend

who was going with me had to cancel last

minute, she offered to still make the

reservation for the campground cabin we were

planning to stay in, so that solved the problem

of where I would stay overnight.

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The last piece of the puzzle I needed to

figure out was where to stay on the other two

nights of the trip. I had previously traveled

down to Columbia, SC (which is an hour and a

half from Charleston) with a friend when she

needed her license renewed. I asked her on a

whim if perhaps I could stay at her house on

my way down and on my way back, even

though she wouldn’t be there. She quickly

responded that her parents would love to have

me and that it would be no problem at all. I

even ended up dog-sitting for them on one of

the nights since they were also out of town!

The ways these trips come together are always

so wild, but I guess sometimes you just have to

think outside the box!

On my way down, I decided to stop in a

park for a walk and some reading. I also chose

go out of my way to stop at a French bakery in

Charlotte, because I had heard so much about

how cute it was. Honestly, it was a charming

cafe, but I started to realize that sometimes

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adventures just aren’t as fun when you’re by

yourself.

Awkward self-timer pictures ftw

I was able to enjoy my visit with my

cousin, trying to see as much of the town as

we could in just a couple of days. Right before I

was going to head back to school I decided to

stop at Auto Zone since the “check engine”

light had been on for a while. I was terrified that

it would be something dangerous, but

thankfully I was still able to drive the car back

safely.

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Making the most of a windy day

Another fun fact about me is that I love

to follow blogs, especially those by young

entrepreneurs and moms, and I often follow my

favorite bloggers on Instagram as well. I have

long dreamed of meeting some of these

women in real life, and when I realized that a

handful of them live within a few hours of my

college, I began to brainstorm. I had reached

out to a few ladies when I started planning my

trip, and I had made a definite plan to visit the

church where one of the women is a pastor’s

wife.

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Sunday morning, I drove into the city by

myself, hoping to arrive early so I could chat

with Jess and her family before church started.

I felt a little bit awkward, because I had kind of

assumed that since I had told her I was

coming, that it would be natural to introduce

myself and have a conversation. But it wasn’t. I

felt like a stalker, waiting for her to have a free

moment and then telling her who I was. Our

conversation was short and nothing

spectacular, but it was a good lesson that

putting people on a pedestal is not really worth

the time and energy. It’s more effective to just

invest in the people that are already around

you.

I had also planned a picnic with another

blogger in Charlotte on my way back from

Charleston. In order to pull this off, I stayed for

a while in Columbia (at the college where my

friend’s mom works) to work on homework so

that I would reach Charlotte at the right time.

The family I was going to meet was also on the

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road, heading home from a trip of their own.

They ended up hitting traffic, but we still arrived

at their house at the same time. I got to meet

the mom, her husband and her three children

and got to tour her shop. We talked about life

and various things we have learned along the

way and it was just a fun little bonus to my

adventure!

Of course, we had to snap a picture!

My second trip to Charleston was in

October of my junior year for my cousin’s

wedding and graduation. I had texted him the

week before asking him when he was

graduating and if he wanted me to come, and

he responded, “It’s next Friday and I’m also

getting married that day so if you could come

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that’d be great”. Talk about a two-by-four to the

head. My friend offered her car minutes later

and I asked if I could stay in the hotel with my

aunt, which she agreed to.

The most eventful part of that road trip

was leaving for home a little later than I had

planned and trying to race back in time to meet

my friends in the mountains for a hike. Despite

my best efforts, my plans kept deteriorating

and I had to keep telling them I was going to be

later than I had thought. I hadn’t stopped for

food at all in my hustle, and by the time I

walked into my dorm, I was in bad shape.

I walked into my friends’ room, sat down

with my head between my knees, and had to

immediately walk out to get food before I

fainted. They, being the good friends that they

are, were incredibly concerned and they

proceeded to bring me every type of food they

could think of. I think the chocolate syrup on a

spoon is what really did the trick.

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Round 6

Moriah is one of my best friends and my

trusted road trip buddy. She and I have now

logged thousands of miles in the car together,

mostly on trips to North Carolina. On one of our

first solo trips together, we headed down to

Chapel Hill to visit her grandpa in the hospital

after his surgery. I offered to drive her down

since she didn’t have a license. We left on a

Friday evening and drove to her aunt’s house,

only stopping at a sketchy gas station along

the way, and discussing all the latest

developments in her ever-exciting love life.

We REALLY love road trips

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Now, I need to explain that my close

friends know I can often carry high

expectations, especially when it comes to

weekends away. I have been known for

becoming extremely disappointed when things

don’t go my way. The last time I had gone

home with Moriah, I had been a major brat,

disappointed that we hadn’t done all the most

exciting things I had pictured in my head. I had

told Moriah that I didn’t expect anything from

this weekend in the hospital, but my reputation

preceded my (mostly) heartfelt words.

We visited her grandparents in the

hospital on Saturday morning and I came

prepared with books to occupy myself for the

day. However, we were soon on our way back

out the door with Grandma Betty in search of

lunch and donuts. After some exploring, we

brought Grandaddy a treat and checked up on

him. Once again, Moriah and I were soon

headed back out the door to Plato’s closet and

the camp where she had worked one summer.

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From my perspective, Moriah was

planning these activities because she wanted

to do them. From her perspective, she was

trying to entertain me and make sure I was

having fun, while also trying to spend time with

her grandparents.

After a stressful attempt to find some

dinner and bring it back to the hospital, we

decided to head back to Aunt Jenny’s for the

night. I had decided to visit a church 45

minutes away where an old family friend led

worship the next morning, so I dropped Moriah

off at the hospital before I went on my way. I

had also told Moriah I wanted to attend the

women’s soccer conference championship

since a few of the girls in my small group were

on the team. She had agreed, so after church I

picked her up and we headed to the game.

We already had the building tension

from the different expectations we each had for

the weekend. I was slightly drunk on kombucha

(a fermented tea drink full of probiotics that has

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an almost negligible alcohol content) and

neither of us had eaten much since breakfast.

We both get extremely hangry if we don’t

consume protein at regular intervals, so this

was dangerous territory.

I picked up Chipotle on the way, but

Moriah didn’t want any. When we arrived at the

field right as the game was supposed to start, I

quickly realized that I had wrongly assumed

the location of the game. Enter: skyrocketing

anxiety levels.

When we finally got to the field, I was

extremely eager to get into the bleachers

because I hated feeling like I was missing

something important. We were informed by the

sweet ladies at the table outside the gate that

we needed $5 cash to get in, which neither of

us had. I called my RA, who was already

inside, and she came to lend me the money.

Moriah decided she would rather wait in the

car. I was not too happy about that turn of

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events, but I walked in with my Chipotle, too

frustrated to argue.

I thought my sweet friend just didn’t care

about something that meant a lot to me, when

really she had valid reasons for not coming in

with me. But of course, we didn’t stop to

communicate in a civil way right then. I spent

the game both furious at her and anxious about

the close game. It ended up going into

overtime and a shoot-out, meaning that Moriah

ended up spending more than 2 hours in the

car, still starving.

After the game, a girl asked if she could

ride the two hours home with us and I was

slightly relieved to have a buffer to protect me

from what I knew would be an icy trip. Walking

up to the car was terrifying, but Moriah ended

up moving to the backseat and our new

passenger and I talked the whole time. I

dropped them off and walked across campus

to cool off.

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Thankfully, we were able to talk it all out

a few days later and we both learned a LOT

about ourselves and each other. I have gone

home with her a few times since then, and we

have made some amazing memories.

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Pit Stop

Well, friends, those are the best stories

from my road trips so far. Who knows, maybe

I’ll collect enough to write another volume

someday. In the meantime, thank you so much

for investing in this little creative project of

mine!

THE END

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