I love teenagers. I really do. Give me a teenager over a newborn any day of the week. I know babies are magical, and they are darling when sleeping, but I find them to be well… a bit boring. Show me an experience, any experience, with a teenager that could be characterized as boring? Impossible. Terrifying. Mystifying. Trying. Thrilling. Dizzying. I still prefer that drama compared to infant drama.
So due to my love of teenagers and my penchant for harebrained road trip plans, I found myself on a 1550 mile road trip with my 16 year-old son and two of his friends for “spring break.” Before we left, a few people told me I must be crazy to take this on. But I paid no attention to the naysayers because this isn’t even close to the worst idea I’ve had.
Spring break in Minnesota is a time when many people leave the state to refamiliarize themselves with the giant warm orb in the sky others in the US take for granted. Sure, traveling to Florida or Mexico or California makes perfect sense to break up a long Minnesota winter. But where did we go? America’s best-kept secret spring break destination: Louisville, Kentucky.
I admit I had to look up how far it was to Louisville, Kentucky. It’s 10 and a half hours. Longer with boys who need snacks every ninety minutes. And why on earth would one travel to Kentucky in March? College lacrosse games, of course. I had a car full of high school lacrosse players who wanted to see college games. Because the only thing better than lacrosse for these three is more lacrosse interspersed with fast food and doughnut stops. And oddly, I kind of feel the same. I have grown to truly love the game.
We stopped in Madison, Wisconsin, and stayed overnight. We went to the closest burger place to our hotel, and the stars somehow aligned because they had food but also pool tables. The boys played pool alongside college kids and even invited me to play. I’m terrible, and my son was legitimately surprised by how badly I play as if I had been hiding my pool shark skills from him his whole life. When we paid, the cheerful bartender told me that they were the most polite and respectful teenagers he had ever served. I beamed. He followed it up with what an awful teenager he had been. We agreed, adolescence is tough on everyone involved.
In Kentucky, we watched the University of Utah beat Bellarmine University in a close game on a stunning campus. I was cheering for both teams, which is pretty unpopular in the stands. It was a balmy 81 degrees, and I burned my left arm. That made it feel very spring breaky. We followed it up with a game in Iowa where we watched Iowa State versus Purdue in 34 degrees and rain. I lost sensation in my feet. That made it feel like we were on our way home.
Car conversations ran from Clash Royale to lacrosse stats to snack preferences, and in the background, an impressive music playlist blared that included John Denver, Coldplay, the Bee Gees, and a gentleman named BigXthaPlug, who I was not familiar with. I can really comfortably recommend not including BigXthaPlug during a family car ride.
When we rolled into the driveway, I was fried. Speaking of fried, I really was looking forward to eating a salad. I couldn’t wait to get out of the car, AND I’m the shortest passenger by five inches. I could only imagine how they felt. One of the boys let out a long sigh and said, “Well, where do you think we should go next year?”
And so perhaps I am crazy, but this stage lasts for a blink. Half a blink. The boys, these young men will soon be fully fledged men all too soon. They’ll have careers and relationships and responsibilities and wins and losses. Adulthood comes for us all far too quickly. If you get a chance to hang out with the young men in your life, jump at the chance. Meet them where they are and go where they want to go. Somewhere on the open road. It will remind you when so much was ahead and it was all possibilities.
Jen Fortner is a freelance writer who enjoys asking friends and strangers far too many questions. She spends her spare time sitting in inclement weather watching youth sports, traveling, cooking, and searching for the very best baked goods. She lives in the Southwest Metro with her husband, three children and the most spoiled dog.