There's a highway that takes you from central Louisiana to south Louisiana, a highway that I've driven more times than I can remember. I can tell you which bathroom smells the best. I can clue you in to where the police are hidden just waiting to pull you over. I know which gas stations have Starbucks Frappucino drinks, and which only have Red Bull.
Usually this highway is a means to an end; just another leg of a long, boring drive. But this time, in our rental car that smelled of stale smoke and a desperate whiff of "new car smell" air freshener, we decided to treat it like a proper road trip.
Which, let's be honest, just means that I took out my camera.
Rule #1 of road trips: you don't choose your road trip music... it chooses you.
These abandoned FEMA trailers have been sitting on the side of the highway for years.
Good sunglasses are a must. Many thanks to Y's dad for donating these slightly used (read: have been run over by a lawnmower) Ray Ban wayfarers.
Sugarcane fields as far as the eye can see.
My road trip partner in crime -- we've driven across the country together twice (and then some) and still kind of like each other.