"Do you fancy wide open spaces?" Or, finding solace in the passenger seat
A meditation on road trips, open roads, and a particular small town that feels like home
Start with this song, a deep cut for late 90s/early 00s country lovers. Anyone else wonder where SHeDAISY went?
It’s sweet right here in the passenger seat of a pickup truck packed to the gills with road trip snacks, camping gear, bags hastily thrown together (this is why we ALWAYS need more tote bags), too many books to read in the amount of time we’re gone, and a trazzed out1 geriatric pup loopily gazing out the window. Whether it’s an impromptu road trip to Washington wine country or a cross-country road trip to Nik’s hometown in Wisconsin (as we did last summer), I love the wide open spaces especially as seen from a car ride in the country.
Picture the sun shining, the coffee hitting your bloodstream, and the road noise lulling you as passenger into that familiar road trip sensation: not quite nap-inducing (most of the time) and also not particularly energizing (unless you’re driving, of course). Road-trip-passenger-seat haze is a lovely fugue state punctured only by the rustle of the potato chip bag wedged between your hip and the middle console.
Having grown up in the Texas panhandle, an open road does something to my brain chemistry. I inhabit the part of my personality who would hum Wide Open Spaces unironically (no, seriously). It’s the part of me that loves reflecting on place and space, and needs to see only land or water for miles and miles, every now and then, forgoing cityscapes and concrete jungles.
I remember being a kid on road trips to Louisiana to visit my mom’s mom or to New Mexico to escape the summer heat. I would vie for the front seat, even though it was an honor only to me. The reason being my dad was usually driving, and I was the only one who would tolerate his road trip tics. He loved blasting both the A/C and classic rock, though we couldn’t call it classic rock back then because, to him, it was just rock. “Classic” made it feel old and dated. He also went through a phase for a few years where he wanted the whole family to listen to Lonesome Dove via audiobook (back when audiobooks were still on cassette tapes).2 My mom hated the cold of the A/C and my middle sister hated being in the hot seat (Dad’s socratic method was very intense for her introverted sensibilities). My youngest sister wasn’t yet born for this era, so here I was shotgun-seat heir apparent.
In that particular passenger seat, I would nest with the necessary accoutrement: a pillow, blanket, snacks, and a book. I would alternate between guessing which Beatle wrote that song (I loved all the George Harrison ones), snacking on roadside peaches with its juices dripping down my chin, reading whatever Harry Potter tome was out that summer, and napping, of course.
I felt safe. I felt happy. I felt free.
We’re en route to Walla Walla as I write this. I find myself in the passenger seat, again, but breaking out of my nostalgic reverie, I’m a little older than that girl fielding classic rock questions from her dad and debatably wiser, especially in snack choice. Sasquatch Surprise potato chip dust crusting my finger tips. Nik doesn’t drill me with classic rock questions, unfortunately, but I proudly play DJ, snack czar, and dog minder when it’s his turn to drive.
Walla Walla is a personal favorite place for both me and Nik. You heard that right: we’ve been to Kyoto and New Orleans and Paris and Santa Fe and Berlin and New York City and Prague, and Walla Walla is still one of our favorite places.
This trip was impromptu, following several weeks of grueling work calendars and stress and a full dance card on the social front. The very reason we can make this impromptu trip is part of why we love it so much. The main driver, though, is that it takes a 5-hour trek on the open road across this beautiful state to get there by car.
And, we both love it.
For me, Walla Walla is a formidable combo of…
what I love about where I grew up—the friendly people, bustling main street, and a 10 minute drive to anywhere you want to go
what I love to do with my time—galivant from shop to shop, eat great food, and frolic in fields with a wine glass in hand
what I love about Washington—gorgeous land, superior weather, and, of course, THE WINE
AND A ROAD TRIP TO BOOT
But it’s not just Walla Walla that hits these feelings. The open road, open landscapes, and open sky are all baked into my born-and-raised-Texan-turned-PNW-enthusiast DNA. The nostalgia alone is enough to excite me, but the symbolism is powerful too: The open-ended question the road poses. The literal endless possibilities of a full tank of gas. The filtered sun through a pair of aviator sunglasses.
All of it is a balm to the static white noise of daily life—a removal from the demands of work and stress of obligations. There’s a reason we have songs like The Chicks’ Wide Open Spaces, SHeDAISY’s Passenger Seat, and, rounding out a trio (you saw that coming), Tom Petty’s Runnin’ Down A Dream. The open road and stretching land inspires and soothes. It promises more on the horizon, if you just keep going.
So…do you fancy a drive?
Mini-Travel Guide to Walla Walla
Walla Walla wine, or at least the wineries we haunt, are perfect marriages of old- and new- world styles without the California pretension. There are enough labels in the area putting out gorgeous French-style and pet nat wines to keep this particular wine-drinker VERY happy. Our personal favorites include: Grosgrain Vineyards (for natural, pet nat, and generally more off-beat wines), Rôtie Cellars (for dialed-in minerality and “Rocks district” focus), Sleight of Hand Cellars (for low intervention wines and music lovers), Brook & Bull (woman owned and gorgeous French style wines), and Dillon Cellars (a smaller outfit with beautiful old-world wines).
The restaurants are surprisingly elevated for such a small, remote town. My personal favorite, and I spot I’ve hit every time we’ve visited Walla Walla, is Hattaway’s on Alder. I’ve celebrated three birthdays there, and we have a reservation for this trip. The food is delicious—they have this parmesan celery salad with hazelnuts that I keep meaning to try to recreate. For breakfast options, there are many to choose from, and I love both Walla Walla Bread Co or Bacon & Eggs. Street tacos and margs at AK’s Mercado, or wings and a beer at Wingman Birdz + Brewz, will satisfy any lunch or chill dinner craving.
The shopping is lovely too, and I could list a dozen. For today, though, I’ll just highlight two: The Thief Fine Wine & Beer, which is a lovely bottle shop we stumbled into during our first trip to Walla Walla only to later find out a friend of ours knew the owner from college! And, 35th + Butter, which is a delightful boutique with homewares, jewelry, clothing, and other accessories.
For fun, a snippet of lyrics from Passenger Seat by SHeDAISY:
Passenger side I slide on in
Vinyl seats soft from the heat of the sun
Chewin’ on a slim jim, can’t stop thinkin’ about him
Yeah, yeah, yeah, he's the one
Ooh, life’s so sweet right here in the passenger seat
Ooh, yeah, life’s so sweet
When I look to my left, see his suntan hands
His muddy river hair and thousand acre plans
I'm all shook up like a quarter in a can
Ain't life sweet from the passenger seat
I daydream of me and a
Cold cotton pillow and the feel of his skin
The window sill smiles and before I know it I'm miles
Away sittin’ next to him
Miles away sittin’ next to him
Ooh, life's so sweet right here in the passenger seat
Ooh, yeah, life's so sweet
When I look to my left, see his suntan hands
His muddy river hair and thousand acre plans
I'm all shook up like a quarter in a can
Ain't life sweet from the passenger seat
Shiftin' those gears baby one, two, three
Then he shifts those ocean eyes back to me
Can't imagine a moment any better than this
Then we kiss
Afton takes veterinarian prescribed trazadone for his car anxiety. A sentence to file under “only things dog-obsessed millennial women say.” He’s a goofy baby on the meds, but it at least helps him sleep versus anxiously standing in the backseat and drooling down our shoulders the entire trip.
This is probably where I get my penchant for listening to classics on audio. Larry McMurtry’s 1985 epic adventure was 36+ hours long. I remember listening all the way through TWICE for context of how much we road tripped when I was a kid.
omg shedaisy!?!?! thank you for reminding me they existed.
I’ve heard so much about Walla Wall wine country! I’ve been thinking about going sometime, so thanks for the recommendations. I notice your photos are all from visiting in May. Is this because the weather gets too hot during the summer?