Some roads don't end — they just get in your blood and stay there.
Route 66 was never just a highway. It was a state of mind — the particular restlessness that makes you check your mirrors less than your windshield, that makes you stay one more night in a town you didn't plan to stop in. The road trip was the invention. The destination was secondary. Generations of people understood this instinctively, and they passed it down not as advice but as something you catch, like a fever, the first time the road opens up in front of you.
