I went on an indefinite road trip mid September, my main destination: Vermont . After packing up camp and taking a quick detour to New Hampshire, I drove to some friends' farm in New York. "I'm thinking about going to the city," I'd told them. "Well, you can't go without us ," they told me. "Fine. But I have things I want to do. You don't have to do them with me, but I will be doing them." "Alright." And so the three of us girls, barely knowing each other in real life, drove for the city, their boyfriends freaking. "We're not sure you should be traveling with this crazy girl. We heard she doesn't wear shoes or a seatbelt." "Don't worry. She's not so crazy in real life." We didn't want to drive into the city tired, so I pulled off at a rest stop about forty-five minutes outside of the city. We piled all of our luggage on the front seats then stretched out side-by-side in the back o