The summer after Sophomore year my boy scout troop hit the road. We headed west through the Dakotas, cruising for miles in a white Escalade. It was a seasoned vehicle requiring us to hit the dials on occasion to get them to work again. When I reminisce on this adventure a song begins to play in the background, a song that overlays the montage of events as I relive them in my head. The song that embodied the experience is Running on empty by Jackson Browne.

As Jackson says so dominantly in the song, I too was coming up on 17. As the time of freedom and no responsibilities dwindled, the trip was a much needed moment to clear my head. The film-esque line of “running into the sun” came alive as we chased it, hoping it would never set. The trip to me is titled “the tour of the west.” My troop dotted between national parks seeing such beautiful parts of the country that I hope others pursue as well. The trip had another equally meaningful part of the equation for me. This trip resembled one I had taken with my grandparents years before, and as the miles passed I saw now what I had seen then in a new light, and the memories that had faded were re-saturated with fresh paint that brought a full feeling in me. Songs like Running on Empty can hold so much more than notes and lyrics. The memories and feelings of my life’s journey are contained in those chords and melodies, the strums awaken buried memories that only last as long as the song. The trip may be behind me, but the frames in my brain ignite before Jackson even says “I can get you to smile before I leave.”