Welcome to Shunpikers.com!
Shunpiking is a name for the practice of avoiding major highways (especially toll roads, which is what the first turnpikes were) in favor of driving on free secondary roads. Those of us who regularly try to avoid major highways and toll roads call ourselves "shunpikers," because we shun turnpikes.
Shunpiking isn't just about avoiding tolls, however. Shunpikers get to know America in a way that you just can't achieve if you only drive on Interstates. The Interstates were built for speed, but they bypass much of what makes America what it is.
Having been raised in New York City (where the bridge and tunnel tolls have always been exorbitant), I've always tried to avoid paying tolls. But I first became interested in shunpiking as a way of life when I read the book Blue Highways
Since then, I've logged many thousands of miles along secondary roads, and I, too, have come to cherish the experiences I've had. I've seen another side of America, the side that relishes the journey itself instead of being in such a hurry to get it over with. And surprisingly (although in retrospect I suppose it shouldn't be), I've noticed a change in my approach to life itself. My life used to be a race from one destination to another, with the time between counted as being wasted. Now, I treasure the journey we call life.
In my travels I've come across towns so out-of-the-way that one has to wonder who settled them in the first place -- and why. I've come across airports in the middle of nowhere, and have stopped to rent airplanes and see things from a bird's eye view.
I've met people like farmers, trappers, artisans, and old hippies whose lives run on the rhythm of the land, not a wristwatch. One of the most memorable was a Christmas tree farmer in Upstate New York who knew that the trees he planted this year wouldn't be ready for harvest for a decade or more; but what's that to someone who's the third generation of his family to grow Christmas trees for a living?
I've found practically unknown roadside restaurants in the middle of nowhere, but whose food was on a par with the most famous eateries in New York City. I've slept in Mom and Pop motels where Mom served breakfast for all the guests in her kitchen while still dressed in her bathrobe, and would babysit the guests' kids while their parents drove into town to do some shopping. I've worshipped at rural churches so packed that I wondered if everyone in the town was in attendance, followed by fellowship times full of song, food, and friendship.
This is the side of America that you don't experience on the Interstates, where everything is about getting the journey over with as quickly as possible.
One thing I've come to appreciate as a shunpiker is how truly beautiful is this majestic land that we call America. Those of us who live in urban areas often forget that there is a world beyond the borders of our cities; just as we forget in the hustle of our daily lives that life is not a sprint, but a marathon.
Even as someone who tries to get out of the city into Wild America as often as I can, there's a certain feeling of awe that comes over me when I stop at a scenic overpass to view the vastness of what is in front of me -- and then think that what I see is only a tiny slice of this great land God has given us. In my own case, most of my travels are in the Northeast, and especially in my home state of New York. I've spent almost half a century traipsing through this state, and I haven't seen but a fraction of it.
I've also come to the realization that the ultimate in shunpiking is to get out of the car altogether once in a while and travel on foot through the paths and trails that crisscross America. Sometimes this can mean backpacking; but more often it just means pulling over onto a trail head parking area and walking a mile or two into the forest, stopping to peer into a creek and look for frogs, listening to the birds chirping, looking for animal tracks, and otherwise becoming aware of the natural world and our place in it.
But in order to do this, we have to make our itineraries more flexible. That means giving up our fixation with "getting there" on-time" -- wherever "there" is and whatever "on-time" means -- at least when we're traveling for pleasure. Unless you're catching a plane, meeting someone somewhere, or have fixed reservations for lodging, how can you be late when traveling for pleasure?
In the end, life is about the journey. Most of us won't accomplish very great things during our lifetimes. Most of us won't cure cancer, walk on the moon, or write the great American novel. Most of us won't become famous, nor even well-known beyond our own families and friends. Instead, we'll leave this world as quietly as we entered it, and all that will matter is how we used the time God gave us while we were here.
I'm often amused when I come across some people, especially busy professionals, planning their vacations. They remind me of a military general planning an invasion. Everything is planned in great detail, complete with charts detailing their routes, arrival times, planned activities, budgeted expenses, even where they will stop to pee. Although I inwardly laugh at these folks and their plans, there's a sad side to it. They're treating their leisure time as work, which kind of defeats the purpose of taking a vacation in the first place.
Me, I start with my return, and I plan very little in between. I know I have to be back to work by a certain time, so that leg of the journey is pretty well-planned. But in between, all I have is a lot of ideas, along with general notes about places I've researched a bit that seem like they might be fun. But while on the journey, I keep my eyes open for local attractions; and since my itinerary is so loose to begin with, I often stop to check them out. In the process I've come across quite a few treasures, along with a few duds.
No worries, though; that's how life goes, too. Some days are better than others, but we survive all of them except one. In short, shunpiking is about enjoying life; and if you're not already a shunpiker, then we invite you to come along for a ride. (Check out our Shunpikers Forum while you're at it.)
Who knows? You may wind up liking it.