It was the four of us, the open road, and our last summer together. And that’s all the reasoning we needed. So we piled into the minivan, laid out the blankets, turned up the radio, and headed south. 14 hours south to Tennessee, to be exact. We had no real reason to go there, but looking back there’s no way we could have gone anywhere else. From changing drivers every three hours and stopping at every gas station, to drinking the night away and singing Don’t Stop Believing karaoke while Andrew made friends with a homeless lady.. to ZORBING and museums and aquariums and pools and pocket knives, we accomplished a lot in less than a week. We visited Johnny Cash’s grave. We stopped on the side of the road to go swimming in the river. We drank whiskey and threw it right back up. We carved our names in a tree. We bought way too many fireworks. We had food fights and ate at every barbecue, buffet, and bacon joint the eye could see. Because we wanted to, and because we could. We were wild. We were free. We were together for what could have possibly been the last time. And damn did we do it all, kids in the street.