I guess I have always been a lonely kid. Not that I’ve found much wrong with it, but most of my time as a child was spent either by myself or in small groups with close friends. Through high school and college this trend continued.

So for my final spring break, I decided to stick with what I know best — taking a road trip with only myself as company. I decided on a round trip to Washington, up to New York City and then back home.

The experience was mixed. When it came to the driving, I can’t highly recommend to people to go 2,000 miles with only your CDs as your companions. Needless to say, I have a newfound respect for truckers. If a few days were exhausting for me, imagine what it does to them over the years.

But, after exhausting half of my distance solo, I crashed on a friend’s couch in D.C. and it was nice to have human interaction. I also got to see my hometown again — the Washington Monument, the Smithsonian Museums, the Capitol. I guess the town’s so amazing to me because I feel a strong connection to it. That is, until I had to drive around.

Apparently, some stuffed-shirt French guy designed the layout of the town. I guess no one told him about right angles — every intersection in that town seems to connect six different streets into one big circle. The lanes were almost too narrow for my compact car. If anarchy was part of this Frenchie’s plan, he nearly succeeded.

It was a sigh of relief when I got to New York City. Things seemed to make sense there — streets went north and south or east and west. The intersections had only four ways with clearly marked signs. I bless the people who designed Manhattan.

After checking into my hotel, I walked around the city — and walked and walked. In fact, of my 48 hours in this town, I was either sleeping, riding the subway or walking. And what a city to walk around.

By this point, I know many other people would find it ridiculous to go by themselves. But somehow, being alone made the trip feel more intimate, more personal. I missed the interaction with people I know, but I met some new faces while I was there.

There were the two sisters from somewhere in Asia who I helped use a public pay phone. There was a couple from Germany I met at Nathan’s on Coney Island who were trying to order water by saying “Hot-tuh.” There was the homeless thirteen-year-old kid who was begging on Broadway, who made me wish I had done more than just give him some change.

And for only being in the city for two days on an extremely tight budget, I sure got my fair share of experiences. I got accosted by drug dealers in Central Park, yelled at in at least four different languages and took part in a subway breakdown with about 10,000 other people.

But, of course, I could have done this entire trip with at least one other person.

Looking back, I’m glad I was on my own the entire trip. Parts were good, parts were bad and parts were lonely, but now I have all those thoughts and memories in private storage.

I recommend to anyone reading this to take a trip by themselves.

Go away for a week, don’t talk to anyone you know and see what happens. If Thoreau can go out into nature and come back with “Walden,” imagine what masterpiece you’ll find.