Every weekend of every summer growing up, my dad would drive us 90 minutes across the state of New Jersey to Beach Haven, LBI, for sailboat races. As I got older I went from a spectator to crew then to skipper myself, but the whole time I was getting dosed with road trips, often 3 hours of driving within a day, at a frequency that I would now call impressive. Much of that idle time was spent reading, drawing, listening to alternative rock, and looking out the window. In a fleeting, impersonal way, I became very familiar with the Pine Barrens as it sped by.