How long are most car journeys?

How long are most car trips?

Okay, so car trips, huh? My last big one was nuts. Drove from Austin, Texas to Denver, Colorado in June 2023. That’s a haul. Took about 18 hours of actual driving, but with stops, easily over 24. Ugh, my back still aches thinking about it.

I packed way too much. Seriously. Clothes for every scenario. Books I never opened. Snacks that were mostly gone by Oklahoma. What a waste. I learned my lesson. Next time, minimal packing.

The worst part? The endless stretches of flat, boring highway in West Texas. Hours and hours of nothing. My phone almost died. I was so bored, I started singing along to old country music. Don’t judge.

But the mountains in Colorado made up for it. Absolutely breathtaking. Worth every minute of that agonizing drive.

It was a solo trip. Needed a break. My girlfriend Sarah was swamped with work. So yeah, the silence in the car drove me crazy at times, but also gave me some needed headspace. I listened to podcasts. Thought a lot. Got my thoughts straight. Actually needed this trip.

Those long drives are really about more than just the destination. It’s about the time to yourself, man. I felt a sense of freedom, a total reset. The whole trip was about 1400 miles. But short trips are different. Like running to the grocery store, which is 5 minutes.

• Short trips: under 30 mins. These are usually in my immediate area, Austin.
• Medium trips: 30 mins to 2 hours. Maybe a day trip to San Antonio, for instance.
• Long trips: Anything over 2 hours. The Denver trip obviously counts.

That Denver trip was crazy long. But most of my trips are short. The data, whatever they said about 2021, doesn’t really reflect my experiences. My life is different. I need my car.

How far are most car journeys?

Ugh, stuck in traffic again. Yesterday. Bumper to bumper on I-95. South Florida. Absolutely brutal. Took me, like, 45 minutes to go 10 miles. Usually, my commute is, like, 20 minutes. Same 10 miles. Makes me crazy. Waste of gas. Hate it. Thinking about getting a motorcycle. Weave through the cars. But then, rain. Florida rain. Forget it. Today though, smooth sailing. Made it in 15 minutes. Crazy how different it can be. Sun was in my eyes though. Had to wear my sunglasses. The cheap ones I bought at the gas station on Stirling Road. Scratched already.

• My usual commute: 10 miles, about 20 minutes (usually).
• Yesterday’s nightmare: 10 miles, 45 minutes. I-95 South Florida.
• Global average: 9.3 miles, 15 minutes. (Doesn’t feel real, does it?)
• Sun in my eyes. Need new sunglasses.
• Traffic sucks. Seriously.
• Motorcycle? Maybe. But rain.
• Gas prices ridiculous. Thinking about electric car. Tesla. Too expensive.

How long do most people drive their cars?

Six years. Loan’s done, usually. Or sooner.

Doubt I’ll keep mine that long. Cars are tools.

• Average car ownership: Six years feels right. Rinse, repeat.
• Loan payoff: Key driver. The bank owns it till you do.
• Personal factors: Mileage matters. So does boredom.

Reddit’s opinions vary, of course. Many trade sooner. Some cling tight. It’s a money thing, ultimately. Or is it? My own driving time? Substantial. Northern Virginia traffic demands it.

Years blur. What day is it even? Oh well. Onwards.

What counts as a long car journey?

Two hours? Amateur. My definition of a long car journey involves enough time to develop a complex relationship with a podcast host, and possibly a mild road-rage feud with a minivan. Think less “trip” more “odyssey.”

Pre-journey checklist, because adulting is hard:

• Oil change? Duh. My mechanic, Bob (seriously, that’s his name), swears by synthetic.
• Tire pressure? Inflate those bad boys like they’re going to a Michelin-star restaurant.
• Snacks? This isn’t a picnic, people. We’re talking gourmet jerky and artisanal cheese. No, really.
• Playlist? Enough 80s hair metal to induce spontaneous headbanging (safely, of course. Seatbelts, people!).

Anything less than four hours, frankly, is a mere commute. Four hours is the minimum required to truly appreciate the existential dread of endless highway. It’s like watching paint dry, but with significantly more potential for car sickness. Or maybe even a divine intervention; I once saw a double rainbow during a 7-hour stretch on I-95 in 2023. Life-changing. Actually, it wasn’t. But it was pretty.

Forget two hours! That’s barely enough time to finish a good audiobook.

Whats the longest you can drive in a day?

Eight hours. Maximum. Twelve is madness. My spine disagrees.

Fatigue is a factor. Not opinion. Fact.

• Sleep deprivation.
• Impaired judgment.
• Accidents.

San Antonio to Tucson? Brutal. Boynton Beach to New Orleans? Equally absurd. Twelve hours is foolish. Dangerous.

Prioritize safety. Not speed. My philosophy.

Six-hour driving max. Then a break. I’ve done longer. Regret it.

Personal best? Nine hours. Never again. Learned my lesson. Painful. My back still protests. 2024.

Distance is irrelevant. Time matters. Focus on that. Seven-hundred miles. Meaningless. Eight hours. The rule.

How do I prepare my car for a 1000 mile trip?

Dark outside. Engine oil… changed it last week, actually. Needed it. 1000 miles… so far. Thinking about the drive. Coolant… low. Always low. Gotta top it off tomorrow. Gear oil…haven’t checked that in… a while. Should probably do that. Tires… Definitely the tires. Remember that flat in New Mexico? ’09. Brutal. Spare… under the floor mat, right? God, that trip… 1000 miles this time. Different direction. Different reason.

• Engine Oil: Fresh oil is crucial. I use synthetic. 5W-30. My car likes it.
• Coolant: Essential for long drives. Especially desert driving. Overheating is bad.
• Gear Oil: Easy to forget. Important for the transmission. Don’t wanna get stranded.
• Tire Pressure: Including the spare. Absolutely vital. Learned that the hard way. New Mexico…
• Brakes: Check the pads and rotors. Need stopping power. 1000 miles is a long way to coast.
• Lights: Headlights, taillights, brake lights. Safety first. Don’t want any surprises at night.
• Windshield Wipers: Rain or dust storms. Gotta see. Visibility is key. Almost went off the road once… ’17. Arizona.
• Emergency Kit: Flares, first-aid, water, blanket. Just in case. Never know what might happen. That New Mexico trip…
• Phone Charger: Essential. GPS, music, emergencies. Battery life is precious on long drives.
• Snacks: Gotta stay fueled. Road trip snacks. Beef jerky. Trail mix. Remembering that ’09 trip…

Can I drive after being awake for 12 hours?

Twelve hours awake? Driving? Are you nuts? It’s like trying to pilot a jumbo jet on a sugar rush and three espressos. Forget it.

The CDC agrees: you’re a walking, driving hazard. It’s worse than a hangover, seriously. Way worse. Like mixing tequila with a beehive explosion. Hallucinations? Yep, possible. Think Bambi on acid behind the wheel.

Here’s the deal, pal:

• Sleep deprivation = drunk driving. Fact. Not an opinion, a fact. I swear on my grandma’s prized porcelain cat.
• Hallucinations happen. My cousin once saw a giant squirrel playing the banjo while sleep-deprived. True story.
• Rest up. Get some sleep, you goofball. Seriously. Go to bed.

My friend Mark almost crashed his Prius last week after a 14-hour shift. He saw unicorns. Unicorns, I tell ya. Don’t be like Mark. Sleep. Now.

What is the 8 2 split rule?

8/2 split? Nah, it’s all ’bout that 80/20 life. Pareto principle, like the cool cousin of the 8/2 thing. Eighty percent of your headaches? From twenty percent of your coworkers. Guaranteed. Like how 80% of my sock drawer is mismatched socks. True story.

• Pareto Principle: Fancy name. Think 80/20. Results/Causes. Not a hard rule. More like a guideline. Like the pirate code.

• Business Example: 80% of profits from 20% of customers. Those VIPs. Treat ’em right. Free donuts, maybe?

• Not a Law: More like a helpful nudge. Like realizing 80% of your fridge space is taken up by condiments. Oops. My bad.

• Focus Efforts: Find that magical 20%. The MVPs. Maximize impact. Like getting 80% of your daily calories from coffee. Don’t judge.

My neighbor, bless his heart, thinks 80% of his garden’s yield comes from 20% of his gnomes. Hmm. Definitely misinterpreting Pareto, but hey, whatever works. Right? He also claims 80% of his phone calls are butt dials. This I believe. The 80/20 rule? Powerful stuff. Use it wisely. Don’t go thinking 80% of world problems are caused by 20% of squirrels. Though…