When I was about nine years old my parents and I drove to Mesa Arizona to visit my father's brother and family. From there we went on to California to visit more relatives. No Interstate highways then, we took Route 66 all the way.
My fathers old 1946 Nash sedan was a real tank of a car, and had to be because the roads were terrible. We broke a tie rod on the front axle in Oklahoma (due to a huge pothole).
I loved every minute of riding in it. I had the back seat all to myself. Those days (pre seat belts) I was still short enough that I could stand up fully and see out the window in front,back or any direction I wanted. If I got tired I could lay down on the seat. I fit perfectly on the back seat without hitting either door with my head or my feet, so I could sleep or rest anytime of day.
The thing I remember most was seeing Turtles while we drove through the hills in the Ozarks. They were about 8-10 inches across the back and the poor Turtles tried to cross the two lane highway. They would get out in the traffic lane and see something coming and pull their head and legs in. Unfortunately for many this was not the safety they had hoped for. They were either smashed completely or would be grazed by a tire, flip up and down and get bounced under the cars and trucks. Some would end up looking like saucers on edge under the car frame bouncing and banging back and forth, sometimes rolling on edge for a few hundred yards down the road after chattering up and down for a few seconds.
I also remember being very excited to put my feet in the ocean when we went to the beach in Santa Monica. Oceans were (and still are) a wonderment to a Hoosier boy.