To be in transit is to navigate a void between points of departure and arrival. When we’re in an airplane, untethered to the earth, time and space roll by indifferently. Only seldom does a vague sense of location present itself through the oval window—green irrigation circles printed on the Plains, dotted lines of city light woven in the darkness, black granite peaks locked in ice. On road trips, these captivating pauses come at shorter intervals between the on- and off-ramps, at gas stations, diners and cheap motels. Jack Kerouac’s unspooling tale, On the Road, follows his vision of “one great red line across America, ” but gathers its tone and value in the dingy waysides of the route. It begins inauspiciously, with rain coming down hard at Bear Mountain Bridge on Route 6. Waiting alone for a ride at an abandoned filling station, looking This story is from Kinfolk Issue Thirty-Five Buy Now Related Stories Arts & Culture Issue 19 Going Incognito We all secretly wonder what mischief we’d make if invisible: When our identity is hidden, everything seems possible. Arts & Culture Issue 19 The Best Policy Sometimes we talk to each other without feeling heard. Honesty—a most intimate interaction—can be just as thrilling as its more devious inverse. Arts & Culture Issue 19 A Sense of Suspense With unhinged imaginations and mountains of cliff-hangers, the filmmakers behind the sci-fi podcast Limetown have all the makings of a scary story. Arts & Culture Issue 19 Like Clockwork In this new column about time, we learn how slipping off our watches makes us feel like deadline-damning renegades. Arts & Culture Music Issue 19 On a Grander Scale Malaysian singer-songwriter Yuna now may live on the opposite side of the globe, but she’s determined to evolve while staying true to her roots. Arts & Culture Issue 19 Neighborhood: Fire Stations The firefighting profession has evolved over time from Ancient Rome’s rudimentary bucket brigades to today’s sleek life-saving departments.