The great escape. That's what the road was to people in generations past. Just themselves, their car, and the road. That black streak that disappeared around the bend, over the next rise, or into the horizon. A perfect quiet, noisy in that way that doesn't bother you... four pieces of rubber on the pavement rolling faster than the eye can see; wind caressing the lines of your ride; the radio blasting your favorite classic rock song.
Sometimes, you'd be the only car in sight. Driving through desert, trees, fields of corn or wheat, or into the night where the moon and your headlights are the only three points of light you see, or notice.
An escape. No problems, save for watching a red needle approaching a malicious "E," or the occasional resistance from an engine that might need a little tuning. But everything else... money, job, school, family... just disappears behind your rear bumper like a hitchhiker you weren't sure you should pick up. It's just you and the road, and things are perfect.
But, look around today. Too many people who shouldn't have licenses have them. Too many people who shouldn't have cars have them. And the road is a place to fear. No longer a calming means of travel, it's been replaced by assholes blasting music too loudly, near-blind or inconsiderate drivers cutting you off, and never-ending construction zones manned by construction workers who don't seem to give a shit. No longer a place to escape to, but one to escape from.
Like life, like dreams... where did the road go?