Big Butt Road Trip -

Let’s get one thing straight right out of the gate: This is not an article about a Kardashian entourage caravanning through Beverly Hills.

By Hank O’Hara, Special to The Asphalt Jungle big butt road trip

So if you’ve got a big butt, or you love someone who does, don’t let the airline seat pitch scare you. Hit the road. Bring a cushion. And for the love of all that is holy, call shotgun early. Let’s get one thing straight right out of

There is something deeply bonding about sharing the specific, low-grade misery of not fitting into the world’s default dimensions. We complained. We adjusted. We ate too much. And somewhere around the 800-mile mark, we stopped thinking about our butts and started thinking about the sky, the music, and the asphalt rolling by. Bring a cushion

Spoiler alert: No. But we had a blast trying. It started as a complaint. My wife, Lisa, slid into the passenger seat of my 2018 Honda Fit and immediately yelped. “These bolsters are digging into my glutes like a pair of angry salad tongs.”

No, the “Big Butt Road Trip” is something far more relatable, far more American, and (literally) far more down-to-earth. It’s the epic journey my wife, my brother-in-law, and I took last summer to answer a single, burning question: Can three people with generous posteriors survive 2,000 miles in a subcompact hatchback without requiring chiropractic intervention?