Modest Mouse famously hails from Issaquah, a sleepy Washington suburb. Growing up somewhere so remote contributed to the band’s preoccupation with claustrophobia and isolation that sprawls especially on their debut, This Is a Long Drive For Someone With Nothing to Think About. The album, released March 26, 1996, bears the curious distinction of being simultaneously terrified and enthralled by the extremes of openness and enclosure. These are tales of being stuck in an endless loop (“Exit Does Not Exist”), disillusioned by how similar every town has become with its strip malls, chain restaurants, and housing developments (“Novocain Stain”).

From the album’s opening chords, we’re left with the image of “travelling swallowing Dramamine” through winding highways and open skies towards elsewhere, anywhere. You can shake the dust off any of these songs, from the languid “Ionizes & Atomizes” to “Lounge,” where frontman Isaac Brock recalls traveling in a car that “was plush but had no heat.” Whether it’s through the tundra, the desert, or Ohio, there’s the sense of someone being left behind, perpetually waving goodbye in the rearview mirror. And if anything, it proved Modest Mouse knows their geography pretty damn well.

Long Drive sputters to a stop after almost an hour and fourteen minutes. In some stretches of the country, it’s just enough to crest the outer reaches of the suburbs; in others, entire universes can be crossed. To commemorate the album’s 20th anniversary, we’ve compiled 20 drives across varying landscapes that roughly correspond to the ebb and flow of Long Drive. Nearly all clock in between an hour and two hours, so there’s time for at least one listen all the way through, with some allowing for replays of your favorite tracks.

And while you’re diving deep into Modest Mouse nostalgia, be sure to watch Pitchfork.tv’s documentary on The Lonesome Crowded West, the classic 1997 full-length follow-up to Long Drive.

Modest Mouse’s tree-lined suburban hometown lies in the far reaches of the world: In the Pacific Northwest, near the Cascade Mountains. While the town is typically labeled as an outer Seattle suburb, the wooded drive from Issaquah to Olympia, the homebase of K Records and then-thriving riot grrrl and punk scenes, takes roughly an hour and twelve minutes. Which makes us think that this is a Long Drive was recorded to soundtrack this drive practically down to the minute.

The sun may not shine and the wind will certainly howl when you drive along Oregon’s highway 101, but the coastline is beautiful precisely because it’s untamed, leaving you feeling dwarfed by the elements. We recommend throwing on Long Drive’s “Make Everyone Happy/Mechanical Birds” as you watch rocks jut out of the Pacific waters on the way from Astoria (The Goonies’ hometown!) to the breathtaking beaches of Ecola State Park, then onto the quaint Rockaway Beach.

California’s Highway 1, the Pacific Coast Highway, is one of the most storied routes in the world, and for good reason: You feel practically down on the water with the ocean lapping up just under your tires. Big Sur is a naturalist’s paradise, and Santa Cruz boasts its own set of wonders, including redwoods and vineyards. The drive itself is only benefited from Long Drive’s angular guitars and Brock’s wild yearning.

If you make the venture out west, some people might shade you for selling out to the palm tree scene — but who can blame you, given how gorgeous SoCal drives are? The journey from Los Angeles to Santa Barbara, where Mediterranean-style arches and azure beaches reign, is brief and especially majestic. This drive feasibly could have been in Brock’s mind when he crooned of “better views” and “close relaxing sounds” on “Beachside Property,” but we can’t imagine him having spent a lot of time in Santa Barbara by 1996, given his upbringing across Montana, Oregon, and Washington, and formative years on the east coast.

The Badlands are one of America’s weirdest, most wondrous natural landscapes, shape-shifting with each highway curve you round. After you make your way from Rapid City via the picturesque SD Hwy 44, make sure to find your way onto the Badlands Loop State Scenic Byway (SD 240) to catch sights of the many crags and cliffs that make this one of the greatest long drives going.

The idea of a “lonesome crowded west” occupies a large expanse, but we’re hard-pressed to think of a lonelier road than Route 50. Stretching from Ocean City, Maryland to Sacramento, California, Route 50’s most notoriously desolate stretch is smack-dab in the middle of Nevada, and so lonesome that the state tried to gin up a tourist attraction along the way (in Eureka, an old mining town). To borrow Modest Mouse’s words, it’s said to be “truly lonely” and “flatter than it seems.”

Wyoming is one of the least densely populated states in the nation, but it has a vast and largely untouched landscape. The topography ranges from buttes to canyons to reservoirs, and there’s no shortage of national parks. Take the Buffalo Bill Cody Scenic Byway from Wyoming’s rodeo capital, Cody, through the Wapiti Valley to barrel straight into Yellowstone through the East Entrance (be warned: it’s closed part of the year, and the alternate path adds about two hours). It’s the perfect opportunity to “open the window and let in the atmosphere,” as Brock suggests on “Breakthrough.”

Just north of Yellowstone is the legendary town they call Big Sky. Of course, the name also describes the eerily large sky that seems to swallow you whole, which you can enjoy en route to a fellow wondrous and weird state, Idaho. Pop on “Custom Concern” if you fancy a cathartic drive, but whatever mood you’re in, don’t you dare talk shit about this pretty sunset.

No matter where you are in Utah, snow-capped mountain ranges are in your peripheral vision. Take a day trip from Salt Lake City to Robert Redford’s digs in nearby Sundance for a taste of quaint lodge life. Hell, maybe you’ll have a creative breakthrough there while listening to “Lounge.”

The drive from Denver to the Rocky Mountain National Park is home to the nation’s most spectacular outlooks. The west may be lonesome, but it’s also crowded with a kaleidoscopic array of peaks and parks, including Estes Park, where you can stay at the hotel that inspired the Shining, The Stanley. All work and no play makes us dull people, after all.

New Mexico is a land of red dirt, blindingly blue skies and alien encounters. While you can be wowed by driving basically in any direction, one stunning jaunt takes you north from the stunning artisan town of Santa Fe to the high desert enclave Taos. Hopefully you won’t encounter “mirages of friendship” in the dry climate, or lose “all touch building a desert,” as Brock details in “Custom Concern.”

The drive from H-town to the sleepy town of Galveston—which boasts art deco architecture and beach side properties—is one that this writer did many times in her youth, often soundtracked by Long Drive. It’s less cerulean waters than it is abandoned strip malls and flatlands, but it’s the journey that counts. Bonus points if you meet a “surf rock man from a land of plenty” on the way there.

Chicago’s a great town, but leaving the Windy City behind while cruising down Lake Shore Drive is stunning. The drive to neighboring Wisconsin isn’t the most picturesque (and more flat than anything), but it’s worth it for the moment you roll into Milwaukee and see the entire city unfold before you. If it’s not ghastly cold, take a cue from “Breakthrough” to open the windows and “let in some sky.”

Take the 441 (that turns into Blue River Parkway) to forge across Tennessee through the craggy Smoky Mountains, and onwards towards the arts hub of Asheville. The journey’s about two and a half hours long, so it’s perfect if just one listen of Long Drive isn’t enough, and you want to also spin The Lonesome Crowded West on that long stretch of road.

You can take a bus straight to Baltimore from D.C., or you can escape the cities completely and head south through Virginia towards laidback Richmond. Getting out of D.C. is a treat in itself, especially when you’re greeted with Potomac riverfront views peeking through Virginia’s thick woods. Thankfully, it’s unlikely you’ll need Dramamine for this one.

The drive from the Adirondack foothills down to Utica is nothing short of spectacular, with the winding roads zipping through tiny towns to reveal the Empire State’s most scenic parts. No matter how desolate it might seem, the journey recalls that poignant adage on “Ionizes & Atomizes:” “The real lights can make you heavy/ But never really empty.”

Skip Boston and head to western Massachusetts on a road trip from Providence. The route will take you on a two-lane highway, winding through small towns and tiny berry stands along the way. You’ll catch sweeping views of the Berkshires, valleys, and hills covered in pine trees en route to the indie-rock haven Northampton. We recommend listening to Long Drive’s punkiest song, “Tundra/Desert,” on the way in so you’re ready to roll right on over to a show.

Montreal is less than two hours from Burlington, and the leafy drive is especially swoon-worthy in the fall. Take the Champlain Bridge for a stunning view of Quebec’s finest as you cruise into Canada, and get ready to “wear out” your eyes on the “monuments and steeples” Brock reminisces about on “Custom Concern.”

Charleston is a town that seems neither of this either, nor entirely of this world, so it’s a great starting place regardless. Mozy up South Carolina’s coastline to Myrtle Beach blasting “Dog Paddle” the whole way, “screaming Carolina” along with the rest of the band.

As you make your way south from Miami’s neon glow towards Key Largo, you’ll be able to see ocean in every direction, and in jewel-colored tones you didn’t think were possible. This locale is the opposite of the one you might imagine Brock singing about throughout Long Drive and other early Modest Mouse albums, and it's part of what makes this drive set to Long Drive such an interesting combo. That said, “Beachside Property” is an obvious must-listen… in your beachside property.