As I tear through Costa Rica’s coastal highway—right around the community of Uvita—I catch a glimpse of a memorial mounted to a palm tree that hangs over the road. It’s a simple wooden cross accompanied by a framed photo of the Virgin Mary and some red, tropical flowers. It’s reminder that the highway can also be a place of where tragedies occur. A space where families lose loved ones. As an anthropologist, it is important to use my experiences to think about how others’ histories with transit infrastructure shape their emotions and perspectives of mobility. I am lucky to have had encounters that have left a generally positive mark on my body. But, what about others who equate highway travel with a terrible accident…or physical violence…or deportation? What about the family who returns to that wooden memorial to replace the rotting flowers with a fresh bouquet? For these people, the emotions that they feel as they engage with the road may be ones of reluctance, terror, and sadness. To tell the full story of the Pan-American Highway we must collect a variety of these ‘road stories’ to understand how infrastructure can take on a multitude of meanings at once. We must contemplate how this eclectic mix of experiences comes together as highway users encounter one another on the road. Continuing down that highway, I am left to observe the various faces as they go about their business on the side of the road. Fruit vendors, taxi drivers, bicyclists, school children…all being shaped by the material structures of the highway that passes through their communities…all with varying experiences with joy, sadness, fear, and all of the other emotions that are bound within the concrete of this highway.