I love to travel. Flying to other places is amazing. You step into this tin can and someone closes the door behind you. Hours later they open it, and Bam! – you’re in some other world. Blows my mind. While I love to travel, I haven’t been outside of the US. Maybe it’s because I find America to be so full of cool places in itself. I do have a bucket list of places in the world that I want to see – Mexico City & San Miguel de Allende, Costa Rica, Oz, Ireland, Rome, Barcelona. Maybe I can catch a football (soccer) game in those places someday.
Flying is an efficient way to get somewhere, but you miss so much along the way. Road trips are probably my preference for travel. I like to feel the time pass while the miles tick away. I like to listen to music and get lost in my thoughts or have long conversations with people I’m travelling with. I have driven up and down most of the Pacific coast, as far east as Rochester, New York and Athens, Ohio, south on a crazy 72-hour round-trip drive from Minneapolis to Alexandria, Louisiana, and to dozens of points in between. I’ve probably driven I-80 across Nebraska 25 times as interstates converge and split again to Denver, Salt Lake City, Minneapolis, Chicago, and Kansas City. While the distances between towns in the West can seem empty as they’re longer than whole New England states, the land is beautiful – even Nebraska!
I’ve always been into history – both world and American. Growing up I was a fan of John Wayne’s movies and Louis L’Amour books, both westerns. In Colorado long ago a friend introduced me to the writings of Edward Abbey set in the desert southwest (“Abbey’s Country”). Later I read Wallace Stenger and Aldo Leopold too. As I study American history and have gone to museums, the westward expansion by wagon and rail is sometimes the same land I’m driving over on a road trip, bringing it to life. In one of Abbey’s nonfiction books there’s an essay he wrote while touring Bodie State Park outside of Bridgeport, California. Had to stop there on my way to Yosemite one day and walk through the ghost town with Abbey’s narrative in hand. The history of Bodie is connected to Carson City, Virginia City and much of the mining silver and gold rushes in the West.
The small town of Hannibal, Missouri understandably embraces Mark Twain and his stories of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. He also popped up for a few years in Virginia City, Nevada where he was the newspaper editor during the Comstock Lode heyday. There’s a small town at the top of a nondescript California highway summit (CA-70) known as Beckwourth. It’s named for Jim Beckwourth, the only African-American mountain man to record his story of frontier exploration. In the National Mississippi River Museum & Aquarium in Dubuque, Iowa I found a small exhibit to Beckwourth. Road-tripping has brought history to life for me.
While driving I marvel at random thoughts too. For example, On a trip 20 years ago I wrote in a travel journal how weird it must be to live near a time zone line with your home in one time zone and your school or work in another “an hour away” even if only 2 miles in distance. Another sample thought: the lives of a dock hand in Boston, a banker in Houston, a surfer in Santa Cruz, and a farmer in Minnesota are so different – and yet our federal government is to care for each of their lives and they each get a say in national affairs with their vote in representational government. How do they possibly have something in common? It’s got to make governance complicated.
I find the fact that the United States encompasses so much land, so many natural resources and treasures, so many cultures just fascinating. National and state parks are rewarding destinations in themselves. As the miles add up and the landscape changes I can just feel the size of the country. Travel far enough and the land changes from farmland dotted with tree groves to river bottom washes, to high desert, to rugged mountains, and salty sea air coastlines.
One of my favorite things to do on a road trip is to eat dinner or Sunday brunch in local restaurants, and when there to ask what kind of food or drink is signature for the city. In many cities I’m told “BBQ and microbrew”, which suits me just fine but makes the city less interesting. In many other places though, I’m introduced to something fabulous. For example, the first time in New Orleans was for just one night, and we ate at the Royal House Oyster Bar in the French Quarter. They served me some grilled oysters with a melted garlic butter and sourdough bread, and a sazerac. I wasn’t big into oysters then, and I’d never heard of a sazerac before. Here was a food adventure that kitchen pirate Anthony Bourdain would’ve approved of. I loved it all, and I’ve brought a friend back there to share the experience. Talking with the staff and other patrons about local foods and traditions just opens up the places and creates good memories. It’s far better than just passing through.
Today I’m getting the itch to take a trip and change my setting for a while. It’s time for a new adventure. I’ve always wanted to do a loop through Abbey’s Country to visit the national parks in Southern Utah like Zion and Bryce Canyon. I find the desert to be amazingly beautiful. I wonder what a local chef cooks up there – maybe some rattlesnake? From there I can cut back through Las Vegas and head down to San Diego before heading north along the coast again.
Like other forms of recreation and leisure, travel offers us the opportunity to rest and reset our lives. By removing ourselves from our usual setting, responsibilities and routines we can break out of our ruts and feel alive again, get introduced to new people and places, experience new foods and languages, try new activities that aren’t available at home. Stimulation and creativity abound and begin to flow in us again. In essence, these experiences help us grow and make us better citizens of the country and stewards of the land. It’s OK if you travel to the city of a rival sports team. You may enjoy some banter with the locals about it over a round of margaritas. My experiences have taught me that getting into the local history and scene with the people just opens up the spirit. Excitement and energy are out there!
I’m going to get me some.
View From The Tailgate 