Road Trip America Part 1
Late last spring, after finishing up three long years of intense travail, the drudgery of hundreds of thousands of words in the form of my Master’s in Teaching, and rounding out my third year as a high school teacher in Gallup, New Mexico, I decided to make a break for it. The kids were tremendously cool and the scenery on the occasional hike that time allowed for was breathtaking, but I had become riddled with stress. Most mornings I woke up about an hour before my 5 a.m. alarm and lay in the dark with palpable anxiety over lesson plans, students’ progress, and letters home, feeling completely overwhelmed and ill-equipped for the day ahead of me. I’d schlepp my comotose body out of bed and begin reviewing procedural structures for the day’s doubtlessly engaging and innovative learning activities while I shampooed.
This is not an opportunity to bemoan the mammoth and myriad pressures of today’s modern work environment. I just set this stodgy little scene so that your viewing of the picture below rouses in you an itty-bitty iota of the cathartic feeling I experienced as I put mile after mile between me and a determined life of stability and calm.
I recalled the days, four years earlier, when I was still an insouciant young traveler who managed to make a small, yet (I hope) meaningful difference in the places to which she ventured. What had happened to her? At what point did the promise of a young, intrepid, yet industrious adventurer start to feel like the nebulous memory of a different girl? I needed a reboot. My partner Paul and I sold everything – furniture, clothes, the entirety of my kitchen (definitely the most heart-wrenching), said goodbye to all those who had helped make this stark and magnificent desertland our home for three years, shoved our camping gear in the car and set out to see what the great U. S. of A. had for us to see, from sea to shining sea.
It’s not just the travel bug or wanderlust or some other twee nickname for the deep need to see and connect with the world that impelled me to take such drastic measures. I cried no less than six times on my last day of school, but kept my resolve to seize my life at the age of 30 and get the hell out there again. We bought one-way tickets to Thailand and lived life on the road for two months from Gallup, New Mexico to New York City heading north and then south and then north again, in a veritable constellation of adventure. We free camped in state parks, covered 23 states, and savored as many regional dishes as possible. (Click here if you are interested in how I dealt with my crippling debt in the meantime.)
Although the anticipation to see something other than rocks, no matter how magnanimous or miraculously-formed over eons by underwater currents, I savored the drive out of town. I I bid a slow and silent farewell to the American southwest, knowing I wouldn’t be back for some time, and that there is no place quite like it on earth. I watched rock afer rock come up in the distance and pass us by, wondering what I would find if I hiked to the top. Rabbit colonies? Big-horned sheep? Hippies?
Our first stop was Window Rock, Arizona, capital of the Navajo Nation. It’s window. In a rock. It’s cool. Acutally, there are lots of these in the southwest, but this one has a pleasant park and moving, yet humble monument to the Navajo Code Talkers. There’s also a zoo, showcasing animals from the region and and explanation of the significance of each animal in Navajo culture.
Next, we followed I-80W toward what had eluded us for over three years: The Grand Canyon. We lived less than a five hour drive from this world wonder and had yet to make it out there. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, but I have to admit we didn’t try that hard. We once drove out there only to be met by closed doors due to the government shutdown. It turned out to a be a boon, as we ended up taking in all sorts of other treasures that pilgrims usually forsake in order to take in some bigness. Click here to see some lesser known gems, generously offering us their beauty, though often overlooked, posing in the Grand Canyon’s shadow.
It was breathtaking. It’s not the most unique canyon in the Four Corners area, unless you count its size, but it’s difficult not to be blown away and imagine it all underwater teeming with plesiosaurs. It’s even less difficult to get a great photo. Just check out what it does every night. Every night.
Oh you know, just the quotidien, crepuscular occurence of every shade of blue in the color spectrum illuminating a prehistoric ocean as our home planet spins around a colossal ball of fire. Nothing special.
We spent our first night free camping in a nearby state park, something we would do throughout most of our two month journey. www.freecamping.com is quite a useful tool, but it’s also great to know that you can camp for free in any state park in the country, as long as you are 25 feet from the road. Our first night free camping went seamlessly. Some free sites near national or state parks have signs that indicate where it’s ok to camp, other times it’s just a walk in and set up shop kind of situation. Just know: no fires in the state part. It’s the price of free camping. Finding a well-marked free site is pretty easy around attractions like national parks, but the free sites tend to get more sparse the deeper into the bumble one stumbles.
We awoke after our first night on the road proud. This was all going to be easy. As soon as we could unpack and pack the car in under 45 minutes. We jumped into said car and rocked out until Idaho, passing through Zion National Park. If you’ve never given much thought to Utah, do. Like really, start doing that.
We arrived in Salt Lake City by day 3. It was at this point that I realized that you can drive a lot of miles in one day. We were ahead of schedule. We decided to check out The Salt Lake Temple. It looks like Downton Abbey. Yet the gardens are more American. You would not believe how many languages are being translated by tour guides to large groups. By girls. Most of the volunteers were young women. I inferred (with no evidence) that the young gentlemen of the same age often go off for missions and many of the young ladies fulfill their call to outreach by volunteering at the temple in SLC. I have no pony in the race towards evangelism abroad, but it does speak to the challenges and risks that women face when traveling far from home.
Paul sneaked up on me while I was reading the informational placards. Information placards are my lifeblood. See below.
We didn’t spend much time in Salt Lake City, but it’s a very clean city. I know that sounds like I don’t have much else to say about it, but it’s a strikingly clean city. Next stop, Idaho!
I don’t know how jazzed other people usually get about Idaho, but Paul and I hadn’t see fields of grass or bales of hay in a long, long time. It was downright exotic. I couldn’t wait to see more things grow out of the ground.
Check out Road Trip America Part 2 to see some of the big skies in Montana and the wildlife of Wyoming.