Our journey is over, 40 days after we embarked.
It is time for the epi-blog. But before we sign off, we’d like to share some highlights.
The Most Beautiful State
In total, we drove 9,764 miles. We crossed 17 states (in some cases both west- and eastbound), as well as parts of one Canadian province (Ontario).
Along the way, we were treated to the extraordinary beauty of North America. In no small way, that’s because we assiduously avoided cities, suburbs, freeways, and other human blights. Our journey was blessed by farms, fields, prairie, desert, forests, hills, mountains, canyons, rivers, lakes, and oceans.
In other words, we were blessed to enjoy what Americans have not yet gotten around to ruining.
Ok, we’ll admit it, the odd barn, farmhouse, or windmill was also a treat.
So, what was the most beautiful state we visited?
It isn’t even close. It is Wyoming.
In part, that is because Wyoming has the smallest population of any state in the union, namely 584,057 in 2023. In case you are curious, the next least populated states are Vermont, Alaska, North and South Dakota, respectively.
Yet, by square miles, Wyoming is also the 9th largest US state. Wyoming, therefore, has a tremendous advantage when it comes to natural beauty. Most of the state hasn’t (yet) been defiled by human activity.
Driving across Wyoming exposes one to the epitome of possibility. It offers broad expanses, rivaled only by Alaska, places to lose oneself in nature. For those of us who generally dislike people (excepting the readers of this blog, of course), Wyoming is the ultimate ‘fuck off’ destination.
There is something else special about Wyoming. It is not Yellowstone nor the Grand Tetons, despite their majesty. After all, other states offer spectacular eye-candy: Yosemite or Big Sur in California, Mount Rainier in Washington, Sedona in Arizona, or Moab in Utah, for example.
Rather, what separates Wyoming from other states is that Wyoming’s natural beauty spans nearly every square mile of its territory. Much of that beauty is, thankfully, unknown to visitors. The hordes who head to Jackson or Yellowstone typically bypass the Wind River Range or the Bighorn Mountains, which are, if anything, even more fetching. The North Tongue, Wind, or Green Rivers rival those anywhere in the West for clarity and habitat, including (of course) for trout. The topography of the western Powder River region, once the abundant hunting grounds of the Sioux, Cheyenne, and other Native Americans, is stunning.
So, Wyoming it is.
The Most Memorable Moment
The ostensible reason for our journey was to attend a wedding near Santa Barbara, California.
And that brings us to our most memorable moment. With no disrespect to the bride and groom, nor to their respective families, nor to the spectacular venue of the wedding and reception, the most memorable moment came earlier that day at the Santa Barbara beach.
It was an epic hour-long game of family beach volleyball. Joanie & I were joined by Damon & Hannah, Julia & Albert, and Emma & Michael in a game of friendly, yet competitive, volleyball. Shrieks, howls of laughter, audacious sand dives, and simply awful volleyball technique punctuated what was, without question, the single best moment of the trip.
The Weirdest Thing We Saw
After dropping Joanie at the airport to fly home (recall, she had tooth abscess), I drove back across Wyoming and into South Dakota, on my way to Connecticut.
For the uninitiated, it may come as a surprise that South Dakota is NOTHING like Wyoming.
For one, immediately upon crossing the state border, one is accosted in South Dakota by billboards, which are almost unknown in Wyoming.
The first dozen or so offered not-so-subtle messages from the ‘right-to-life’ crowd. Among them were giant posters of cute babies with captions about how ‘My fetal heartbeat was detected after 21 days!’.
Ok, I sighed, even if none of the little adorables was Black, Hispanic, Asian, or Native American.
Whatever.
Yet that was merely the warm-up.
As I got closer to Rapid City, I began to encounter a few, then more, then dozens, and then hundreds of Harley Davidson motorcyclists.
Further culture shock.
They were headed to Sturgis 2024, the annual conclave of Harley enthusiasts.
Ok, I thought. Let them be.
But I was annoyed by their ubiquitous ‘Don’t Tread on Me’ leather jackets and the ear-splitting roar of their bikes. I felt like posting a ‘Don’t Fart on Me at 120 Decibels’ sign on the back of the van.
I thought better of it.
But even that was not the weirdest thing about South Dakota.
The winner was a set of billboards, separated by no more than a few dozen yards, on the side of Interstate 90 near Rapid City, South Dakota.
The first said:
‘Shackled By Lust? Try Jesus’.
Immediately thereafter came the following two:
‘For the Best Titty Bars, Try Rapid City’
and
‘Need a Dildo, an Inflatable, or Other Sex Toys? Visit One of Our Rapid City Adult Stores.’
WTF?
The Scariest Moment
Our scariest moments were:
- Encountering a grizzly bear on our hike in Glacier National Park.
- Busting a radiator fan in the middle of the Nevada desert, 150 miles from the nearest mechanic, town, or drop of water.
- Being charged by a mother moose protecting her calf on the Gros Vente River.
- Driving along narrow mountain passes without guard rails.
- Getting caught in a campground in southern Minnesota as various tornados touched down within a few miles of our spot.
- South Dakota.
The Best Meal & Drink
The second-to-last-category is our best meal or drink on the trek. It would be easy, and surely appropriate, to gratefully acknowledge the generous hospitality of those along our journey we visited, our dear friends and family. We were treated to the best home-cooked meals!
Topping that list was the food and drink served at the Marks/Sappern wedding. Out-of-this world amazing! California fresh, Italian cheeses, and an array of refreshing drinks perfect for a warm evening of love and celebration.
But a close runner up was the meal we made every evening for ourselves, cooked over our tiny propane stove. It didn’t matter a jot that the servings might be freeze-dried, instant, or plain scrambled eggs. Nothing beats the taste of eating in the great outdoors.
The same goes for drink. Each morning, over the same dinky stove, we made Italian espressos topped with frothed heated milk. Sipping coffee alongside a stream, in a forest, atop a mountain, or in a secluded camp spot simply cannot be beat.
Our Biggest Love
And finally, what was our biggest love?
I can’t speak for Joanie, but mine was, well, Joanie. It is an extraordinary privilege to spend five weeks and all 24 hours of each day with your best friend. That is love, and she was my biggest love of the journey.
I must add, however, that there is a runner up.
Her name is Vanna. Or Vincent. Or whatever you chose to call our van.
In the immortal words of Albert Giroux, Vanna is a ‘beast’.
Yes, she tossed a radiator fan in a remote Nevada canyon, overheated on an interstate, required an oil and tire change, and struggled immensely to make it up an extraordinarily steep mountain pass into the Bighorn Mountains.
But she made it!
By the way, and this may or may not be advice to the women reading this blog, the solution to getting her over that mountain pass without boiling over and blowing a head gasket was to remove Vanna’s bra. For those unaware, that’s the black covering on the front of the van protecting her against gazillions of bug hits.
The mechanic told me that Vanna’s bra had to come off. It had, in his words, contributed to her radiator ‘hot flash’.
Just sayin’.
Vanna was our constant companion. She was our berth at night, our store of food & drink, our wheels across America, and just a fucking good ride.
Vanna deserves honorable mention for ‘Biggest Love’.
So, that’s it.
Only one thing remains.
Blog drop.