What’s your best story of road-trip pain and/or glory?
When, in the midst of Texas heat after a jag in New Orleans, we realized that the two-quart, plastic container we were pouring into the radiator of the drive-away car was oil, not engine coolant.
A beautiful two-week Wyoming-and-Montana loop that included Yellowstone, Bozeman, Helena and Grand Teton—it was pure freedom.
Two trips with our little Rosie who was six and eight months old. City parks are our new best friend for long hauls. Thank you local taxpayers. We’ll pay our taxes here for you to visit, too.
A stranger promised to take me to “a great breakfast spot” in Idaho. He gave me directions that led me to an empty field. Then—surprise!—he picked me up in a Cessna, dipped and dived through the Sawtooths, and landed us at Big Creek Lodge.
I spent fourteen days on the road in 1988, headed to Alaska in a 1967 International Harvester Scout that could not go above 55 mph. It was epic adventure on the Alaskan Highway.
On a trip to Montana to ski with my brother, we hit a patch of ice and my truck rolled two-and-a-half times at 80 mph. It was totaled, but we were fine, miraculously.
Winnemucca, Nevada in July. Nothing hotter. The long distance reward? Cooling off in the clear waters of Lake Tahoe.