The Lost Art of Travelling Slowly

In July of 2010, I set off on my first ever road trip. I had been golfing with my best friend, Eric, that afternoon, discussing the upcoming 4th of July weekend, when we decided we should do something to celebrate. We’d just graduated high school in May and it felt like we should do something exciting before heading off to college in the fall. We pondered the idea for a few holes and talked about the possibilities. Amusement parks. Going downtown Indianapolis. Nothing struck a chord with us until we thought of the idea of a road trip. The only question was where to go. We landed on our nation’s capital as neither of us had been. We checked the map. About a 12 hour drive. Totally doable.

We finished up our game and headed to his house. He packed a bag while I booked a hotel. A short stop at my place to gather some clothes for myself and we were off. Two best friends on the open road, heading out of state with no parental supervision for the first time in our lives. The world seemed so full of possibilities and the excitement of this spontaneous road trip is a feeling I could never forget. Over the coming years, life would take us both in vastly different directions but the feeling of that one adventure has always stayed with me.

In the decade plus that has passed since I have had the fortunate opportunity to travel quite a bit. I’ve been to multiple countries and all 48 continental states with plans to do more travel later this year. I’ve taken cruises, trains, busses, cars, planes, and motorcycles all across this country. A couple of years ago for my 29th birthday, I set out to travel completely alone for a week; followed by a week with my girlfriend. I flew into Las Vegas, got a rental car and headed out on my adventure.

I had no real plans other than knowing that in a week I was due in Denver to pick up Karley from the airport where she was meeting me. I went to Bryce Canyon and stayed overnight in the park enjoying the beautiful night sky. I went to Horseshoe Bend and hung my feet out over the edge and just sat for a while taking it all in. I drove 100 miles into the middle of nowhere to see the 4-corners only to realize it was closed, I had no gps, and needed to figure out how to make my way to Albuquerque. I stopped on the side of the road to enjoy the sunrise in the desert and hung out watching planes come in over the city. I stayed overnight under the stars at the Royal Gorge Bridge and when I made it to Denver, I drove outside the city to spend time exploring an old abandoned mine. It seemed as if I had unlimited time and so I stopped whenever I desired to take in the world around me.

When Karley joined me in Denver, we did much of the same for the next week. We walked around Mt. Rushmore, we found a random park in Montana to enjoy the beauty of nature, we explored Yellowstone, and after being stopped from going into Yosemite we explored a different park nearby. We browsed a random book store in small town Idaho, we slept overnight in Death Valley enjoying the stars and catching the sunrise in the morning. We ventured around Reno, took in Lake Tahoe, and we ended it all off by walking the full strip of Vegas and enjoying a night on Freemont Street.

Since that first vacation, which was only a couple months after we started dating, we’ve made it a point to take several other road trips. We explored the midwest, drove through Niagara to Canada, and journeyed south so I could visit my last of the 48 states, Arkansas. I’m sure many more road trips are ahead for us. The comment we always hear though is that while people would love to visit those places, they feel better if they spend their limited time exploring some far reaching place. And so they hop a flight to spend a few days in Asia, Europe, Mexico, or Puerto Rico. While I think those places are awesome and hope to someday visit all the countries I can, it also saddens me. It seems to me that every American is so hell bent on getting out of here that they never explore the beauty that rests in their own backyard.

We fly off to visit a place, only to stay at a resort, surrounded by other Americans trying to escape, and never venture past the tourist areas to see what life is really like in these parts of the world. We take a cruise and go from island to island, never really getting to slow down and experience the culture because we have to get back on the boat. This isn’t a knock on our ability to hop on a plane and be in another country within hours. I love flying to the point that a long-standing dream of mine has been to be a flight attendant. Instead it’s a call to revisit the lost art of travelling slowly. Take a road trip with friends or even alone. Don’t have a plan other than to take in what is all around you. Stop at whatever catches your attention. Pay mind to the people and their way of life. Settle in to your surroundings and enjoy the view.

For planners, it’s making a plan to do nothing for at least a part of your vacation. For me, that means when I fly off to Turks and Caicos Islands in a few months we get a house instead of a resort. We go grocery shopping at the local store. We spend time exploring the city and eating with the locals. We take in the beauty of the islands and don’t worry about an itinerary of one tourist thing after another. We venture off the created path specifically made for tourists and experience the culture of island life. Forget trying to do the good stuff you saw everyone else doing online or what you think will get your photos the most likes on social media. Being a part of where you are and connecting with your surroundings instead of merely viewing them from your tour bus or a plane window. Immersing yourself in a culture is the good stuff.

Last year, Eric and his girlfriend set off on a multi-month adventure to travel and enjoy life. They started in California, headed north to Washington, back to Reno, down to the Grand Canyon and then made their way across the southern states to Florida to finish out the winter there for another month or so before heading back up to Michigan. They travelled in a SUV and slept in tents most nights. Along the way, Eric would send me photos of the places they were staying and we’d often exchange quick conversations via text before he’d again loose signal and it’d seem like he was totally disconnected with the world. In truth, he was more connected with it than most of us.