Adler's American Road Trip: Epilogue

We drove 8400 miles in 28 days through 21 states. Actually it was that plus two miles to be precise. For relative comparisons, we could have driven from San Francisco to New York three times and it would have been about the same distance. I’m ambitious but this was a crazy.

But, you know what? We did it. And I set out on this trip to give my son a gift of memories that will stay with him for a lifetime. I did something that I never do. I stopped working and devoted that time to my son.

I’ll forever remember Adler’s emotional goodbye to Lisa when we began the journey and his longing to see her again. The bond between a mother and child is strong and special. This is something that a father cannot relate to. We serve different purposes in a child’s life.

I’m thankful that after driving more than 8000 miles, and most of them fast, I didn’t get a single speeding ticket nor was I pulled over once. I came close on the final leg home but the highway patrol officer changed his mind and turned around after ten miles of trailing me. Somehow I escaped the web of state troopers in Washington. That state really needs to lighten up on their enforcement of speeding laws.

The iPad was both a blessing and a curse. More than anything it provided Adler an escape from the road. The Inventioneers game lasted the entire trip. It was his alternative universe that made those drives so much shorter than they actually were. Adler predictably grew tired of the game around hour five at which point he would commence his interrogation of dad with endless questions.

Nobody got hurt or sick on this trip (that I’ve written about so far). There was an accident that occurred at the Best Western in Lake Powell Arizona. That was the day that Adler and I had our picnic by the pool. I stepped onto the top step of the pool ladder and it spun freely under me. The step was either installed incorrectly or was broken. All of my weight shifted and my body torqued around in an ugly corkscrew motion as I tried to brace myself from falling. This did immediate damage to my lower back. The hotel manager was not on duty that day but I filed an incident report expecting some type of communication or instructions for how to seek medical treatment. While I was doing so the hotel remove the ladder. After that did the hotel ever respond? No. Did I accept the invitation to complete the online guest satisfaction survey that was emailed to me? Absolutely. Did they ever contact me or apologize? No. FUCK BEST WESTERN.

We lucked out with the weather. I had originally planned to make the trip in clockwise direction because that's what you do in the Northern hemisphere, right? But after reviewing the schedule I realized that this would have meant wrapping up the trip in the desert--in July. When we sat at our hotel eating breakfast in Gillette WY and saw the weather report for the country I knew we’d made the right call. Did we miss out on a bunch of activities in Chicago due to the rain and fog? Yes, but Adler is already planning a return trip to the windy city but this time by plane.

In today's digital world (ironically where this trip is memorialized) and fast moving culture we generally rely on aviation to get from point A to point B. But taking the road less traveled exposed us to everything we wouldn’t have otherwise seen or the people we wouldn’t have otherwise meet. A lot can be said about the efficiencies of air travel but we had a far richer experience given that we drove. We did it the slow way, the better way, and that made all the difference.

Since we’ve been back many have asked what the best part of the trip was. This is a hard question to answer because we saw and did so much. You can’t compare apples and oranges. But here’s my list in no particular order:

The people--without a doubt the people made this adventure so much better. They were the supporting cast of characters on this otherwise father and son motion picture. The friends and family that we know shared their warmth, generosity, and love. The strangers met us with genuine interest and astonishment about what we were doing. We listened to their recommendations and were exposed to so many new things because of these unexpected interactions.

I wish to return to Bryce Canyon in the winter. I want to see the hoodoos transformed under a blanket of snow and experience the sterile aroma of winter in this alien place and explore much more than my traveling partner was willing to do this time around. Similarly, Adler wasn’t up to hiking around Arches National Park and I hope that we can return when he’s older and have a new adventure at this ever changing location. I would schedule another visit when it’s less hot and more conducive to hiking in the desert.

Carlsbad Cavern felt like an unofficial wonder of the world. It was a religious experience that leaves you humbled in awe of nature. One visit was enough for me because I left with such powerful visual memories. It’s tough to think about returning other than to take Lisa here and share the experience with her.

Adler’s favorite memory (if you ask him) was riding in the helicopter over the Grand Canyon. As I remember it he was more relieved to be back on the ground after the flight. But a HELICOPTER ride has a coolness factor that can’t be surpassed especially when telling friends. But what really kept him going more than anything (other than the stupid iPad) were the penny machines that we encountered at most of our destinations. Insert two quarters and a shiny penny into the machine. Crank the handle round and round. Out drops your penny squished flat into an oval shape with a chosen image imprinted into the metal. When the trip was over Adler had collected sixteen of these pennies and I bought him a penny passport where he’s stored them and shared them with others.

My favorite memory of the trip was neither a destination nor a place. For me, the best part of the trip was throwing a Frisbee with Adler in Yellowstone Park and seeing the big smile on his face. For him it was the two of us isolated from the world. Our location was irrelevant. He was happy just being there with me as was evident by the joy on his face. Did I need to drive 8400 miles to make this memory? I don’t know the answer to that question. But the journey was worth it to discover. That’s what I’ll cherish most—a moment when nothing else existed for Adler save for a cheap plastic disc and someone he loves to throw with.

Consider these the photos that roll during the credits. The "outtakes" so to speak...