Our trip around the USA has come to an end. As things started, we laughed at the suckers battling sky-high airline tickets and canceled flights, then promptly wept the first time we paid $5/gallon for gas. There’s no winning in the summer of inflation.
Gas prices aside, we loved traveling around the country by car. It’s not accurate to call this a complete American road trip despite having driven 6,800 miles. Here’s a short overview of what we did:
Five national parks
A few new cities and lots of cool towns (Cleveland, St. Louis, Fayetteville, and Nauvoo, to name a few)
Six Airbnbs
Two hotels
1 case of COVID a piece
Six days in Arkansas with my cousins, the Pahulus
12 days in Montana with the Stevens
19 days in Utah with the Farnsworths
13 days of just driving
I thought I’d come home with a remarkable perspective like Steinbeck and other road trippers who’ve explored the tapestry of America. Profundity never came, though I won’t let it stop me from sharing a few thoughts that crossed my mind as we traversed the country. I’ll then rank/categorize the states we passed through, and with any luck, offend the locals.
America’s Wacky Creations
When you drive across the country, you sense that America used to possess a combination of quirk and ambition that produced things unimaginable today. For example, Mount Rushmore. Could something like that be accomplished in 2022? The size, location, craftsmanship — all of it seems like it could only have happened in the past. 1
The same thought crossed my mind as we visited the Gateway Arch, the New River Gorge Bridge, and the Blue Ridge Highway (which we saw last year). Who would build these now? Who would even dare?
The Ups and Downs of Small Towns
I’ll argue, somewhat contentiously, that 2018-2020 created the worst PR for small towns thanks to the one-two-punch of the 2020 presidential race and COVID-19. Both events dragged out the worst of people’s behavior.
Tensions ran high as Trump sought reelection, and throwing the issue of masking, vaccinations, and “freedom” onto the fire made many rural places much less friendly than before. 2
While still contagious, COVID is less harmful than ever and the public is moving on. The same goes for the tiresome, dwindling cult of Trump. I expected to see “Trump 2024” flags as we drove through the rural parts of the country, but in all that time on the road, I saw only a handful. 3 Small towns have returned to their quaint and quiet ways.
Many rural towns we drove through are booming, not with political action but with people. The main street is full of open shops spilling with tourists and locals. Real estate prices in the small towns of the Mountain West shot through the roof in the last year. Other towns, like those in rural Iowa and Illinois, appear to be dying. Empty shops line the road, boarded over with plywood. Remote work and urban flight are not lifting all small towns the same.
The Domination of the Burbs
I’ve been pondering this question, lately: where can you go in America that is totally distinct? Somewhere unlike any other town, city, neighborhood, etc? Mark Twain is incorrectly quoted as saying “There are only four unique cities in America: Boston, New Orleans, San Francisco, and San Antonio.”
The suburbs are the antithesis of this question. Where can you go in America that’s most consistently alike? My answer is fifteen miles outside any major urban area. Is there much difference between Beaverton, Oregon, and King of Prussia, Pennsylvania? Between Sandy, Utah, and Decatur, Georgia? Between Rockville, Maryland, and Overland Park, Kansas? The natural environment looks a little different and some local eccentricities creep through, but the similarities outweigh the peculiarities.
As we drove, we discussed where we could potentially live were we to move out of Maryland. While we have preferences, the truth is we could live just about anywhere near a big city (among other places). Sure the suburbs of Cleveland, St. Louis, and Salt Lake City might look a little different, but the lifestyle would be nearly interchangeable. 4
Ranking the States
This is completely arbitrary, mostly for fun, and entirely opined on limited data. Let me preface all of this by saying that America is extremely beautiful. Even the middle of the country which seems to have more corn than people has a pastoral serenity that makes for a nice drive.
I’ve come up with four categories. “Get Me Out of Here,” “Hmmm, Pleasant,” “Wish I had more Time,” and “Outrageously Beautiful.”
The “Get Me Out of Here” States
Nebraska: We never ventured far off the I-80, though we did spend a night in the suburbs of Omaha. Sorry, Nebraska. Until we get more acquainted, you’ll always be 455 miles of drudgery.
Best Part: Dropping down the hills in Omaha and overlooking the Missouri River.
Wyoming: All the best parts of Wyoming are near the edges. I-80 takes you through some of the most forsaken country in the U.S. Oddly, you’re cruising along at 6,000 ft elevation, but instead of mountains, it’s flat, grey, and windy.
Best Part: The antelope?
Kansas: Even in the arguably more scenic side of the state, we immediately had the itch to ride on through.
Best Part: Pittsburg had a cute downtown.
Idaho: Another gorgeous state where we had the misfortune of driving through the most boring part: I-15. Idaho also has the bad luck of standing between Montana and Utah, and typically, we’re trying to get to one or the other.
Best Part: The pine-covered mountains near the Montana border.
The “Hmmm, Pleasant” States
Michigan: Here was another state we slipped into just to say we’d been. I can’t say we saw much except more corn, though it was very green.
Best Part: Not paying a toll for a few miles.
Iowa: The contrast between Iowa and Nebraska is subtle, yet the rolling farmland is almost beautiful enough to make you want to throw on some overalls and step onto a tractor.
Best Part: Corn!
Indiana: We crossed Indiana twice, once at the very bottom on I-64 with a pitstop in Santa Claus, a cute little town with a small museum and Santa statue, and again across the northernmost part of the state.
Best Part: Indiana Dunes National Park on the southern shore of Lake Michigan.
Kentucky: Kentucky could also be included in the “Outrageously Beautiful” states below, especially the hilly western side. Nelson was napping as we passed Louisville so we didn’t stop, unfortunately.
Best Part: The Daniel Boone National Forest.
Illinois: We were lucky to take a lot of backroads in Illinois as we journeyed from Nauvoo up to our farmhouse Airbnb in Tiskwila. The flat, corn-covered country is repetitive yet pretty. All the big windmills add some interesting things to look at.
Best Part: Nauvoo and Carthage Jail.
The “Wish I had more Time” States
Missouri: St. Louis was underwhelming, though the Gateway Arch was unfathomably big. We stayed a night in a cute river town called Washington and stopped in Kansas City a week later as we made our way to Montana.
Best Part: BBQ at Q39 in Kansas City.
Ohio: We spent our last night of the trip in Cleveland and scratched my itch for a nice city after so much time in the rural Midwest. We stayed in an old home in Tremont near the Christmas Story house (complete with the leg-lamp in the window) and had some time to explore a few neighborhoods the next morning before we left. A stop in Cuyahoga National Park completed the Cleveland experience.
Best Part: Tremont, Ohio City, and Downtown neighborhoods
Arkansas: Fayetteville was our home for a week. It’s a great college town with affordable food, beautiful parks and pools, and a neat downtown. It also had one of the best used bookstores I’ve ever seen, Dickson Street Books. We only saw that northwest corner of the state but loved the vibe.
Best Part: The town of Eureka Springs.
South Dakota: We drove the entire length of the state but it wasn’t until the far western edge that things got crazy. The first stop was Badlands National Park which in June made for a sharp contrast between the green prairie and the stark white rocks that rip up the earth. We wish we had more time in Rapid City, and Mount Rushmore was even better than expected.
Best Part: Driving the Badlands Loop road.
The “Outrageously Beautiful” States
Pennsylvania: I don’t know if there’s a place in the United States that captures my ideal landscape better than Western Pennsylvania. The deep rolling hills and dense forests call to me. We’ll be making a trip to Pittsburgh soon.
Best Part: The stretch on the 422 from New Castle to Kittanning.
West Virginia: Is there any state more consistently beautiful than West Virginia? Morgantown was a fun little stop, and I always love driving past the golden Capitol Building in Charleston.
Best Part: New River Gorge National Park.
Montana: Montana is a gorgeous state. Like its neighbors South Dakota and Wyoming, half the state is flatter and uglier than you’d like, but the western side is a pine paradise. After enduring 100-degree weather for the first 10 days of the trip, Montana was a welcome reprieve.
Best Part: Missoula continues to be one of the coolest towns in America.
Utah: My homestead has to be on the outrageously beautiful list. No state has better mountains, especially so close to the population. Despite a drought, it was greener than expected. I spent every morning reading on the back porch watching the sun come up over Mount Timpanogos.
Best Part: Utah Valley mountains.
Maryland: Maryland shouldn’t count on this list, but as we got closer to returning, I was jittery with excitement. While this trip gave us the chance to explore new places, at least for now, I’m glad to be back and to live in such a beautiful place.
Best Part: Home
Could you imagine the culture wars that would be fought trying to get the bust of two slaveholders carved into a mountain on Native American land? Twitter would erupt! Crazy Horse, the profile carving further south in the Black Hills, has been in the work since 1948 and isn’t close to completion.
A lot of my feeling here is anecdotal. My mother-in-law, a school teacher in rural western Montana, felt the brunt of weirdos protesting mask mandates and all sorts of “injustices”.
This was in sharp contrast to some trips we took in 2019 and 2020. A drive into rural Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, or Delaware showcased hundreds of Trump signs.
I wonder if people in other countries feel the same way about their suburbs. Does living 20 miles outside of Paris feel the same as 20 miles outside of Lyon? Are the neighborhoods outside Rio de Janeiro all that different from Porto Alegre? Or have other countries maintained more distinction between their suburbs?