We zoomed cross country during our frantic escape, eager to leave the scene of the crime. Well, there was no escape, there was no crime. But we were escaping the last legs of our youth as we were both 27 and we could feel our past in the rear view mirror chasing us down, yelling come back, come back, don’t leave me here! The year was 1980.

I had just left my job in January and before beginning the arduous routine of seeking out and interviewing for various marketing jobs, it was time to fly. So we did. I had just purchased a brand spanking new Datsun (now Nissan) 280ZX. The X version of the 280Z had just been introduced. This car demanded to be driven cross country.

I hadn’t intended to buy the ZX, of course. One of my roommates at the time (I shared a house with three friends) was going out to buy a new car and I told him I would tag along. When we got to the Datsun dealer, as he was talking to a salesman, I casually looked around and then there it was. The intro of the 280ZX. I looked at it, nabbed another salesman and bought it on the spot. My buddy was appalled! “We came here to buy ME a car,” he protested. I let him know in no uncertain terms that this car called to me and grabbed me. So, we made a deal on the spot – he would buy the car I owned, a Toyota Celica, and I would wait for my ZX to be delivered.

With that same impulsivity, a few weeks later I roared off to the Western skyline and began our cross country journey in the Z which barely had 1,000 miles on its odometer. Youth could kiss my ass goodbye.

Was I escaping? Well, yeah, in a way. I couldn’t wait to get away, see the West, see the whole country. Ever since my dad had flown our family out to Arizona in 1968 for a vacation, I had had visions of returning and conquering my own west, my own demons. It was the cowboy in me, I guess. We Americans are all cowboys, even if we’ve never been out west, never saddled a horse, never worn a Stetson. It’s in our American DNA: Go west, young man. Westerns starring John Wayne and directed by John Ford. Don’t fence me in. We worship the wide open ranges (even if they aren’t quite so wide open anymore), the galloping mustangs, our freedom to go off and do stupid things like leave without a job and go cross country. Except this wasn’t stupid, this was life-affirming.

And although I did not know the next step of my career, I have never regretted making that journey. It was amazing. We started out from Long Island, headed south to pick up Rt 40 down in Tennessee, then floored the monster toward the west coast. The rural American South gave way to the farmlands and plains of the Midwest and then we arrived in Texas. The highway was wide open, no cars for miles and I floored the Z, deciding to test the car through the desert. I quickly hit 120 mph and for the first time in my young life, could not believe how quickly a slight bump in the road ahead was now already behind you. We were flying!

We stopped at an eatery somewhere near Amarillo – my memory fades trying to remember the town. But I’ll never forget the experience. I had ordered a western omelet and it was packed with heat. Texas heat. Poblanos, habaneros ignited the egg creation and was packed with other flavors from the ham and onions I’d never before experienced along with the hash browns and Texas bacon. My mouth was on fire. Extra glasses of water were inferior to the increasing swelling of my tongue, lips and throat. When I tried to speak to my girlfriend, my voice was gone, a thin rasp of damaged vocal chords. It was one of the best meals I had ever had.

We travelled on, driving north toward Denver, CO and shivered through the January deep cold there. Hint to travelers: don’t sleep in your car in Denver during January, get a room! We then powered our way toward the Arizona desert. There I returned to some of the sites my dad twelve years earlier had introduced my family to: Painted Desert, Petrified Forest and of course the Grand Canyon. We drove into Phoenix since this was the first city I had fallen in love with out west. We continued our journey since we had to arrive in San Diego to stay with my girlfriend’s relatives for a stretch. Then we continued on into Los Angeles where we did the whole Hollywood thing including attend a taping of the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. We enjoyed the L.A. beaches including Muscle Beach and Venice and then headed north to San Francisco and the Pacific Coast Highway. Taking in the Redwood Forest and many other amazing sites, we then arrived at Yosemite National Park.

Well, that was a game changer for me. I’ve since visited most of the national parks but Yosemite was the most spiritual and beautiful for me. I was struck by its majesty.

We took our time as we headed home, wanting to take the northern route, Interstate 80, to complete our trip, heading back east to the scene of the crime. I remember a great steak dinner in Ames, Iowa, a hurried visit to Chicago, the rest lost to the fading memory of time.

Years later, in 2001, I did it again. Except this time, it was with my family in tow. My company was very generous in its benefits and vacation policy. I had five weeks vacation. What better thing to do than go cross country. After all, my kids were 10 and 8 and my wife was adventurous. So we loaded up the Forester (no Z this time) and took off for the left coast again. This time, the car barely had 700 miles on it but I had bought it knowing we needed something rugged (AWD) and roomy for two preteens in the back seat and lot of luggage room.

At the first national park, I purchased a National Parks pass. We could pay $20 for each national park or pay $50 and see as many as we wanted. We got our money’s worth. Bryce Canyon, Zion, Arches, Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, Yellowstone, Badlands and Devil’s Tower were just a few national parks we fell in love with on that trip.

But it was more than NPs as we did a whitewater raft trip in Moab, explored Fisherman’s Wharf and other sites in San Francisco and took a detour to Las Vegas as the kids decided going to a casino would be awesome. They got the biggest kick out of putting a few quarters into various slots until the guards quickly caught up to us and put a stop to that since the age limit was 21. No big deal, at least they had lost only a few coins while trying for the big jackpot.

There are so many other memories and stories I could share. But that is not all this piece is about. It’s about you. Get out and explore this country, its 3,000 miles from east to west. You don’t need an RV, you just need a vehicle, maybe a tent if you want, a debit/credit card and a whole lot of curiosity. On my first trip, we used good old-fashioned maps and a U.S. road atlas. I still always keep a new national road atlas hidden beneath my driver seat even though today’s GPS systems will guide you anywhere.

Planning? Never! Get in the car and move! Drive until you’re tired or hungry or you find a paradise you always wanted to check out. Find a motel/hotel and next morning, as you order your coffee, decide where you want to go next. Check your GPS or map (I do recommend perusing the national or regional maps in the road atlas to see the big picture and narrow down to your next target – because you will see places on the maps you’ve always heard of but have never experienced). Then destination known, set your coordinates in the GPS and sit back and zoom off and enjoy the nearby sites and the ride.

It’s not a bad idea to know some sites – historic or not – that you want to explore. Friends and relatives, when they know you are getting ready to begin your adventure, can be a great source of ideas. I always love referrals since they are from people you know and trust.

I never once made a hotel reservation on any of my jaunts and you don’t need to either. Use your phone to find available and reasonably priced accomodations along the way. We always get great deals as the motels and hotels are constantly battling each other to provide the lowest or best rates within each category (i.e. budget all the way up to luxury). And you don’t even need to negotiate. Lock it in on your phone and when you arrive, make sure to show your confirmation number that you just received on your phone and head up to your room. While there, get the lay of the land, have fun, take in the local culture and eats, then decide: Should we stay or should we go? Let your heart be your guide.

Soon you’ll be in your next destination, your next space and do it all over again. Throw out the rules. Do what you want. If there is a must, a side trip you’ve always wanted to take, now’s the time. Gas up. If you are at the half-way mark and the odometer has crept up to 3,000 or 5,000 miles, you can always pull into a “jiffy” or “quick” oil change place to refresh and thank your vehicle.

Talk to locals, they can always provide you with insights and great suggestions for events or sites nearby. Once you get used to having no or little agenda, you’ll love the spontaneity but also the wonder of just how enormous and diverse this great country really is. It is amazing how much it changes from the heavily forested and densely populated Northeast to the more casual and rural South to the wide open plains states to the deserts of the Southwest to the beauty and many vistas of California to the rugged beauty of the Pacific Northwest to the cold, forested and desolate northern states – then realize you’re getting crowded again when you hit Chicago and points east.

It is not like a destination vacation such as when you plan a trip to Paris or Bermuda or New Zealand (although a few unchartered side trips wherever you travel is absolutely required). When my wife and I honeymooned in Italy back in 1989, we planned our trip with a round trip flight into Geneva, Switzerland and 10 days later a flight home from Rome, Italy. The only other reservation was a hotel room in Geneva, two train tickets to Venice and a Hertz car rental in Venice. Each day it was the same drill – get in the car, decide where to go and what to see and then take off. We drove down the Adriatic coast of Italy and when we were near the southern tip, we headed west where the Ionian Sea was to our south. When we couldn’t go west anymore, we turned north and pointed the car toward Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii, continued north along the Amalfi coast, took in Florence for a few days then headed back to Rome for our last few days of freedom. We returned the car to Hertz at the airport and reluctantly but happily boarded our plane to return home.

Again, no hotel reservations and we did stay at a few inns. Absolutely charming and totally memorable. We always get a room and definitely always enjoy some of the best meals of our lives.

Whatever you do, leave the planning to the planners. You’re a cowboy, remember? So wander along, be a nomad for a while; after all, your phone and GPS and wallet can be your guide. Be free. Be curious, really curious. It’s the best time you will enjoy for years. And the stories and pictures you return with will never go out of style.

Chris Ebel
10/31/21

Photo credit: @rootdesign