The idea of the great American road trip is so romantic, so full of adventure, who hasn't thought of giving it a go? The road calls. Go west. Head south. Feel the history of your place. See the prairies, the mountains, the rivers you've read about. Or take the grandest road trip of all. Drive the distance, all the way across. Think of the places you'd see, the roads you'd travel. The Pacific Coast Highway. Route 66. The Oregon Trail. Roads that were first made by feet in moccasins, then rutted by the wheels of prairie schooners, then lined with chrome diners, where you can still find waitresses who call you "honey."
Last winter, my family decided we'd put off the dream long enough. We chucked a half-ton of gear into a rented minivan and pointed ourselves west. By "we" I mean my husband, Hans; our son Nick, age ten; daughter Georgia, seven; and me. By "west" I mean we drove from Massachusetts to the beginning of Route 66 in Chicago, and from there to Los Angeles. On the way back, we dipped south through the width of Texas and came up through the Appalachians.
Crossing America turned out to be the most memorable few weeks of our lives. To feel the sheer immensity and geography of our country was reason enough to go. Then there was the fun of being together and seeing all the things we'd only heard about. Every day was a new adventure.
Please keep in mind that phone numbers, addresses, and prices are subject to change. Updated August 2005.
