12 Lessons I Learned Driving My Late Grandpa's Car On A Solo Cross-Country Road Trip
When I found out my grandpa died a few months ago in late April 2019 -- just one month after his 93rd birthday -- I flew down from New York City to South Florida for his funeral. During that time of catching up with family, talking about the great stories of his life and going through photo albums, I found out my family had planned on shipping my late grandpa's car across the country to my cousin, who lives in Denver, Colorado. As a solo traveler, I've visited various cities and countries alone (some I've returned to multiple times) but I'd never driven across the country before -- or, really, seen much of the United States except for high school band trips and journeys with family and friends in the Northeast. And so, I volunteered to drive the car on a solo cross-country road trip.
I drove around 4,000 miles along the scenic route through seven states and spent time in various places I probably would never have visited otherwise. I drove through mountains, hills, cities, small towns, ghost towns, plains, deserts, thunderstorms, what felt like eternal darkness, and drove through various time zones while acting like a time-traveling Doctor. In the end, I met countless new people and guardian angels.
Here are a few lessons I've learned while on my solo cross-country journey:
A picture of my late grandpa’s car while on a road trip within a road trip around Big Bend National Park in Texas in June 2019.
1. There are moments when in your life when nothing goes according to plan.
I had no idea when I flew down to South Florida that I would be leaving for a cross-country road trip alone. On the flight, I'd only brought a few items of clothing because I thought I'd fly back up to New York City after the funeral. Instead, I was on the road for about forty days and forty nights, exploring the United States and driving many roads less traveled. The more I tried to hold onto a schedule, the more fate seemed to shake me at the core and release me from any expectations I'd had for myself. I looked ahead on my trip, but like many of my previous solo trips, I didn't plan more than 24-hours ahead because I was incapable of looking at everything in advance.
2. Tell your family and loved ones you love them, because the time may come when you can't tell them ever again.
I was laid off from my job in September of 2018, which had been a bit of a shock at the time but had turned into quite the blessing: I was able to take various solo trips across Mexico City and Europe and also be there for my grandpa during what turned out to be the last few months of his life. As a World War II veteran, we talked about his time in service. We also talked about my grandmother who passed away in 2014 and I helped him move into assisted living and then talked on the phone with him when he was in hospice. If I had been working, I would have missed many of these moments.
Pulled over to the side of the road to get a photo of these stunning mountains in Texas in June 2019.
3. Going on a solo road trip across the country is actually deeply spiritual.
A lot of people in every city and town had asked me why I was traveling across the country alone, and in each response I told them that my grandpa had died and I was driving his car to my cousin in Denver. One of the last times I had driven my grandpa's car was to take him to and from Thanksgiving dinner. As the trip continued I grew concerned and protective of the car's safety because the trunk was packed full with my grandpa's possessions for my cousin. What would happen if someone broke into the car? On the journey, as I drove the countless hours along highways and cities and the middle of nowhere, I felt like I was guided.
4. Things break but in the end, they're just things.
Before I left for my cross-country road trip, I was excited (and nervous) at the thought of using my grandpa's camera to document my travels. I'd had a few photography lessons with him when I'd visit South Florida, and I liked bonding over something he enjoyed. The first part of the trip was all about having fun with the camera and experimenting. However, things happen and cameras break. I brought the camera in to be reviewed while on the road but ended up going to B&H back in New York and then having the camera repaired at a place they recommended. Things break and, like the palm/tea leaf reader I went to in New Orleans said, attach to the memory, not the thing.
Facing the entrance of El Cosmico, a bohemian campground with yurts, tents, trailers and a whole cast of characters in Marfa, Texas. I stayed in a tent for two weeks toward the end of May and early June, 2019.
5. Long drives on the open road can be therapeutic.
In the beginning, I dreaded the long drives on concrete highways filled with other cars beneath a hot sun. I worried that I'd be cramped in the driver's seat, having to pull over every few miles to stretch my legs. I worried about boredom. After the ten-hour drive from St. Petersburg, Florida to New Orleans, Louisiana, I didn't want to be stuck on a highway in traffic. However, once I entered Hill Country in Texas, the drive became much more enjoyable. I went on a mini road trip to Big Bend National Park in Texas and the entire day consisted of driving. I loved the mountains emerging from the expansive desert. Driving on the open road allowed me to clear my head and soothe my thoughts. The long hours spent driving became a solace for me. All my worries faded away and I eventually looked forward to the long drives. When there was no one around, I found peace within. The car still functioned, I thought. The car was still here and so was I.
All my worries faded away and I eventually looked forward to the long drives.
6. There’s a power in letting your inner voice guide you.
My cross-country road trip was initially supposed to last for 12 days. I left on May 10 and intended to get to Denver the weekend of May 18th... but that day came and went. After revisiting the same hostel I stayed at earlier in the year for a NASA media tour and Mardi Gras, I met a few new friends and reconnected with people I had met the first time I stayed. I wanted to explore my country and get to know people I wouldn't normally have crossed paths with back in New York City. I had a lot of doubt but with each place from New Orleans to Fredericksburg to Santa Fe, I knew when the time had come for me to leave. When in Marfa, a small town with a population of a few thousand and an elevation of 4,685 ft, I intended to stay a few days but ended up staying for two weeks. I got to know the town, the art, explored Big Bend State Park, tried to see the "Marfa Lights" and then happened to be in town a few days before the nine-day Agave Festival. I extended my stay in a tent and attended the various talks and panels of the festival. I released (or tried to release) any worries I'd had about the journey and give in to the world around me.
Exploring the McNay Art Museum in San Antonio, Texas on my solo cross-country road trip over the summer in 2019.
7. Sometimes, help will appear as if out of nowhere if needed.
Over Memorial Day Weekend, I decided to take a short hour and change drive from Fredericksburg, TX to San Antonio, TX. The hotel I had stayed at in Fredericksburg was sold out that night, and as I later found out, most other places (except for a hotel with hundreds of dollars of suites) was sold out as well. My stomach twisted in knots, I went to the McNay Art Museum, named after founder Marion Koogler McNay and Texas' first museum of modern art, to clear my head but after looking at art I couldn't shake the feeling of needing to find a place to stay. A bit desperate, I asked one of the workers at the museum if she could help, and through a bit of guidance and working with a few other workers in the area, they told me that they'd help me find a place. One said I could wait in the library while they talked among themselves, and then a few minutes later the worker came up to me and said a friend had told them there's of a stretch of road with motels that are fine. Thankful for the information, I tried to enjoy walking around the San Antonio Riverwalk, the Alamo and a speakeasy located inside a house, but I couldn't shake the idea of not having a place to stay and ended up driving back to that bit of road and booking a motel... which ended up fine! Relatively inexpensive, reasonably located. The next day I went to The Pearl and bought some mint iced coffee and lemongrass salve to soothe my skin and my nerves. I then returned back to the comfort of the metal bar owned by the women from Luxembourg and had Guinness to soothe the soul.
The interior of the McNay Art Museum in San Antonio, Texas in June 2019.
8. New friends and guides will also appear out of nowhere if needed, too.
The first night in Fredericksburg, after I asked the hotel owners what I should do that night, recommended a metal bar which would be fun to check out. I went, and I met the most interesting group of people. After explaining I was on a road trip going to Denver, a couple gave me a bunch of great tips for the journey. A German expat with a cowboy hat, travelers from Dallas, and loud metal music in a shadowy yet inviting interior greeted me. Everyone had a thought on what to check out and everyone advised on the best method in which to do it. To descend hundreds of feet into the cool depths of Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico (check), visit the hotel and campground El Cosmico in Marfa (check, before proceeding to stay for two weeks in a tent), driving along the Rio Grande in Big Bend State Park (check) among other things. I'd had such an incredible first time in New Orleans for Mardi Gras I was worried when I visited again I would be disappointed... which I needn't have been. I met great people and had fun at ghost tours, speakeasies and general shenanigans in the French Quarter. Coincidentally, I'd meet a lot of other people on respective road trips as well, like the group of girls in my Houston hostel who were doing my route but reversed -- from the west coast to New Orleans -- which soothed my nerves.
Dining alone is always a part of the solo travel process and sometimes, I meet people and sometimes I don’t. However, it’s always an invitation to treat yourself in New Orleans, Louisiana. Photo taken in May 2019.
9. Trust the car. Trust the process.
When I travel alone, I normally only worry about myself. I don't have anything (besides a passport and relevant documentation) to really worry about. However, on this trip I had my grandpa's possessions. In the very beginning and throughout the trip, the lights of the car would come on and illuminate the dashboard like a holiday tree only to sometimes disappear while driving. The tire light went on and off a few times on my drive and each time I brought the car in the tires were fine — one time they were slightly over-inflated. I’ve heard the phrase “Trust the process” floating around multiple times over the years. A friend I stayed with in St. Pete said to trust the car. Life is going to happen anyway and it felt like I’ve been fighting the current when working in New York City. When I’m traveling, things just work out.
10. Don’t “get over” anything. Work through the emotions.
Toward the end of the trip, specifically after leaving Marfa, I was consistently on the brink of tears. I panicked about driving on mountain roads and having the journey coming to a close. I worried about returning to my "old" life. I worried about giving my grandpa's car away because on the long drives I'd actually grown quite attached to the car. I worried about honoring my late grandmother's birthday on June 16th while on the road and I worried about my own milestone birthday of reaching 30 years old. I cried when I left New Orleans, Fredericksburg and Marfa. The journey continued and I drove on and kept going on, and yet, the emotions still swirled around inside of me and on the highways and mountains and deserts. Loneliness. Fear. Anger. Anxiety. Happiness. Sadness. I worked through these emotions and, in a way, these emotions show that we are alive and stronger than we think.
An absolutely stunning drive through the southern portion of Texas in June 2019.
11. It's possible to have a road trip within a road trip.
One of the happiest moments of my cross-country road trip was taking a long solo day trip drive from Marfa down 67 toward the Rio Grande and then following the river along through Big Bend Ranch State Park before driving through the small town of Terlingua and then cruising along Big Bend National Park. I spent most of the day driving and stopping to absorb the beauty of nature in this remote part of Texas. The bartender who recommended the drive up a mountain to the Basin when in Big Bend said I’d be seeing a part of Texas hardly anyone gets to see and yeah, I believe it. Hardly any cars. Hardly any people. Nothing but the open road and the beckoning sky. I cried in the car at one point because of the winding roads, the towering mountains, the vast desert and witnessing the sheer power of nature. I drove to the middle of nowhere among mountains and desert and trees and instead of finding loneliness I found a deep sense of peace.
I drove to the middle of nowhere among mountains and desert and trees and instead of finding loneliness I found a deep sense of peace.
12. Everyone experiences grief differently. It's OK to find your own way to heal.
Five years after my grandmother's sudden death, I was finally beginning to come to terms with her passing and not panic whenever her death day approached or when her birthday on June 16 -- four days before mine -- rolled around the sun. And then... my grandpa died a few weeks after his birthday and two months to the day before mine. Grief is constantly changing. Some days are OK. Some days, I can go through hours without thinking about my grandparents. And yet, I always think about how much they sacrificed in order to get me to where I am today. After driving my grandpa's car across the country, I realized that their stories haven't ended. My grandparents' stories continue in a variety of ways including retelling favorite memories, looking through pictures and intentionally using their possessions -- like a solo road trip across the country.
A tribute to the 1956 film “Giant” starring James Dean and Elizabeth Taylor on the side of the road outside of Marfa, Texas. Taken over the summer in 2019. Yes, I did stop my car to take a picture and yes, there was live music as well.
