My 6-Week, 23 State Road Trip

by Talia Snyder Romero '26

art by Madeleine Babcock '26

What do Dido, Beastie Boys, and Beyoncé all have in common? They’re vastly different musical artists, but they all kept me sane throughout my six weeks of cross-country road trip.

I have never been much of an outdoors explorer nor a lover of crossing state boundaries. I don’t even know how to drive on the highway, but what I do know about spending days on the road, frenzied searches for campsites, and trekking across varied landscapes comes from my family’s six-week cross-country road trip.

Those who know me best know that living in three different countries on three different continents is what primarily shaped my childhood, so when my family first moved back to Virginia, I was filled to the brim with jittery excitement. America was the huge country that I’d heard so much about but had no concrete memories of. Singapore, which had been my home for five years, could fit into the United States 13,673 times. Almost all of my extended family, who I’d only known by different voices on long-distance phone calls, lived in the U.S. From January to June, we crashed in guest rooms or on couches with friends and family. And as July approached, my parents sat me and my 13-year-old sister down to tell us what they had planned for the next month and a half. The purpose of the road trip was not to provide my sister and me with a fun tour de America. Rather, it was an alternative living situation for my family until we could move back into our house at the end of the summer due to a renting conflict.

I had looked forward to moving back into our house that I had seen so many pictures of. I wanted to get to know the neighborhood where I would attend the next two years of elementary school, and my sister and I didn’t care to leave the only U.S. state that we were only just getting to know. My parents had illustrated deserts and mountains, long hikes, sleeping at stuffy hotels, and learning to camp, which didn’t seem particularly glamorous or compelling to me at 9 years old. Despite a significant amount of whining and

crocodile tears, on a Tuesday morning at the beginning of July, my family set out from our pit stop in Bethesda, Maryland, to visit my Grandma. We were headed to my very first American beach in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Naturally, spirits were high. My parents chatted excitedly as my sister and I stared out the window at the changing scenery, trying to spot the coolest looking state license plates, getting particularly excited when we saw the bright colors of New Mexico and Nevada. Once we drove further north, we lost our staple radio stations of 99.5 and 97.1 (Shoutout DMV kids). We couldn’t bop to “Get Lucky” or “Blurred Lines” anymore, so we switched to a small bubblegum blue iPod on which my parents had downloaded a couple of random MP3s. My dad put on “December, 1963,” as he discussed the history of the iconic New Jersey quartet, the Four Seasons. In the melodic chorus of, “oh, what a night”, I heard the sweet velvety voices that made up one of my new favorite genres: 1950’s doo-wop.

Soon enough, we arrived at our first stop. I got to play on the warm sand of my first Atlantic Ocean beach, splash around in the chilly sea water, and stroll down the boardwalk ogling at all the different dollar stores, arcades, and, of course, pizza, candy, and ice cream shops. It was a great first stop, but I was eager to venture further north.

Our next destination was New York City. On the way, my parents couldn’t resist putting on Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ “Empire State of Mind,” as well as my sister’s and my favorite tracks from Curious George (2006) and Enchanted (2007): “Upside Down” by Jack Johnson and “That’s How You Know” by Amy Adams. In the Big Apple, we pranced around on FAO Schwartz’s giant piano, saw Cinderella on Broadway, and marveled at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum.

The next day, we were all set to head up to the American-Canadian border to see one of the largest waterfalls in the United States. Until that point, we had stayed in cities, staring at shopping centers and tall office buildings out the window. But as July 4th rolled around, we were preparing to cross into Canada and have our first night of camping. We entered Ontario, headed to a campsite, picked out a camping spot, and got started. This brings me to my first piece of advice for going on a cross-country road trip: don’t travel with two tweenagers who don’t see the appeal in sleeping outside in humid mosquito-ridden forests after long, boring days spent on the road. But if you are planning on doing so, please teach said tweenagers how to pitch a tent beforehand. Otherwise, they will be grumpy and obstinate like my sister and me, unhappily listening to our parents throw unintelligible instructions about how to construct our six-person Coleman tent to the left of the gold minivan.

From then on, my sister and I understood that if we wanted to get a good night’s sleep, we needed to listen to our parents and try to get that tent pitched as soon as possible. The couple of nights we spent in Canada became family races against the quick-to-set sun. However, all the pasta and PB&J meals, silly games of Uno in the tent that seemed just a bit too small to fit six people, and nighttime trips to tiny gas stations and grocery stores bonded our family closer than we had ever been before. Now look back on our time camping in Canada with an appreciation for types of forests and landscapes that I’d never seen before. While we, unfortunately, didn’t catch sight of a moose at Algonquin Provincial Park, I still marveled at the Painted Turtles and several species of toads and frogs.

I think of Ontario as the destination where my family reached an understanding of what the rest of the trip would be like. We truly only had each other, and it wouldn’t help anyone to complain, especially on our five-hour trips from state to state. During those longer drives, we would sometimes play word games like 20 questions or the alphabet game, but for the most part, we just talked about what we were looking forward to or our favorite parts of the day. Hilarious inside jokes emerged from the miscommunications our family encountered with my sister sitting on the left and me on the right.

Once re-entering the US, we headed towards National Park Central. Our next couple stops took me to states that I had never heard of–Michigan, South Dakota, Wyoming, and Utah. My first ever national park was Pictured Rocks which was crowded and looked pretty similar to the view I’d had out my window at Lake Michigan for the past three hours—nine-year-old Talia was unimpressed. We spent about an hour

and a half there, slept in a motel, and left for Badlands National Park in SD the next morning. It was stiflingly hot when we arrived at Badlands in the afternoon. The sun glared on the desolate landscape where trees couldn’t grow due to the dry, infertile land. With no glimpse of shade in sight, other than the standalone visitor’s center and bathrooms, my first impressions about national parks were not so good.

As we drove through the large western states to reach Wyoming’s three National Parks, music, once a uniting force, became an issue. The driving days began to extend past three, four, or five hour increments, and I began to grow tired of certain iPod music. My mom was the head commander of the minivan and had first choice in music. So we most often listened to Janet Jackson, Pat Benatar, and Madonna. While the iPod on aux had some tracks that my whole family enjoyed, like the Cranberries, Adele, and Nelly Furtado, we could only listen to the MP3s my parents downloaded so many times. Thus, we began to radio station surf endlessly, and the tune that we most frequently heard was ear-scraping static.

Here, I’d like to give my advice on another road trip must: the music. During a road trip, it is vital to set station-surfing parameters. For example, our family rule was to only surf for three minutes to find a station the whole family agreed upon. Another aspect of auditory entertainment to consider is how you want to compose the selection—I think having a joint streaming service between you and your road tripping companions is a great way to start so that you can all contribute to one collaborative playlist. However, you could also consider a fun audiobook, or educational podcast episodes about a topic that everyone enjoys.

My family and I settled on rereading A Series of Unfortunate Events novels on our way to Grand Teton National Park. There I finally began to see more of the appeal of the magnificent beauty that the parks could hold. We then moved on to camp at Devil’s Tower, where we had an almost sleepless night due to the strong gales off of the 5,000-foot-high isolated rock formation, straight towards our campsite, only about a mile away. The wind was so powerful that it noisily blew over our tent, pushing down the top so far that it touched our faces as we lay awake. Looking back on the moment, it could have been incredibly annoying and tiring, but my whole family simply laid in our sleeping bags laughing about it all.

Following our time in Wyoming, we entered one of my favorite places on the trip: Yellowstone National Park. We entered the park through Wyoming and after crossing into the Utah quarter of the park, we prepared to set up camp. After we found a camping spot early enough in the afternoon and pitched our tent, we prepared to make our delicious dinner of campfire rice noodles and tomato sauce (rice noodles due to my father’s gluten allergy). We had set our camping pot over the stove with the noodles and water, and it was just beginning to boil when dark gray rain clouds covered the sky in a matter of seconds. We cautiously tried to continue making our dinner, and as soon as the noodles finished cooking and we strained them, the sky opened up. We ran with our precious noodles to the minivan. Without the space or energy to portion out the noodles onto four plates, we dumped the sauce into the pot that my mom held in the middle of the car, and all ate crouched over it. Thus, my fifth piece of advice: consistently check the weather to watch out for any strong wind or rain showers heading your way, and of course, ALWAYS put a tarp over your tent.

From Yellowstone, we drove through Nevada to reach the Grand Canyon. It was a truly monumental sight. Breathtakingly rust red, it expanded for miles and miles in front of me. I hadn’t felt so small in a very long time, even while peering out the car window, watching wide open fields time and time again. We made a couple of stops in California to visit family and friends before we entered Arizona.

In Arizona, we explored Tucson and explored Saguaro National Park. I had created my mental image of what the Sonoran Desert would be like from the portraits of the “Wild West” cartoons like Tom and Jerry had painted for me. But I would never have imagined that I only stood at half the height of a Saguaro cactus! The iconic symbol of the American desert swept out in front of me for miles and miles. I was frightened at the thought of accidentally entering the prickly nightmare of a maze and getting lost.

After Arizona, we drove through New Mexico to see some friends and the iconic Roswell area (they swear they’ve seen infamous UFO sightings). After sledding down the dunes of White Sands National Park, we had just about hit the center of the southwest. By then, my family had checked off several of our road trip to-do and we had almost visited all the friends and family we were set to visit. The next states on the agenda didn’t have many parks, monuments, or memorials we were very interested in stopping at. Thus, we continued our drive through the northern tip of Texas through Oklahoma and Arkansas. After the long cumulative 14hour drive, split into a few nights of camping and hotel stays, we had hit our home stretch.

It had then been a month, and my parents’ wedding anniversary was in just a few short days. We saw the campus where my mom and dad fell in love, ate at their favorite studentbudget delis and diners, and even visited their very first apartment before they moved up north to Virginia. While we stayed at our parents’ friend’s house, my sister and I schemed to make their anniversary day special. We walked to a grocery store, picked out simple freezer foods, and asked to use various uncomplicated ingredients from a friend’s pantry. We even found printer paper to illustrate two semiidentical menus for our special anniversary afternoon tea. We brought them little cucumber sandwiches, tiny teriyaki mushroom and shrimp skewers, and the mini chocolate Haagen Daz ice cream cups. My parents were shocked and impressed by our innovative spirits, which for the most part came from my sister.

Our road trip was a truly incredible experience. I learned to understand the sheer size of the country and visit remarkable sights that I’d heard so much about. We got to see Mount Rushmore, Venice Beach, and the world’s largest pistachio in New Mexico. In total, we traveled through 23 states, hit 9,292 miles, two great lakes, visited 13 national parks, and around 30 different family members and friends. It was my first time meeting two of my grandmothers, two great grandmothers, and various aunts, uncles, and cousins. My sister and I had always been glued to each other, but through the trip, we learned so much about my parents. We’d grown up hearing stories about where my mother and father grew up, and I was so happy to get to experience New York and North Carolina.

If you are thinking about taking a crosscountry road trip or just heading to a couple of different states for a week or two, then, my sixth and final piece of advice would be to simply go. Take the opportunity to visit different states, bond with your friends and family, visit other loved ones who live a little farther away, explore the nature the United States has to offer, and marvel at each of the stunning landscapes and sights you pass on the way.

If you’re interested in the music that I would bop to if I had to take another cross-country road trip, listen to my playlist inspired by this article.