It’s now Monday morning. After spending a wonderful day in Denver with my friends, it was time to move on. The mileage on the car now read 123628 and I set out looking for I-70 West. Now, I knew I’d be driving through the Rockies, but I never imagined this. I’ve driven through the Smoky Mountains on numerous occasions and I’ve loved it every single time, but this drive was on a completely different level, literally. Up and down and side to side, the interstate winds through this beautiful mountain range and provides such unbelievable scenic views from every angle. It was another crisp, clear morning in Colorado, which only made the drive that much better. I had been on the road for over an hour and each turn seemed to provide a better view than the previous one, a few of which I put at the top of this post. But they kept coming and kept coming. With every elevation drop came a new set of picturesque views and with every rise came another. Hell, you even drive underneath a mountain for a while through the Eisenhower Tunnel. Through Vail, through Eagle, through temperature changes, there was something different to see.

A little after 3:30, I entered state number five on my journey, Utah…Life Elevated. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect here. I’d always heard nice things about Salt Lake City, but that was much further north from where I was. What Utah gave me, however, was possibly the best stretch of road I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. For one, the speed limit had jumped to 80 in many places, so that was nice. But the feel of this open road with more scenic views than I ever expected was heavenly.


Another great thing about Utah is that those pictures you see is how that part of that state really is. It’s not those views, then a city, then those views again. It’s all scenic highway. At one point, there’s a stretch of about 60 miles where there are no services available. Then, you get to Green River, Utah, and they’re sure to let you know that if you need gas, then get it here, because there is another 106 miles where there are no services available to you. The only signs you see is to let you know there’s a spot you can pull over to take some amazing pictures, which I took full advantage of.



So, I’ve been in Utah for a couple of hours and I see yet another place to pull off and it looks absolutely beautiful, so I do. Only this time, the rest area, if you want to call it that, is really close to the mountain range. There’s a small parking lot and beyond that, there are actually a few smaller looking mountains that look climbable, even to somebody like me. So I get it into my head that this is going to happen. I’m in jeans and a t-shirt, but I’m going up there. Now, this was not a large mountain by any stretch of the imagination, but when is this opportunity really going to present itself again? So I start to climb, immediately after having a cigarette of course, but I did make it up eventually. Just one more thing I can say I did on my travels, I guess.


I will admit that coming back down, I nearly took quite a spill. I actually had to run the last portion of it due to the momentum that I had built up after tripping. I can only imagine how long I could have been there had I actually fallen, as I had only seen a handful of cars since I entered the state. But, I did make it down and continued on my way. The next car I saw put a smile on my face. The license plate was from California and looked like your average family just heading home. But the little girl in the back was smiling and pointing at my car and I’m pretty sure that my Illinois plates had just given her a point in the classic license plate game. I’m not sure why that made me so happy, but it did. Soon after that, the sun would finally set on my scenic views. There was no rest area, but I pulled to the shoulder and just sat and watched as the sun disappeared behind the mountains. The slight glimmer bouncing off of the top of the mountains created an orange sky that I don’t think I’d ever seen before and it was breathtaking. Who knew that Utah was capable of such beauty?

After a few more hours, I made it to I-15 South and soon entered Arizona for a little while before finally hitting my destination for the night: Las Vegas. Now, most people I know that have been to Vegas have flown in, but if you ever get the chance to drive in, I highly recommend it. There’s a point where you come in and all of a sudden, you know you’re close because the light that comes from that city is truly astonishing. Look left, look right, they’re just everywhere. But once you get into the heart of Vegas, it’s exactly what you think it’s going to be. I pulled onto the Strip at about 10:30 Pacific time on a Monday night and the streets are just jammed with people. I checked into my $215 room, which I booked for $35, at Harrah’s, took a quick shower and hit the town. And again, it’s exactly what you think it’s going to be. I took a little stroll down the Strip (Britney Spears was nowhere to be found), and just headed back to my hotel. I sat in the casino for a little while just playing some cheap slots, because that’s what my dad would have done. The nice thing about Vegas is that no matter what you’re playing, even if it’s penny slots, is that as long as you’re playing something, you don’t have to pay for drinks, so that was nice. I hit the roulette wheel after a bit, pretty much broke even, and called it a night around 4:30. Sorry, I don’t have the crazy Vegas stories to tell, but that’s how it went. Outside of the occasional prostitute telling me how lonely I looked and that I could use some company, my night in Vegas was pretty uneventful. I think people watching is the best thing to do there. It’s 3 a.m. at the roulette wheel and you’ve got the drunken couple arguing, while only five feet away, the 80 year old grandmother is still trying to hit the progressive jackpot at the slot machines. Meanwhile, the all-girl group is still screaming at the top of their lungs, while the all-guy group is still trying to figure out how they’re going to get those girls back to their room without drugging them. And then there’s me.

It’s funny what Vegas does to people. For me, it just seemed like another night. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I went, but to be honest, what I took out of that day had nothing to do with finally making it to Sin City. Believe me, I’ve sinned enough for multiple lifetimes and I didn’t need Vegas to come to that realization. The time I spent on the road that day was priceless. It really gave me a chance to think about so many different things that have gone on in my life, and the drive itself was exhilarating. Honestly, the drive from Denver to Las Vegas could really be made into one big metaphor for life. You go up, you go down, you go left, you go right and everything in between. I’ve been on top of a mountain and nearly killed myself on the way down. But then there’s beauty again. And then there’s darkness again. And then all of a sudden, in the middle of nowhere, light. As far as the eye can see.

It’s Saturday morning, February 22, 2014 and I’m finally ready to go. Honestly, I didn’t even think I was going to be able to leave. That Thursday night, I had taken my daughters to their mother’s house after spending an incredible week with them. I had them for nearly a full week after making a deal with my ex-wife to trade some days so I could take this trip and we had the best time. We played and watched movies at the house. I had taken them to Monkey Joe’s that week and took them to dance class right before I dropped them off, which truly broke my heart. I knew I needed this trip, but knowing that I wouldn’t see them for a whole week was tearing me up. I thought maybe this was a selfish adventure, that I was only thinking about myself. But the more I thought about it, I knew this trip could help them as well as myself. I stayed as long as I could, getting as many hugs and kisses as I could before leaving them. Admittedly, I teared up the entire drive home. But, I knew I needed to get ready to go. However, when I arrived home, I went to grab my laundry so I could begin packing and I walked into a flood in my basement, at least an inch or two of water all the way around both sides of my basement. I knew right then that I wasn’t going anywhere. I spent the next few hours trying to suck up as much water as I could to no avail. Finally, at around 2 a.m. it was time to stop. That entire Friday was spent watching the professionals put in new equipment and extract all the water from the basement, which seemed to last forever, not a good thing when I’m paying them $125 per hour. But at long last, all the water was gone. Equipment was left to help dry the carpet and the walls and all that was left to do was wait. I still didn’t feel right about leaving, but with some heavy persuasion, I set out to leave on Saturday morning.

On a dreary Saturday morning at exactly 8:30, I finally pulled out of the driveway. The mileage on my car read 122677 and I’m heading to Denver. My original plan was to go to Kansas City that Friday night, and then to Denver, but with the basement fiasco, I decided to just drive to Denver in a day. Now, I knew this first part of my journey wouldn’t be overly exciting, but I certainly wasn’t expecting what the day would bring. It started just as I thought it would. It’s February in the Midwest, so it’s obviously cold and windy. There’s still a ton of snow on the ground as I hit I-74 going west. I’ve traveled these roads so many times before that I’m quite certain I could do it with my eyes closed, but I decide not to try. Soon enough, I find myself on I-80 West and I soon entered Iowa. I’ve driven through Iowa before, and if you’ve ever done it, then you know just how awful that is. A few miles into the state, I see a sign for “The World’s Largest Truckstop”. That’s how boring Iowa is. The only saving grace of that state was exactly 200 miles into my adventure, where I stopped in Brooklyn (one of my daughter’s names) just to have some sense of closeness with my girls, who I missed so much already. I passed through Des Moines around 12:45 that afternoon, the only decent-sized town I would go through in Iowa. Riveting, I know. But at least the sun had come out, so that made the drive a little more bearable. Now, the great thing about road trips sometimes is that you get a little reward when you leave a state to enter a new one. After hours of trekking through Iowa, what is the reward I receive? Nebraska.

For those who haven’t been through there, let me tell you that Nebraska is the worst. I’d spent a few days in Omaha back in 2001 and that trip didn’t end well. Omaha is right on the Nebraska-Iowa border and doesn’t even look pleasant driving in. Here’s how exciting Nebraska is. When you first enter the state, they have a sign that says “Nebraska….The Good Life. Home of Arbor Day.” That’s what they’re selling. The worst part is that to get to Denver, there is no short way to get through Nebraska. You basically have to go ALL the way across the state to get there. I knew I was going to be there for a while, so I just turned up the music and pretended to be somewhere else. The one positive thing was that on the interstate, they did have a 75 mph speed limit. Obviously, even the government wants you to get through Nebraska as quickly as possible. So I mosey along, actually making really good time, until around 7:00 p.m. I’m somewhere near North Platte, Nebraska and I know I’m only a few hours out of Denver, so I’m starting to get pretty excited. I have plans to meet up with an old friend and I should be able to check in by about 9 p.m. and meet up for drinks. Then, a few flakes. Then, a few more flakes. Then, a ton of flakes. It’s now to the point that I can’t see five feet in front of me, forcing me to take the next exit. Without getting into the details of all the yelling and fist pounding, this goes on for the next FIVE HOURS! At this point, I was really starting to question my decision to leave home at all. What I wanted out of this trip was to find some peace and some clarity and I was just pissed off. All I kept thinking to myself was that I had just gone looking for more trouble. All this from one snowstorm. And that was the problem right there. I took a snowstorm and turned it into the worst thing in the world. As aggravating, exhausting and frightening (seriously, people nearly ran me off the road on multiple occasions) as it was, it was only snow. And all of a sudden, it was clear.

I finally reached Denver a little after 1 a.m. and promptly got lost. If you’re not familiar with the downtown area, it can be a little tricky. The good part of it was that I saw a lot more of Denver that night than I had bargained for as I ended up making a loop around the heart of the city and saw quite a few of the landmarks and all of the stadiums. Finally, I checked into my hotel around 2 and was ready for some sleep. I knew I’d have to adjust my schedule a bit as I didn’t want to just go to sleep and leave in the morning, so I decided that I would stay there an extra day. So I made the necessary arrangements that needed to be made and readied myself for bed, ready to weather any storm that could come my way and eager to wake up and start again.

Lessons learned from day one: Just stay calm and stop overanalyzing everything. And stay away from Nebraska for the rest of eternity. No, seriously. It’s awful.