The notion of solo walks and road trips as a cure for the pandemic blues occurred to me as I saw an uptick recently in readers visiting my blog here. Most navigated to posts on some of my personal travel exploits, especially New York City walks across the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges and a hike from Penn Station to the Guggenheim Museum on the upper East Side. Many visitors pointed their browser to the post on the book I wrote about my long, itinerary-less drive down U.S. Route 1 from Northern Maine to Key West during the summer of 2014. Were readers, I asked myself, searching for uncomplicated, easy ventures to escape months of home confinement as we fought the spread of COVID-19? I’ll never really know since those visitors didn’t leave any comments besides the breadcrumb trail they left to and within my blog.
But since I’m always on the lookout for reasons to write about travel, I thought I’d cobble together a little guide on ventures as—at least in the Northeast—the pandemic slows and we emerge from our cocoons into the warm, humid days of summer. An alternate theme might be: How do I start getting around without having to deal with the airlines and seatmates who often wear their masks over their eyes as a sleep aid?
First, consider those ventures that lie right under your nose. Here’s an example from one of my sojourns. During the summer of 2005 I decided to walk the 20 miles along State Route 9 from my home in Clifton Park, N.Y., north to one of our favorite destinations: Saratoga Springs. My family and I had made the trip via local Route 9 and the nearby interstate hundreds of times. But if you asked me any questions about the scenery along Route 9, I would have been hard-pressed to come up with anything interesting save for some ramshackle motels and a few convenience stores. So, one Sunday morning I set out from home to walk the route. I walked on the west side of the road, against southbound traffic. That’s always the safer approach. I ended up on sensory overload. Tiny grasshoppers jumped toward me from swaying brush alongside the four-lane road. I noticed for the first time varying types of guardrails, steel cabling, and fences just off the breakdown lanes. I discovered previously unnoticed, sleepy hamlets. I saw many buildings abandoned by businesses who fled when traffic was siphoned off onto nearby I-87. One new scene after another jumped out and helped me understand what I had been missing from the cozy confines of my car. Birds I had never noticed swooped up and down, some finding roadkill. There was little or no shade. I began to wilt under the blazing sun. I made repeated forays into my backpack for ice-cold sodas. And the hills. I had never noticed some of the steeper slopes that slowed my pace. Two-hundred horsepower automobiles render those inclines invisible to the hurried traveler. It took me twice as long as I expected, but about six hours later I called my wife and she drove up to rescue me in downtown Saratoga Springs. I had given some thought to making it a round trip, but the blisters on my feet and aching back said otherwise. Live to walk another day, I thought.
Second, when asked if he would run for president, former New York Governor Mario Cuomo was fond of saying, “I have no plans, or plans to make plans.” After decades of various, whimsical meanderings on foot, via bicycle or driving, and on the airlines, I have arrived at one conclusion: the fewer plans the better. I’m not saying you should go into any venture cold, without benefit of a little advance research or a reassuring Rand McNally Road Atlas by your side, but give yourself the latitude to simply experience the trip, without resolute focus on your destination. Adopt the simple mantra of, “It’s all about the trip itself; not the end point.” Make time to stop and absorb something you hadn’t anticipated seeing. On more than one occasion, I have whistled by something interesting while driving, only to pull off to the right, turn around, and return for a closer inspection. I was never disappointed, although I angered a few drivers with my erratic course reversal.
(The cover photo above is an image I snapped this week as I exited Interstate-88 in Cobleskill, N.Y. Which one of these signs would you follow to an unplanned destination?)
Third, familiarize yourself with Google Maps. One of my favorite hobbies is to launch this software on a browser, point it to a location I’ve never visited, and explore it from the satellite images Google so graciously provides for free. I use it for some advance planning, but I also use it to daydream about where I’d like to go. It was on Google Maps years ago that I noticed the local highway that roughly parallels I-95 from Maine to Miami. A few years later, I launched my 2,400-mile drive down U.S. Route 1, making unplanned stops to visit interesting sites or just talk with people I met. Often, I find that hours of my day have evaporated after starting with one silly little Google Map venture to, say, Los Alamos, New Mexico. Yes, that’s the site where we developed the first atomic bomb…but that’s a subject for another post.
Fourth, don’t talk about it. Just do it, as the Nike marketing folks started telling us decades ago. If you think about it too much, you’ll find a reason not to go. Faced with a looming pandemic in March, for example, I took off on a road trip through central/northern Vermont and back home through upstate New York. I had zero advance plans and my decision to go was spur of the moment. I was so inspired by the trip I wrote about it on my blog.
Fifth, take notes, take pictures, and maybe even record some audio on your smartphone. You’re probably not planning to write about your venture but why not have some material in case you want to tell others about it? Often as I sit in museums and other interesting sites people eye me suspiciously as I scribble notes or snap a few shots. I ignore them. You’ll be thankful later when you decide you do want to write something but can’t remember everything.
Sixth and finally, try and accept that this type of travel has one goal: a temporary change of scenery. Nothing more; nothing less. You’ll be refreshed. You’ll be inspired. And maybe you’ll tell us about it.
By the way, if you’re interested in one of my own lengthy, involved adventures of this ilk, once again here’s a link to the book I wrote about my solo drive down U.S. Route 1 in 2014. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about how wonderful that trip was. Even though I’ve done a lot of amazing things in my life, I still treasure every moment of that trip. I’m planning another one like it soon.
