The west will try to kill you if you're not careful: Hazards

Weather

In the west, and particularly the mountain west, the weather is subject to rapid change without warning. I've personally experienced this when a squall came in without warning one time when I was just outside of Bailey, Colorado. I was parked at a gas station for roughly an hour waiting for the storm to pass. However, I'd rather be parked at a gas station for an hour than at weather's mercy. Do not drive past your usual skill level. If you're used to driving in snowpacked and icy roads and have the vehicle to navigate it, great. But a mountain pass isn't exactly the place to put it to the test for the first time ever.

Blowing snow is not uncommon in high elevation basins in Colorado (basins are large swaths of flat land surrounded by mountains in almost a bowl-like setup. The elevation in the flat parts of these basins can be upwards on 8-9,000 feet). It's like being caught in a pure white tornado. If the road is more or less clear, tailgate the hell out of the car in front of you or find a reference point you can work with and make room for the fact that you may be very disoriented after.  Use this advice for dust storms as well.

Road Closures

The west is very rural, meaning that the infrastructure does not have the means to salt and plow every inch of road when there is a weather event. And given that it's so often sunny later the same day, it's not uncommon for it to melt. Some mountain passes close seasonally, check on this if you're traveling in the winter. At times entire sections of interstate will close in between towns. Interstate 70 in Colorado will close at times from the Kansas border to the Denver metro area because there are not enough towns and travel centers to accommodate everyone who will need to pull off. If this is the case, there will be a bar across the road and a sign telling you to return to where you just passed. Sometimes this message may be shown on those boards that dot the interstate. However, in rural areas don't expect advance warning. Once I made it all the way to the New Mexico border only to be told to turn back. The nearest road to properly take me to my destination split off 30 miles behind me.

As I mentioned earlier, downloading the road conditions apps can help give you as much advance knowledge as possible, but sometimes things just come up. Road closures in the rural west are a fact of life which means traveling in the area requires a certain flexibility.

Wildfires

Wildfires are common in the west in the summer. When the conditions are dry and windy enough, they can develop and spread without warning. Unfortunately they are incredibly common and have been devastatingly destructive in years past. Trips to the west June-September will probably put you within close range of at least one as it's not uncommon for multiple fires to be going at the same time. Stay alert, check the road closure apps in populated areas before you head out into the sticks and for the love of God turn around if a sign asks you to.

Animals

The west has animals. They're beautiful and majestic and unique. They are also not to be interfered with. Take pictures from a safe distance if you chose to (meaning you aren't struggling to stay perfectly still so the coyote 20 feet away doesn't come charging at you). Don't feed them as it is a) illegal and b) ignorant. If you see a baby animal with no mother, do not intervene, the mother is probably not far behind. Animals very rarely attack at random, don't provoke it and it won't mess with you. If a wild animal begins acting very friendly towards you, get away from it as it may be rabid.

One special note about the moose: If you or you car decide to challenge a moose, there's a very significant chance that you may die. When a car hits a moose, it doesn't hit the body like it would with a deer because moose are HUGE. It hits the legs, which causes the moose to topple over onto your car, killing or injuring whoever is inside). Be especially careful driving in rural areas after dark for this reason.

Private Property

Vast swaths of land in the west are publicly owned, but much if it is family ranches and private land. You may feel like you're in the absolute middle of nowhere with not a soul around. This may make you feel comfortable with the idea of crossing a fence and going up that hill to get a better look and to take pictures without consequence, but chances are that land belongs to someone who doesn't take to kindly to visitors. The Progressive commercial where the three bears sarcastically say to Flo, who broke into their damn cabin, that they love visitors so much that they moved to the rural country accurately sums up my father, who will be a country dweller as long as he will live. I would imagine this sums up the character of many rural inhabitants. They are there because they don't want you to bother them, plain and simple. It is seen as extremely disrespectful to go on to someone's property without their permission. Another the thing that sums up the character of rural inhabitants is both the ownership and competent usage of firearms (if you've never lived where no one would hear if you screamed, do not debate these people about gun control). If you see a No Trespassing sign, it's not meant to be a suggestion.

Altitude

Denver sits at 5,280 feet, literally. Denver is the last of the Great Plains and is back dropped by mountains, meaning it only goes up from there. Driving in Colorado will top out at 10,000 feet, no exaggeration. If you are not used to this, you will probably experience a few days of sluggishness known as altitude sickness. Rest, more water than you've ever drank in your life and time are it's only cures, but it does improve. For symptoms worse than sluggishness or malaise brought on by dehydration, go to the hospital.

In a nutshell, if you come to Colorado from New Jersey and expect to accomplish a 5 mile hike in the mountains the very next day without any issue, you're not planning well. Commonsense and a respect/deference to local customs will get you 90% of the way in any situation you may find yourself in. The rest is chance.

Pre-Departure Advice Your Mom is Probably Giving You

Pack comfortable clothes. I usually travel in a jeans, tennis shoes, t shirts and hoodies. It's a utilitarian uniform that these days blends into most backgrounds. Bring your comfiest pajamas, hotels are pretty difficult to sleep in. Makeup and hair stuff if needed, any medical stuff. No toiletries, the hotel will have those. I've slept with earplugs in practically every night since I was 18 so I make sure to pack those, but to each their own.

If you're at the point where you need your oil changed, do it before you depart and go to a place that will top off fluids and check for basic issues. The last time I traveled they found that I had a dry, cracked serpentine belt. I was able to get replaced before I departed, thankfully or else I probably would have been stranded in very rugged country. Take care of your car, it will take care of you.

AAA memberships are literally built with the road tripper in mind. In addition to the discounts, it's good to have in your back pocket in case something happens. Even though I know perfectly well how to change out a flat tire by myself, the machines that put the bolts on tires anymore screw them on so tightly that I just do not have the brute strength to get them off.

For travel snacks, it's easy to just munch on gas station food but do yourself a favor throw some fruits and vegetables. A steady diet of processed gas station food will leave you feeling very sluggish. Sodas, while vital to staying awake, are also bladder irritants. Plan accordingly.

Good sunglasses are essential for driving in the west, especially if you're in any open prairie or desert situation. The sun is just brighter at higher elevations than at sea level. One thing I've noticed is that sunglasses with a brownish tint will make the landscape pop, especially if you're in the red rock country of New Mexico, Arizona or Utah.

A paper road atlas of the United States is ESSENTIAL, as well as knowing how to use it. GPS's and smart phones will work on most, if not all, interstate highways via one of the major carriers and have data coverage. However, in some parts of the west the second you leave the interstate system you devices may either cease to work or be operating on a sparse local cell phone network sans data that may rack up roaming charges should you chose to avail yourself of it. Save yourself the hassle, frustration, and ultimate cost and invest in a simple United States road atlas, available at most travel center gas stations for less than $15. 

Now, I'm about to contradict myself. One function of smartphones that I love for travel is the road condition apps. Most states' Departments of Transportation release free apps for smartphones that will show real time road conditions (ie, Dry, wet, icy, snowpack, closed, accident, etc). I've made a habit of downloading these apps before I leave for every state I intend to travel through and check them when I'm in a populated area with cell phone signal. This is relevant for all seasons in the west as the threat of wildfires and rock slides in the summer is very real and will close roads. Speaking of apps, TripAdvisor makes a free one that's great for finding restaurants, lodging and attractions.

Other than that, take an open mind. Safe travels!

Introductions

Hello, my name is Harper. I'm a Denver based 20 something professional female who loves to travel. And when I say travel, I don't mean an all inclusive resort. I've developed a very specific style of travel that has become a part of the fabric of my being and born out of patterns that kept replicating themselves throughout my life. This is the most I intend to write about myself, but below is a rundown of who I am, what I do, and why. Read this whenever you feel or just look at the pictures. It's cool.

Northern New Mexico, March 2010

When I was 7, my mom took me and my then 5-year-old brother on a road trip from our hometown in North Carolina to her hometown just outside of Chicago over the course of 2 weeks, stopping roughly 4 times each way to and from to stay with various friends and family members. And I loved it. I grew up on a tree farm that spanned hundreds of acres without a neighbor in sight. Aside from trips to Chicago with my mom when I was a baby and a roadtrip that happened when I was too young to remember, this is my first recollection of being on an interstate. I became fascinated by the interstate highways, the local peculiarities like the way the symbol for state highways changes with each state, the way each state has to give you a quick rundown of local laws when you cross its borders, the way it becomes apparent when you do cross borders that you've definitely crossed from a high tax state to a low tax state, the slow buildup from rural to city and dizzying flurry of excitement that is driving in a city on the interstate. Each subsequent roadtrip, each new state traveled to was a welcome adventure.

View of the pond on the farm in North Carolina

I learned how to drive when I was 8. This shocks most people, as it probably should. I got it in my head that I wanted to drive. After not letting the damn issue be for long enough, my dad broke and taught me how to drive the truck. Our driveway was a half mile long, gravel, and almost completely obscured by trees. It was about as safe an environment for an 8 year old to learn how to drive a truck as you could possibly simulate, except for the trees. Oh, and the giant body of water on one particular side of the driveway. Oh and on the other side of that body of water is a land made dam that the driveway traverses and is characterized by a very steep drop. As I grew more comfortable, my dad let me starting at age 10 to drive the truck up and down the driveway by myself. By age 13, I was allowed to drive back roads from my dad's house to my mom's house, the bulk of which is hilly terrain. The day I got my drivers license when I was 16, I was chomping at the bit to get behind the wheel of that same truck by myself. My dad told me that I was free to drive around and wander as long as I stayed within the confines of our county. Not a problem, our county was large enough with enough twists, hills, and back roads upon back roads that I was constantly finding new terrain to cover. I would leave for hours at a time, take my CD collection with me, and not allow myself to back track. I had to find my way home using only my cardinal navigation skills. Running around in the woods every afternoon as a child instilled this in me in such a way that GPSs make me feel robbed. I used this method to help me process all the bullshit that came with being a damn teenager. To this day, nothing helps me destress quite like a good drive.

On the way to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, 2006. For the record, I held that pose for 20 minutes.

College brought me to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania and my truck stayed in North Carolina. Free public transit with my student ID made it easy to get around the city, but there were times of distress where I wanted nothing more than to drive around and think shit out. The fact that I couldn't do this was almost more stressful than whatever I was upset about to begin with. It would appear the mold had been set, and that an instinct for flight would kick in quarterly. Furthering this mold was the fact that I was a member of my college's marching band, basketball band, and concert band for four years. I attended a division 1 school (Go Pitt!), so this meant several times per year traveling with the band to a different school. These trips had odd departure times like 3:30 AM and other hours of the day that shouldn't exist. These trips at times were so lengthy that we would have to stop in New Jersey to get a different bus driver or else they would break union rules for our all night haul to Connecticut. I loved those trips. In addition to the antics that would occur with being college kids on a road trip, being in a moving vehicle like that was a serene experience, like hanging out with an old friend.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

I attended graduate school in Denver, Colorado, which is exactly how I ended up here. After graduation I came to North Carolina for 2 weeks before my mom, myself and my friend Dawn set out for Denver in my recently obtained car. I call her Vivian. She's an important actor on this blog.

She earned this after driving through intense blowing snow. South Park Basin, Colorado, January 2013.

That trip, and the ones that followed, were the first in my life to truly be on my own terms. They were times of intense processing and self discovery, spur of the moment trips to meet a friend off the internet in Minnesota, up and leaving for LA the day I was unceremoniously fired from a job (don't worry, I landed on my feet. And it was actually a paid suspension, but fired packs more of a punch), spontaneous turns up dirt roads in New Mexico, moments of panic in the Utah desert as my tank sat on empty, watching as the landscapes transformed in front of me. I have loved every last moment of it.

Southern Colorado, January 2013

Northern Arizona, January 2013

Western North Dakota, February 2014

Wherever I go, however, my modus opperandi is always as follows. I am always alone. I am driving 5-12 hours per day. A loose route and series of destinations is determined beforehand, but I am in extremely rural country. No cell phone signal? No problem. And no GPSs allowed. I used to collect maps and every state's welcome center as they always have them for free, but now I just keep a United States atlas in my car at all times. I sleep in mid range chain hotels (more on why I do that later). I only eat at chains in moments of desperation, otherwise its “they're looking at me funny and the service is awful but I'll be damned if these aren't the best huevos rancheros I've ever had” local. The music I play has to match the scenery. Funny signs are photographed, tourist attractions are waved off. My trip will last 3-5 days. No partying and the only alcohol consumed will be something local I've never had and in limited quantities. No fun driving for 6 hours hungover. Itinerary can be subject to change. Many a time I've slept in a different state than the one I intended on that given night. Sometimes you just don't clock as many hours as you intend. Sometimes you don't get much sleep the night before because you forgot to pack earplugs again and suddenly you're exhausted at 3 in the afternoon and really don't want to sleep at a rest area. And sometimes you remember you're a professional with a job you need to be at at 9 am on Monday.

Best food ever.

My intention for this blog is to update it twice per week with an account of some aspect of somewhere I've traveled. A profile of a hidden gem of a small town. A great motel I found once. A great restaurant I found once. An epic stretch of road. A weird sign. I will also update this blog on future trips I may take. I'm doing this to one: share more with my friends and family about these trips (those who know me have experienced at least once me taking off without warning. Those who really know me are no longer shocked when this happens) two: to demystify this part of America. The west and southwest are special, vast, beautiful places, and three: to encourage other women not to be afraid to travel alone. Every time I take one of these trips someone feels compelled to make a remark about how I put my safety at risk, or ask if I ever get scared, or even in one sick case joke about the horrible things that could have happened to me because I went camping alone. But then again I've always been one to believe that if someone were to seek to cause me harm, they would be ones with the problem, not me. And given that I use these trips for quiet introspection, I'm usually not looking to make friends. I've had a couple of tense moments, but nothing truly awful. Also, the crime rate in America has been dropping steadily since 1991. Quit letting the local news brainwash you into thinking you live in a war zone and go live your damn life.

Let's do this.