The Unexpected Truth About Traveling America: It’s Not Just About Seeing Places—It’s About Meeting People, Living Stories, and Rediscovering What It Means to Belong
49 states in ten years means road trips to everywhere.
When most people think about traveling the United States, they imagine ticking off famous landmarks, snapping selfies by iconic backdrops, or maybe just rushing through airports trying to get to the next big city. The popular narrative often revolves around convenience, speed, and the big, glossy, marketed “must-see” spots. But my experience traveling with my eight to eighteen-year-old daughter completely changed my understanding of what it means to explore a country — especially one as vast, complex, and diverse as the United States.
The surprising insight I want to share is this: to truly know America, to understand Americans, you have to get on the ground, take the slower roads, and most importantly, talk to ordinary people in the small towns, national parks, and places off the beaten path. It’s about the stories you find, the connections you make, and the unexpected moments of shared humanity that no guidebook or Instagram post can capture.
A Journey Begun Not for Sightseeing, but for Bonding
After writing my novel and navigating the challenging but rewarding role of being a full-time single father, I realized I wanted something more than just a vacation for my daughter and me. I wanted an education that transcended books and classrooms—a real-world curriculum steeped in discovery, connection, and presence. I wanted to prepare her for the bubble of higher education before she traversed those treacherous roads. So we decided to explore this great land together. Not from the air, not from the window of a speeding train, but from the driver’s seat of our car, with the open road stretching ahead.
There’s a special kind of intimacy in a road trip. You feel the contours of the landscape, the climate changes, and the subtle shifts in culture. And with an eight-year-old curious about science, nature, and history, every stop was a chance to connect her wonder with the land’s story.
Glacier Bay, Alaska to Glacier National Park, Montana: Learning Science in the Wild
One of the first major legs of our journey was up to Glacier Bay in Alaska and Glacier National Park in Montana. For a science-loving kid, these were living classrooms. But it wasn’t just the expanding glaciers, the ancient ice, or the wildlife that made an impression—it was the people we met: park rangers who shared their decades of knowledge, locals who’d lived in these rugged places their whole lives, and other travelers who, like us, sought meaning beyond postcards.
At Glacier Bay, we witnessed the power of nature’s slow but unstoppable processes—ice sheets carving valleys, glaciers calving into the sea. It sparked questions about climate, history, and humanity’s footprint. I remember a ranger telling us about how the glaciers were expanding faster than anyone anticipated, making me think about the resilience of the natural world. Rangers took down the signs about retreating ice because the glaciers were growing.
National Parks: America’s Living Cathedrals
Of course, no American road trip is complete without the pilgrimage to the national parks. Sequoia, Yellowstone, Yosemite, Teddy Roosevelt’s cabin—these are places where nature feels almost sacred. Yet the surprising thing was how each park revealed a different American identity.
Sequoia taught us about endurance and the passage of time through its towering ancient trees—trees that survived fires, storms, and centuries of change. Yellowstone was a lesson in the raw power of the earth beneath our feet, the buffalo that thrived there, reminding us how small and interconnected we all are. Yosemite’s majestic cliffs told stories of exploration, challenge, and reverence. Roosevelt was America’s primary conservationist, and his example informed us about the importance of preserving America’s natural legacy.
But beyond the landscapes, it was the stories of the people we met—old-timers who shared their life histories, rangers with an abiding passion for conservation, families camping together—that brought these places to life. It was through their voices that the parks stopped being just destinations and became living cathedrals of American identity.
The Heart of America: Mount Rushmore, the Little Bighorn, Memphis, New England
We also made stops at iconic cultural landmarks: Mount Rushmore, with its powerful symbolism of American leadership and the complicated history of the land; Memphis, with its soulful musical legacy and echoes of civil rights struggles; and New England, where the roots of the nation’s founding and revolutionary spirit come alive in historic towns, and the Little Bighorn which told the narrative of Manifest Destiny.
But here again, what surprised me was not just the landmarks themselves, but the everyday people who live around them—their stories, struggles, and hopes. At Mount Rushmore, a local guide shared stories of American accomplishments by a few of America’s great leaders, and the monument’s grandeur is overwhelming. In Memphis, a musician at a small club told us how blues and Stax music were forms of celebration and healing. Sun Studios was packed with ghosts of my favorite blues artist, The Howlin’ Wolf, and the ghosts of the Million Dollar Quartet live on.
In New England, a historian recounted the stories of the American whaling industry and frontier democracy at Mystic Seaport and Old Sturbridge Village — a recreated early 19th-century rural village.
The Routes That Connected Us: Northern, Middle, and Southern Roads
Because my parents lived in Arizona and we were based in Pennsylvania, we had a natural rhythm to our travels. Summer breaks became a time for northern routes through the Rockies and plains, middle routes across heartland towns and cities, and southern routes soaking in the warmth, hospitality, and culture of the Deep South.
Each route offered its own cultural texture, its way of seeing America. In the north, there was a rugged, pioneering spirit coupled with vast wilderness and resilient communities. Middle America revealed a quieter, often misunderstood heartland where traditional values mixed with evolving identities. The South was a place of rich storytelling, deep culture, and enduring hospitality.
The Lesson: America Is Not a Monolith — It’s a Mosaic of Stories
What all these journeys taught me is that America cannot be reduced to a single story or stereotype. It’s a mosaic made up of countless narratives, each contributing to a larger picture of what it means to be American.
Too often, the media and popular culture package America in oversimplified terms—urban vs. rural, liberal vs. conservative, coastal elites vs. heartland commoners. But spending time in person, listening to the voices of people from all walks of life, reveals a complexity that defies easy categorization.
The Value of Slowness and Presence in a World That Races
In our era of nonstop digital distraction, fast flights, and instant everything, I found a surprising antidote in the deliberate pace of road travel. Driving across states, stopping in small towns, camping under the stars—these experiences allowed my daughter and me to slow down and be present.
There is a famous quote from walking naturalist John Muir: “Does the stagecoach go faster than I? Why should I hurry when I see so much to admire?”
This captures John Muir’s belief that traveling too fast, like by stagecoach, makes you miss the details and the deeper connection with nature. For Muir, walking was about slowing down, noticing the world, and truly being present.
Being on the ground creates space for serendipitous conversations: the diner owner who shares local lore, the gas station attendant who offers a tip on where to get the best local barbecue, the farmer who talks about the changing seasons and his family’s legacy.
These moments build empathy and curiosity about the majesty of America and the Americans, the kind that can’t be downloaded or Googled.
The Power of Travel to Build Connection and Understanding in an Age of Division
What’s most surprising to me is how much these trips, taken in a time of social and political polarization, actually helped bridge divides. By meeting people face-to-face, hearing their hopes and fears, we began to see the threads that bind us more than the walls that separate us.
I remember a conversation in a small town café with a retiree who held very different political views from mine, but who loved his community deeply. Our shared stories of family, hardship, and hope created a bridge that neither news headlines nor social media could build.
A Story of Father and Daughter, Discovery and Growth
On a personal level, these road trips became a crucible for our relationship. My daughter’s questions pushed me to think deeply about history, nature, and society. Our shared discoveries created memories that will last a lifetime.
I saw her develop not only a passion for science but also a love for storytelling, a curiosity about people, and an openness to the world’s complexity. These were gifts I could never have given her through a screen or textbook alone.
Affirmation: The Best Way to Know a Country Is Through Its People
So here’s the affirmation I want to leave listeners with:
If you want to truly know a country—whether it’s the United States or anywhere else—go beyond the landmarks and the curated images. Get on the ground, take the roads less traveled, and listen to the stories of ordinary people. In their voices, you’ll find the real heart of the nation.
As the great American writer Studs Terkel once said, “Everybody has a story.” And sometimes, those stories, told in the humblest of places, hold the most profound truths.
Final Reflection: Travel as a Journey Into the Soul of a Nation and a Relationship
My travels with my daughter were more than a geographic exploration—they were a journey into the soul of America and a deepening of our bond. In an era when so much seems fractured, these trips reminded me that connection, curiosity, and empathy remain the most powerful ways to understand the world.
To any listener thinking about traveling, parenting, or simply seeking a deeper connection with their surroundings, I encourage you to embrace the journey in all its richness. Let the road lead you not just to new places, but to new relationships—with people, with land, and ultimately, with yourself.
If you’d like to bring a traveler’s curiosity and a deeper human perspective into your own writing or book project, I’m offering exclusive book coaching to help you shape your journeys into powerful storytelling. Reserve your spot and DM me.
