Last month, I rode shotgun on a road trip halfway across America, covering 1,606 miles from Charlotte to Boulder, then 1,584 miles back.
I traveled to the Rockies to marry my longtime soulmate atop a 7,000-foot mountain. We chose Colorado for its flexible marriage laws, which allow couples to perform the ceremony themselves. Preferring a non-traditional style, we wrote our own vows and turned the wedding into a nine-day adventure.
Naturally, an eight-state drive spawns interesting encounters that you’d never experience in air travel. Here are some notable moments and observations from the journey.
Tennessee
After a familiar jaunt through Western North Carolina, our out-of-state adventure officially began in Tennessee, the Volunteer State. My favorite sight was an adult entertainment store called Adult World, conveniently located next door to an enormous 100-foot cross. I wasn’t quick enough to snap a picture, but I found this Google Street View image. The contrast made me laugh. It’s almost like an art installation. See the cross on the left:
I looked up which came first: Adult World bought the building in 1999, but the cross wasn’t built until 2003. The guy behind it—a pastor, of course—went on some cross-erecting crusade across the country. Everyone needs a pet project.
Kentucky
As we entered Kentucky, we found ourselves speeding semi-egregiously to avoid being run off the road by fellow travelers—Prius and 18-wheeler alike. We encountered several roadside memorials there, reminders of the deadliness of America’s highways.
We spotted one of the world’s two dozen remaining blimps advertising Dick’s Sporting Goods above the PGA Championship in Louisville. The company recently launched a regional marketing campaign with its 178-foot-long “House of Sport” airship, offering us a rare sight seldom seen in modern skies.
Indiana…
… was pretty uneventful, to be honest, although I did enjoy the combination of these two cities on one road sign. It contains a double meaning, depending on how you read it aloud. One sounds like a secret code phrase, ala “tell the president, the eagle has landed.” The other involves a person named City and an innovative kissing technique. Can you think of a third?
Illinois
The Prairie State gave us a warm welcome with overpass graffiti commanding, “Honk If You’re Horny.” Well played, Illinois, well played.
Throughout Illinois and Missouri, we heard the endless wailing of the 13-year XIX cicada brood. Brushy spots along the highway sounded like a car wash spraying water in rapid succession. What’s the point of cicadas exactly, if not to notify us of their constant presence? Hello! Shut up already.
By the end of the trip, the view out of our windshield was shot. Even a whole bottle of wiper fluid couldn’t remove the unsightly smears. Check out this cicada splatter on the grille:
Missouri
Missouri: The Roadkill State. I counted 56 dead armadillos on the first route through Missouri alone. I was somewhat excited at first, having never seen an armadillo before, but the novelty quickly wore off with the sheer frequency of sightings. Other Midwestern states had far less roadkill in general, and even fewer armadillos. Are Missouri’s animals particularly nearsighted? What’s going on here?
We passed a gun store in St. Peters creatively named Tactical Sh*t, where locals buy all their tactical shit.
Kansas City’s highway organization seems so convoluted. I giggled when Siri said, “Take exit 2U in half a mile.” I’ve never seen exits labeled so high in the alphabet and with just one number: 2P, 2Q, 2T, and so on to 2Z. Now I know why they call it Alphabet Loop. It’s an interesting culture shock. North Carolina’s system is much simpler, usually a combination of 1 or 2 and A, B, or C.
Kansas
We took an untimely drive through Central Kansas during a truly biblical storm, complete with horizontal lightning, dense rain, hail, and tornadoes—the works. The region is part of Tornado Alley, a twister hotspot that regularly attracts storm chasers. We even passed an armored vehicle at a rest stop. Several people live-streamed the event on YouTube.
While I was weirdly disappointed we didn’t see any tornadoes, these cool lightning photos helped soften the bummer:
Thankfully, we made it through the nerve-racking storm intact, unlike the overturned 18-wheelers and broken silo we noticed on our way out. I got a call from our hotel in Russell, which was supposed to be our stopping point for the night. They canceled our reservation because golf ball-sized hail and 82-mph winds damaged the building and guests’ cars. The storm knocked out power for the whole town.
Still, this is just everyday weather for many Kansans. More than 40 tornadoes have touched down statewide this year.
I saw my first-ever crop duster gracefully unleashing streams of liquid fertilizer on Kansas’s fields.
While they look cool at first, Kansas’s countless miles of wind farms get old when you’re on I-70 for an entire day and staring at the quadrillionth turbine. Let’s get some scenic diversity up in here.
Monotonous Midwestern highways make me appreciate the geographical variety back home on the East Coast. Who knew turns on an interstate could be interesting?
Something I noticed: Highway troopers were mostly absent outside of North Carolina. I’ll admit, it was nice to not be patrolled. We saw less than 10 cops on each route to/from Colorado. Most were responding to accidents, save for one sobriety test in Kansas City. Another was racing recklessly without their sirens on, as cops often do. Of course, law enforcement abounded upon our return to North Carolina. Figures. The NC Highway Patrol has 1,600+ troopers, more than any other state but Texas.
Colorado: Our Destination
The longest oil-hauling train I’ve ever seen was making good time in the eastern plains of Colorado.
Fun fact: Boulder’s 5,430-foot altitude removes 17% of the oxygen you would breathe at sea level. Oxygen deprivation is part of the standard tourist experience. Local grocery stores sell oxygen canisters marketed toward outsiders like us. As a Charlottean acclimated to a 670-foot elevation, it took some getting used to.
We met a fellow North Carolinian at the Mountain Man Outdoor Store in Nederland. The phrase “North Cackalacky” came up. As Southern folk often do, we spoke partially in Bojangles and Chick-fil-A references. Of the latter, he said the classic “love their sandwiches, hate their politics.” These bumper stickers came for free with my purchase of a color-changing t-shirt:
Speaking of colorful, check out this bold store frontage (also in Nederland). I love the schizo hodgepodge of messages, jumping from “just say no to drug pushers” to “masking kids is child abuse.”
West of Denver is Dinosaur Ridge, a region known for its fossils. Local towns embrace this reputation with street art and murals like this:
At the Brass Armadillo Antique Mall in Wheat Ridge, I spent an embarrassing amount of time digging through boxes of old North Carolina postcards. I found this gem from my alma mater, Appalachian State University—then called the Appalachian State Teachers College. Ain’t that neat?
I can always appreciate a well-curated display of collectibles. Check out these themes:
Halfway through the trip, I married my one true love at Boulder’s Lost Gulch, which draws 200 visits a day for its 360° views of forested hills and snowcapped peaks. The overlook towers 7,000+ feet above sea level, a winding 4.4-mile drive from the base of the mountain.
Tourist organizations should advertise the adrenaline hits you can get at this place. At one point, I cautiously peered off the ledge and noticed someone’s plastic water bottle crumpled up pitifully on a rock hundreds of feet down. It added an extra layer of surrealism to an already-thrilling day.
I couldn’t resist this choice photo-op. Like Grimes, I also refuse to believe that “Manic Pixie Dream Girl” is an insult.
As easy as Colorado makes it to get married on your own terms, the government can’t help but weasel their way into your personal life with their barriers to entry. Marriage, like any State-sealed institution, requires some level of bureaucracy. We signed all the legal junk at the Gilpin County Court House in Central City, a charming municipality formed during the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush of 1859. More than 10,000 prospectors flooded there within two months of the first gold discovery, inspiring the nickname “The Richest Square Mile On Earth.”
Today, Central City’s population of 779 thrives on tourism and gaming. The downtown area features several casinos tightly packed within walking distance of each other.
The next day, we visited Georgetown. Like nearby Central City, this quaint mining town sprouted into existence in the mid-1800s gold rush era. We traveled the scenic Georgetown Loop Railroad, a 1.5-hour whirlwind of eye-popping views.
As in any tourist spot, the train was ripe for people-watching. It’s always interesting to observe different family dynamics in public. On one side of the train, a family of four was turning heads as two kids erupted in shrill tantrums and their visibly exhausted parents argued loudly about the situation. We sat near a well-dressed group, with children quietly nibbling on pre-made sandwiches as the parents barely broke focus from their iPhones. Maybe they were just scrolling Facebook or Instagram, but I’d like to think they’d gotten 10 emails deep into mitigating a major workplace scandal.
Our last full day was spent driving aimlessly along high-elevation mountain roads, most lined with partially melted mid-May snow. We wound up at this stunning Echo Lake trailhead.
Now, I’d hate to admit that any mountain region could be more beautiful than the Blue Ridge, where I spent my college years. But… the Rockies definitely beats it. My jaw almost disjointed at the first sight of a 10,000-foot mountain. I had the cliché Ozian thought, “Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Appalachia anymore.”
Colorado Wild Animal Logs
One evening, we witnessed two moose chowing down on some grass feet away from us on our Airbnb patio. They were deceptively silent. We’d been sitting out there for about 30 minutes when one made their presence known by coughing up a lung in a raspy, old man-like tone.
We briefly saw a black bear approaching a horse farm on a hillside next to a highway. We turned around to get a video, only to find it vanished into the woods.
Three elk gracefully hopped a fence along a rural road.
Several pronghorns roamed the Colorado plains east of Denver.
We spotted mule deer and whitetail deer chillin’ along the treelines of mountain-pass fields.
A black cardinal serenaded us with metallic melodies at a rest area near Echo Lake.
Tallies
Rest areas: 32 total (eliminating duplicates on both routes) - no shortage of places to piss
Roadside crosses: 57 - may all rest in peace
Tesla Cybertrucks: 6 (including two hauled on a trailer) - perhaps unsurprising, given recent quality issues
Good Eats
Pappy’s Smokehouse (St. Louis) - popular joint with some dang good BBQ, yessir
Oblio's (Denver) - delicious Italian food and good taste in decor
West End Tavern (Boulder) - a downtown spot with nice people, cool vibes, and a rooftop lounge
Diner Bar (Nederland) - serving up some of the best breakfast biscuits I’ve ever tasted. I had to take some for the road.
Beau Jo’s (Idaho Springs) - home of the Colorado Mountain Pie Pizza
MTN Prime (Idaho Springs) - for its awesome wall of portraits
Note: This is an opinion essay. Much like a traditional newspaper column, my newsletter is a side channel to voice my personal views. It’s separate from my main gig as a journalist/reporter.
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