Moonrise on The 10.  I think it’s the best stretch of road in the country, and also one of the longest.  I-10 runs from Jacksonville to L.A., and at last count, we’ve driven it, one way or the other, five times, with another three to and from Texas.  Heading west you get into good country right out of Jacksonville, and except for Tallahassee, you don’t hit much traffic until New Orleans.  If you’re smart, you take the 12 at Slidell, LA, to get you around New Orleans, and then you have to go through Baton Rouge and Lake Charles, but it’s not bad, depending on the time of day, then Houston, which is always bad.  Then there’s a pretty free run to San Antonio, which has gotten way too big since we lived there in the early 70’s.  After that, it’s a crippling, long drive across west Texas to El Paso, unless you give in and just enjoy the scenery.  The land and sky are so immense and beautiful.  I find it deeply moving, and have since I first drove it in 1970.  At Ft. Stockton you can turn south for another hundred miles to Big Bend National Park, out of the way, but that gives it special status.  If you do that, and want to continue west, you have to take little two-lane 118 out of the park to Alpine, where we once spent the night, long ago, passing through Terlingua, which was a ghost town when we passed through in 1970, and where they now have a famous barbecue cook-off, before hooking up again with the 10 and El Paso and Las Cruces, NM.

In years past it was a fun run through beautiful desert from there on, but with the insane growth of Tucson and Phoenix, it’s sometimes a good choice to head north out of Las Cruces on the 25 to pick up the 40 to continue west.  Bust I still like the southern route, despite the ugliness and smog of The Valley of the Sun, although 25 should not be missed.  It is a desolate, mind-bending drive through Indian territory to Albuquerque.  If you stay on the 10 you will eventually hit Blythe, CA, then Joshua Tree National Park, where we had one of our great camping experiences, which included margaritas in the middle of the road, and where, on the western side of the park you gain elevation and can see the Salton Sea and the unmistakable crack of the San Andreas Fault.

After that you’re on your own. The L.A. rich folk desert.  Coachella, Indio, Palm Springs.  At San Bernardino you’d better decide whether you want to go on into L.A, or hook north on the 15 to get out of it.  If you keep going you’ll eventually end up on the Santa Monica Pier, after hours in traffic, and if you take the 15 to Barstow, you can pick up the 40 to Bakersfield and pick up the 5 north.  Good choice, unless you want to see the Hollywood sign, and look at the palm prints at Grumman’s Chinese Theater.  Pretty much a one-time experience.  The 5 takes you up the Central Valley all the way to Washington.  America’s bread basket; almonds, avocados, pistachios, etc.  Not to be missed.  We’ve taken it all the way up into Oregon.

North of San Francisco, if you want to head back from there, you can pick up the 80 through Truckee and Reno to Salt Lake.  Every time we’ve been up there weather set in, requiring chains, so we haven’t done it.  I always wanted to do the 80 on a motorcycle, like my San Francisco friend Chester Chin described, but I guess that’s past.  If I can come back, I’m doing that, on a big BMW.

Coming back on the 10 is even better, for some reason.  I think it has to do with the gradual leaving of openness for the crowdedness of the east.  Not that that’s better, not at all.  It’s about re-emerging into life as it is, after experiencing something greater; the American West.  There’s nothing like it.  There’s the gradual contrast you experience, that sharpens what you’ve just been through, knowing that’s out there.  I’m ready to do it again.