After finishing my visit to my dad and stepmom in Washington state earlier this month, in returning home to Virginia I completed my eighth cross-country leg (and seventh solo) since summer 2022. My husband V had already flown home from my dad’s a couple of weeks earlier to meet his work obligations, so I road tripped back on my own. Still sticking mostly to interstates, this time I decided to modify my route slightly to see some new-to-me places, and checked off two more states I hadn’t yet been to.
A map of my route is above: my route back east was 181 miles longer than the drive west in July had been, likely for two reasons.
One, because as I crossed Montana, I decided to detour slightly north to North Dakota in lieu of South Dakota. I’ve been across South Dakota several times now, but I’d never seen North Dakota at all and was curious. That ended up being a great decision and a beautiful – if somewhat desolate – day of driving.
And two, because after a grueling and irritating fourth day of driving through road work, narrower lanes, and the surprising traffic of Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Illinois, I was not enthused at the prospect of similar expected annoyances across Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Maryland on my final day – a route I am frankly getting a bit bored of. I wanted something more like the days I drove across the vast (and sometimes stark) beauty of Montana and North Dakota: empty, quiet, picturesque.
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I then detoured south as I navigated Indiana so I could swing through the scenic views of Kentucky (another new state for me) and West Virginia before arriving back home in northern Virginia.
By planning my route that way, I essentially enjoyed some of the most non-crowded places coast to coast (except for roughly points D to F on the map).
Accommodation was easy overall. By starting out slow my first day (driving less than 500 miles), I enjoyed a familiar motel in Coeur d’Alene where I could drive right up to the door of my predictably comfortable cabin.
The second night in Miles City, MT was a little tougher; as I got closer, I had a little trouble finding somewhere open to stay and there weren’t many towns for a couple hundred miles. I pulled over to review my options, scrolling. I was lucky to snag what may have been the last hotel in town, and to my surprise got upgraded to the presidential suite – complete with hot tub – by the time I rolled in after 11:00 pm. It truly was the last room in the fully-booked establishment.
I had no trouble booking in somewhere last-minute in Minnesota and Indiana, but I have (mostly) learned to plan hours ahead when it looks like I’m going to be driving for several hours with limited to no lodging or gas around, rather than rolling up to the place where I want to stay late in the evening and assuming there’s a vacancy. Everyone who stops for the night around dinnertime always beats me to it in places where options are few.
After briefly crossing the bridge over the Ohio River to catch a glimpse of Louisville, I kept going. It was green, with barely any other drivers around for hours. Now that’s more like it, I told myself. How relaxing. West Virginia was the same way, and I didn’t mind finally leaving the interstate – a safety rule I generally follow in my older car. Following interstate 64 across Kentucky, catching interstate 79 around Charleston, WV, and eventually continuing east along the rural beauty of highway 48 before hitting the Virginia state line.
I arrived home late on a Saturday evening, and surrendered to my bed. I’d made it back from yet another astonishing solo road trip.
Collecting Postcards 
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