In sections of Arizona, Utah, and California, the highways are set into some especially steep hills. Serving as the main arteries between the different states, these highways are occupied with transport trucks speeding towards unknown destinations.

Due to these heavily inclined highways, lanes have been constructed to help slow down trucks that gain too much speed while descending. These lanes run partway up the side of the hill, allowing gravity to do its work and bring the vehicle back to a normal speed. The names of these lanes vary, but in some areas, painted into the lane itself, white letters read: “RUNAWAY VEHICLES ONLY.”

I wasn’t exactly sure why, but something about these lanes struck me. The bold lettering called only on the drivers and their vehicles that had little control, the ones whose momentum was so powerful that it began to pose a threat to safety.

The speed of our vehicle never reached that degree of discomfort, but for some reason it seemed we belonged in that lane; that we qualified as a runway vehicle.

We weren’t technically “runaways,” but at times during our road trip it felt a little like that. We were constantly in pursuit of our next destination, racing away from the places that had already begun to turn into memories (and that we had only dreamed of in the past).

We were runaways from reality in a sense as well. Living life on the road, we were unfettered from our daily responsibilities and rituals. Our only task was getting safely to the next stopping point, and remembering to fill the tank with gas every so often. While I can’t really do justice to the feeling of flying down a California midnight highway underneath a scattering of stars, or crawling along a road carved into the side of a sandstone canyon, believe me: freedom can be found in those kinds of moments.

The following is a bit of a summary of our trip.

[03.02.2017 – 03.03.2017]

We left Vancouver after work on Thursday evening. It was pouring rain (big surprise), and the roads were slick. After a brief interrogation at the border, accompanied by the guard eyeing down the backseat filled to the brim with our things, we were off.

Our first stop was Boardman, Oregon; a small industrial town just off of the I-84. A few months ago, I had stumbled across an image of a tree farm there that looked like something from a fairy tale. The poplar trees on this property were perfectly spaced apart, and ran for miles beside each other.

Macey seemed a little skeptical when I had first told her about it, but being the good sport that she is, she allowed it. After a six-hour drive in the dark, we found a spot to park the car and settled in for the night.

We woke up at dawn the next morning and headed over to the tree farm. It didn’t look like much from the highway, but once we pulled off and waded into the woods, it transformed into something beautiful and haunting.

We wandered around a little, taking in the unique landscape around us. It was surreal; I’d never seen a place like this before.

After half an hour or so, we grabbed our things and hopped back on the road. Our next stop was Salt Lake City, UT, and we had 600 miles to go.

That day, we made it through three states: Washington, Idaho, and Utah. The beginning of the trip was filled with rolling hills and long grasses blowing in the breeze. Eventually, somewhere around Idaho, the hills turned into mountains and snow appeared on their caps.

We made it to Salt Lake City just as the sun was setting. We checked into our hotel, grabbed a bite to eat downtown, and since we were exhausted from a long day of driving, decided to call it a night. We had another early morning planned for the next day.

[03.04.2017]

We grabbed breakfast at an amazing coffee shop (recommended by a well-traveled friend), and managed to squeeze in a bit of sightseeing around SLC before heading out. The views from Capitol Hill were stunning; perched at the top of the city, it overlooked the concrete bones of the buildings below, surrounded by mountains.

We navigated through the city and got on the I-15 towards southwestern Utah. Along the way, we watched the snow slowly disappear from the mountains and rust-coloured sediment start to seep in. We took a quick pit stop along the way for a photo-op on a perfect back road.

Our next stop was Zion National park, and we hoped to get in a hike before the light disappeared. Hurtling along the highway, we were racing the sun.

In a few hours, we pulled off and followed the signs toward Zion. We passed through a few small towns nestled beneath giant rock cliffs; houses sitting vulnerable to the forces of nature.

The road opened up to looming red cliffs above us, and I felt like my heart was going to explode. I had been dreaming of seeing these formations for what seemed like forever.

We pulled into the park, found our campsite, and booked it to the shuttle that would take us to Angel’s Landing.

Angel’s Landing is one of the more popular hikes at Zion, but it’s popularity is deceiving; we assumed that due to the masses of other park guests flocking toward the lookout spot, that this hike would be easy. We were wrong.

The ascent was tough, but nothing worse than the mountains in Vancouver that we had climbed. And the views along the way were great.

However, once we got to the 3/4 mark, we realized that our traction-less Nike shoes were no match for the slippery sandstone ledges. We decide to call it a day. Since the sun was beginning to set anyway, we snapped a few shots and then made our way back down to the shuttle and the campsite (making friends with some Mule Deer along the way).

Once back at our campsite, we set up the tent and started a fire. Much to my dismay, the clouds began to roll in and my hopes of catching a star-filled sky were dashed. A bit later on, the stars found a way to burn through the dense wall of cloud (just a little), and allowed me to snag a couple of shots.

[03.05.02017]

We were meeting my parents at the Grand Canyon, which meant another early morning. We woke for sunrise, hoping for a vibrant sky, but instead were met with a dull lightening of grey on the horizon. I took advantage of the surrounding silence from sleeping campers and tried to capture the landscape without the presence of [other] humans.

With a heavy heart for all that was left unexplored, we left Zion. We spent less than 24 hours in the park, but it was enough for me to know that it’s a special place. I’ll definitely be back again to see what else it has in store.

I think that the stretch between Zion and the Grand Canyon was my favourite. As we drove out of Utah and entered Arizona, it was interesting to see how the colours of rock could change so much in such a short distance; how flatland could turn into giant walls of stone so suddenly. We made a short stop at Horseshoe Bend along the way and were blown away (almost literally) by its sheer grandeur.

We arrived at the Grand Canyon in the late afternoon, but to our dismay the winds were too extreme that day to be up in the air. We rescheduled for Tuesday, and hung out with my parents doing touristy stuff around the edges of the canyon.

The winds almost carried us off the edge a few times, but we managed to hold our ground. Edward Abbey said it best:

“The springtime winds are as much a part of canyon country as the silence and the glamorous distances; you learn, after a number of years, to love them also.”

After we had taken in the views and fought off the wind for long enough, we headed to my parent’s place in Scottsdale, AZ.

[03.06.2017]

This was our first full day in Arizona. We had originally planned to take it easy, but instead we decided to do some day drinking at a Spring Training game. It was no Blue Jays game, but it was definitely a good time.

After the game, we wanted to do a little exploring around Scottsdale and Phoenix. We decided to check out Camelback Mountain, and do a sunset hike. We managed to get to the top right as the sun was dipping below the horizon and the lights of the city began to sparkle.

[03.07.2017]

This day was the makeup trip for our Grand Canyon outing! Our little adventure crew decided to make a day of it and hit up Sedona, AZ, en route to the Grand Canyon.

Sedona seemed like the setting for every iconic western movie ever made. Rich red canyons and desert plants made up the landscape, and the highways wound their way through the dirt.

We climbed Bell Rock, which according to the locals, is considered a “vortex.” Apparently, certain sections of desert give people some kind of spiritual connection to the earth; it’s a place where energy is either entering into the earth or projecting out of the earth’s plane.

To be honest, I didn’t feel any special connection to this specific place, but more for the desert in it’s entirety. The stripped landscape and the stretching distances are enough to make anyone feel bigger than their own existence.

Around noon, we continued North towards the Grand Canyon. We had a 2pm helicopter takeoff time that we couldn’t miss.

The helicopter ride was short but definitely an awesome experience. I had the privilege of sitting in the front and got a pretty unreal view, miles above the canyon.

After a brief 20 minutes of ogling at the view, the helicopter descended and we headed back to Scottsdale.

My mission upon returning that night was to capture the stars. Since the moon was out, the stars were a bit muted, but the insanely clear Arizona skies still allowed for them to show up.

The mountains served as the perfect backdrop for the shot, and I was satisfied. Time to call it a night.

[03.08.2017]

This was our last day in Arizona. We decided to fit in as much as we could and tackle Camelback Mountain one more time, but this time at sunrise. We woke up around 5:15am, hastily got dressed, and climbed into my car.

The stars were still out when we began up the mountain, but they quickly faded away as the sky began to lighten.

It was another clear day, and the heat of the sun soon struck us with full force. We headed down the mountain and back to my parent’s place.

We spent the rest of the day wandering around Old Scottsdale and embracing the tourist role. We finished off our time in Arizona by having dinner with my parents and packing the car. Our next stop was Joshua Tree National Park; we had no reservation and had no idea what to expect, but were willing to take our chances.

With a heavy heart, I said goodbye to my parents knowing it would be another four months before seeing them again.

We took our places in the car and headed West on the I-10.

[03.09.2017]

We arrived at Joshua Tree shortly after midnight. The moon illuminated the road as we wound through the park, blindly searching for a spot to stay.

We found a campsite, and, exhausted from the drive, decided to sleep in my car. Before settling in for the night, I took advantage of the moonlit paths that lay in the surrounding desert around and got a few shots.

We woke up for sunrise that morning. Other campers around us had the same idea, and sounds of stirring could be heard throughout the site. We set off on a path and explored the area as the cool night air vanished and the warmth of day began to take its place.

We left the campsite behind and found an isolated area. Macey and I both loved the idea of creating something that connected the human body with the barren landscape; there’s something so powerful in the image of the partially bare female body against a stripped-down landscape. The rising sun provided perfect shadows that defined the details of the desert.

We spent an hour or so playing around in the desert and then decided it was time to head out. Our next destination was the California coast.

Heading West, we drove down the busy California highways gridlocked with people making their morning commute. It was interesting to see both the silence of the desert and the deafening noise of the cities in the same day.

Our goal that day was the Bixby Creek Bridge. Located near Carmel, CA, the bridge had been an iconic image for me since I was a teenager. Deathcab for Cutie released a song about the bridge, and since hearing it almost 10 years ago, I made myself a promise to visit it one day. We knew that the recent flooding in the area might pose a potential problem, but according to all the maps we checked, it was open.

We were a couple of miles from the bridge when we were forced to stop. The flooding had rendered the bridge impassable, and heavy construction was currently underway. My heart sank.

We backtracked a little and found a lookout spot were we could at least see the bridge. This would have to do for now.

After taking in the beauty of the coastline, we headed North to Mt. Madonna National Park where we would stay for the night.

We set up the tent (along with my trusty twinkle lights) and after a few failed attempts to get a fire started, went to sleep.

[03.10.2017]

Our final destination of the trip was San Francisco. Our friend had been living there for a few years, and we had plans to meet up with him that day. We woke up early, packed up the tent and the rest of our belongings, and hit the road.

Driving through San Francisco was a nightmare, but it was well worth it; I fell in love with the city after only a few minutes of being there. The steep streets and unique architecture stole my heart.

We wanted to see as much of the city as possible, so we decided to rent bicycles. In hindsight, we definitely overestimated our stamina; the hills were much harder to tackle than anticipated. Nevertheless, we persevered and made our way around a good chunk of the city.

We met our friend Rob for lunch at the Cliff House, which had stunning views of the ocean below.

Afterwards, we wandered around the shore a little, said goodbye to Rob, and continued on our bikes.

After a long day of riding, we made our way back to our hotel and got ready for the evening. We met up with Rob again for dinner and drinks, while he graciously acted as our tour guide around the city. After a few drinks, we called it a night.

[03.11.2017]

Last day of the trip. We had decided to push our driving skills as far as we could that day, aiming to finish the journey back to Vancouver in one shot.

Before leaving, we walked to see the Painted Ladies; the row of Victorian Houses featured in the opening credits of “Full House.”

The surrounding neighbourhood was beautiful, and had some stunning views of the rest of downtown.

We headed back to the hotel, packed our things, and left San Francisco to begin our trip home. We had a 16-hour journey on the I-5 ahead of us.

I was filled with a strange sadness as soon as we hit the highway; I began to miss the road while still driving on it, as I knew the end was the only destination left.

There was a very small part of me that was excited to get back to an actual bed and to normality, but I also knew that going back to the familiar meant becoming stationary once again. I had a feeling that this trip would be one of the best memories I’ve accumulated yet, and I wasn’t ready for it to be over.

≈

It seems like an obvious cliché to discuss the road in terms of liberation, but that’s exactly what it was: liberation in it’s purest form. And so much more.

In those 10 days, we watched the landscape shift from long, rolling hills, to dust coloured mountains, to red rock canyons and desert. We watched the grasses change between shades of green and brown, and then eventually disappear altogether. We saw real tumbleweeds roll across the highways. We let the sun pour through the windows and the wind whip through our hair. We sang until our lungs hurt and laughed until our eyes burned with tears.

The world is a big place and it’s filled with more wondrous things than can ever be imagined. These things are meant to be discovered and explored; they cause a curious change in those who experience them.

We questioned a lot of things on the trip. Aspects of relationships, life, and even ourselves. Through the meditative power of the open road, we were able to come up with answers to a lot of those questions. We’ve been back in our normal lives for almost a month now, and there’s only one question that remains unanswered: where to go next?