Travel Tips

I spent three nights in Death Valley once, and honestly, the heat wasn’t what nearly killed me—it was my own stupidity about water.

I used to think the Grand Canyon held all the records. Turns out, North America’s deepest river gorge isn’t in Arizona at all—

I used to think the Clearwater River Grade Drive was just another forgettable stretch of Idaho highway until I actually drove it. The thing is, this route—

I’ve driven through Utah’s red rock country maybe a dozen times, and I always forget how the land just sort of swallows you whole.

I used to think camping gear was just about sleeping bags and maybe a decent flashlight. Turns out, the difference between a road trip that feels like

The drive to Maze Overlook doesn’t forgive mistakes. I’ve driven a lot of backcountry roads in Utah—some barely qualify as roads, honestly—

I’ve driven a lot of desolate roads, but the Big Bend Ranch Loop—this 67-mile circuit through the Chihuahuan Desert in far west Texas—

I used to think first aid kits were all the same—those red zippered pouches stuffed with Band-Aids that smell like plastic and optimism.

I spent three months lurking in vanlife Facebook groups before I posted anything, which probably says more about my social anxiety than the communities themselves.

I used to think scenic drives were all the same—trees, curves, maybe a waterfall if you’re lucky. Then I drove the Cherohala Skyway on a Tuesday