A big, kinda dumb pair of blue sunglasses. A full cooler and a basket of snacks in the seat to my right. The soundtrack to RENT cued up. I always cast myself as Mimi.

And nothing but open roads ahead of me.

Bliss.

The first time I drove cross-country solo I’d just split up with my boyfriend.

I’d taken a job as a wilderness ranger in Maine and left my first year of grad school hours after presenting my final project, an emotional mess and completely unsure of what lay ahead of me.

I’m generally a social person, so I couldn’t help but wonder what would it be like to camp my way across Middle America? The Counting Crows rang in my ears. Omaha?

I had no clue just how much of a love affair I was about to begin.

I plunked myself down into the driver’s seat—literally and metaphorically. Hello freedom. Nobody to complain that I was singing too loudly, or when I wanted to stop at the totally cheesy Buffalo Bill “exhibit” somewhere in the middle of who-knows-where. Nobody to look at me weirdly when the soundtrack to Les Miserables made me cry. Again.

Since then, I’ve come to love those stretches of unknown, I’ve learned a lot about how to do it. So if you’re thinking it might be time to roll down the windows and hit the open road this summer, here are a few of the gems I’ve picked up along the way.

1. Give yourself time. Plenty of it.

Nobody likes to feel rushed—and that applies tenfold to time on the road. It’s best to give yourself ample time to nap when you need it, take detours when they’re calling, and visit friends who happen to live kind of along the way. A pressing deadline means you’ll have to drive longer hours than you really want to. A feeling of openness? You can pause at that overlook to watch the sunset when you feel like pausing. The feeling of freedom is priceless.

2. Be open to following your intuition. Or the wind.

The last time I made the trek to Montana I took a somewhat long detour to drive through the Badlands. It made my drive almost a whole day longer—but I wouldn’t trade what I saw for anything. Bighorn sheep. Endless stretches of sandstone and history. A funny little highway pitstop that served bad coffee, hysterical postcards and amazing hospitality. Detours are the milk and honey of these adventures.

3. Pack well, but don’t overpack.

The first few times I brought along all sorts of stuff I thought I’d want—clothes, books, camping gear, fancy road snacks. But in reality, I end up wearing the same clothes for days, eating the convenient things (who wants to cook lentils on the road?) and setting up a simple camp. Bring clothes for both heat and cold. New Jersey’s weather is guaranteed to be different than Iowa. When you’re solo nobody cares if your skirt is wrinkled and your shirt’s a bit smelly. You will care if you’re comfortable and your belly is happy.

4. Go camping.

It’s not for everyone, but I highly recommend it. Bringing a tent (and making sure you know how to set it up easily) makes your travels that much more flexible. It might be difficult to find a hotel in the middle of Wyoming. But places to camp? They’re everywhere—and you can set up your bed wherever you’re ready to stop for the day. Bring simple camping foods—think rice pasta and sauce, quinoa, oatmeal, etc. You’ll never be stuck for a good, hot meal. And when you’re ready for a soft bed and four walls? Find thyself a hotel.

5. Keep your stuff organized.

This one takes a bit of practice, but packing your belongings and food in milk crates or plastic tubs can be a godsend. That way you know where to find your socks when you hit a sudden cold snap, setting up your camp is easy and your car doesn’t become a total disaster. Keep things you need on the regular in an accessible place—like near the doors—and pack away the rest in the roof box or toward the middle of the car.

6. Set yourself reasonable expectations for driving hours.

Personally, I can’t drive much more than 8 or 9 hours in a day without going crazy and being in pain. Taking breaks every few hours and (usually) stopping sometime around sunset means driving hours are a bit limited—and I’m totally ok with that. It’s not a race to the finish line, it’s an adventure. Allow yourself days where you only log 5 hours as well as the days where you’re feeling invisible and drive all day.

7. Bring an atlas.

This should be a no-brainer, but in the days of GPS and smartphones it can be easily overlooked. Let me assure you there are enough places with no 4G or phone reception that an atlas is a worthy investment when you’re trying to navigate alone. It also has the bonus of showing you where there are parks, trails and other random attractions that you might have otherwise overlooked. See #2.

8. Keep a reliable friend on speed-dial.

There have been numerous times where I’ve called a friend (using my headset of course) with the query: “I’ve hit a surprise snowstorm in South Dakota. Can you look at a weather map and tell me if this is going to pass, or if I should take a break?” I’ve been able to take shelter and avoid treacherous conditions a few times this way. Likewise with finding campgrounds, how far it is to the next gas station (they can be a long way apart in Wyoming), and so on.

9. Don’t overdo it on the coffee.

Caffeine fiends of the world beware: though coffee is a great pick-me-up in the morning, it’ll only lead to energy spikes and crashes if you’re mainlining it all day long. Stay well-hydrated instead, grab an OJ if you need a little sugar boost and reserve the coffee for the mornings when the singing of the peepers kept you up most of the night. I like to bring a box of yerba mate teabags and a good travel mug—hot water is easy to come by at even the most podunk truck stop and then I know I’m safe from the dangers of old coffee and energy crashes.

10. Stretch. Multiple times daily.

Sitting in a car for hours on end is tough on the body—no kidding. Those grassy travel stops are a perfect opportunity to throw down a sarong or beach towel and stretch out your hips, shoulders, and back. Ten pushups, a couple of downward dogs, some neck rolls and your body will be able to handle the vigors of road life with much more grace—and less pain.

11. Take good care of your chariot.

Before you leave, get your oil changed, tires rotated and a general checkup. There’s nothing that’ll throw a wrench in your trip like car issues and you’ll drive much happier if you know your trusty steed is, well, trusty enough to cruise under the big skies.

12. See things. Smell things. Taste things. Experience this whole trip fully.

Roadside peach stands. The “Stonehenge” of Oregon. The motorcycle rally in Sturgis. The Corn Palace. The vineyards of Washington. Drive with the windows down through the sunflower fields. Stop to breathe, to feel, to notice.

~

A road trip might ultimately be getting from point A to point B, but the essence of its beauty lies in all the points in between. Let yourself have the space, time and presence to really soak it all in. If you do, the journey will become much richer.

~

Author: Heather Day

Editor: Alli Sarazen

Photo: John Atherton/Flickr