I’m just getting back into town and the rhythm of work after a week on the road with my wife and my younger son. I don’t fear flying, but I love the road trip. The road trip forces you to see all of America, not just the parts we like to brag about. We started in Riverside and made our way through the desert Southwest, and somewhere on the Santa Fe Trail toward Raton, I went 45 minutes in broad daylight without seeing another car. Just me and this ancient American trail cutting through the high desert that looked the same as when it was a wagon route. You can't get that wide-open solitude any other way except when driving.
The contrasts tell the story. Navajo people selling jewelry under pop-up tents along the roadside, then Buc-ee's with its hundreds of gas pumps and walls of stuff to buy—shopping as pure show. Both are equally American, just different kinds of commerce for different travelers.
Then that moment on Highway 128 outside Moab, Utah, where you're looking down into a Colorado River canyon so impossibly red. No gift shop, no entrance fee, just this vast thing that's been there forever.
When you fly, you land in city centers and miss the suburban part entirely, but that sprawl is as authentic as any mid-city monument. The road forces you through all of it: the empty spaces, the downtowns, the endless strip malls where most Americans live. The monuments are what we want to be; the strip malls are what we are. Both are America, and you can only see the whole picture from the road.
I’m never all the way glad to be back at work, but I can tell you that I missed Riverside when I was gone. I wondered what was happening while I was away and if you guys could hold it down without me for a week.
From sunset picnics at Sycamore Highlands to legendary Zambian rock at the Farmhouse, community leaders reveal their favorite ways to make the most of long summer days in the City of Arts & Innovation.
