Left My Heart in San Francisco (and Los Angeles + San Diego too)

Alright. Here we go. After reminiscing through my perilous (I mean super duper fun) Highway 50 Roadtrip nearly a year ago, it’s finally time to retrace the miles that brought me back east to Tennessee.

Highway 50 ends somewhere in an intricate web of Sacramento intersate. I didn’t get a photo because, hello, safety first (and exhaustion second). After having been on the long and winding scenic road for somewhere around a week, I was more than happy to jump on Interstate 80 for a somewhat quick drive to San Francisco. This is where my plan—for the most part—ended. With no hotel booked (sorry folks, no recommendation in the Golden Gate city), I found myself on the futon of some friends of a friend. The only things I remember about my first night ever and only night that trip in San Francisco are these: (1) There was a lot of fog and, therefore, not a lot of views that particular evening; (2) It’s where I first tried boba (LOVE); and, (3) There are similar comfort foods between the Deep South (where I’m from) and parts of China (where my host was from) like frog legs.

The next morning, I headed south to Los Angeles in agony knowing that there were a couple national parks just to the east of me that I wouldn’t be able to see that trip. After about six hours on the road and a stop somewhere for In-N-Out, I arrived at another friend’s home and we set out on adventure. Over the course of a couple days, I saw the Pacific Ocean, spotted the Hollywood sign, visited Rodeo Drive, went on a whale-watching tour, and decided that one day I should have a little bungalow in a cute part of town.

Atlantic to Pacific, babes.

Griffith Observatory and Los Angeles skyline.

From Los Angeles via I-5, again, we made our way to San Diego one morning for a quick walk-thru of the world-famous San Diego Zoo.

Then, after an evening spent in one of America’s favorite chain hotels, we ventured east and slightly up to a site I’d been waiting to see for over ten years after having seen it as a photoshoot’s backdrop in some teen magazine of my youth at least a dozen years prior: Salvation Mountain.

Yes, Kesha had released her “Praying” video at this point, but the real ones knew about the spectacularly vivid pile of rocks and paint from an obtuse article in Cosmo Girl or something else—just like me.

Honk if you knew about Salvation Mountain before Kesha (we love her though). We’re so cool.

Okay. So. We went, we saw, we conquered, and then we got back in the car for a seven-ish hour trek through mostly desert (like, the kind of desert road where we could’ve disappeared forever) until finally—blanketed by the night sky—we arrived at Bright Angel Lodge of Grand Canyon National Park.

BESTIES. Let me be clear, I can not express how excited I was to see Salvation Mountain the day before. I get SUPER excited over giant monuments of folk art. BUT THEN, to have it followed by THE Grand Canyon the following day?? This roadtrip of firsts, especially these two days, turned out to be some of my most memorable days of travel up to that point in my life.

We didn’t get to hike, but I did get some souvenirs from the park gift shop <3

She’s a beaut, Clark.

What’s a roadtrip without even MORE driving? We jumped back in the car and continued east. Three hours later, I was enjoying petroglyphs and trees of stone in my second national park of the day: the Petrified Forest.

I would like to plug some colorful cultural pride here and let you know that my home state, Mississippi, boasts its own petrified forest as well as Mississippi’s Little Grand Canyon. Y’all go on and laugh. We love our little sites. SO ANYWAY, I will say that there was something special seeing our nation’s Grand Canyon on, well, such a GRAND scale plus a ~WaY bIgGeR~ petrified forest. BUT MISSISSIPPI STILL HAS ITS OWN AND I’LL SAY IT AGAIN AND AGAIN.

Petroglyphs at the Petrified Forest National Park.

Petrified Forest National Park, Arizona.

After one more meal together three hours down the road in Albuquerque, my friend and I parted ways as I continued eastward.

From Albuquerque, I trekked to Amarillo for one last folk art installation of the overall 2-week trip (Highway 50 + getting back home): Cadillac Ranch.

Cadillac Ranch in Amarillo, TX.

There I was, nearing the end of a 2-week journey. I had seen an abundance of things I’d read about for years: from national parks I didn’t know that I’d ever step foot in, to quirky little Roadside America attractions that will forever put a smile on my face, and even the small things like very specific bends in rivers whose names I’ve long since forgotten. I WAS TIRED.

Jumping back into my car, I wrapped this trip up over the next few days—days that you didn’t come here to read about. To put it quickly: I slept in a guest bed outside Fort Worth after Cadillac Ranch, awoke the next morning for a six-and-a-half hour drive to where I grew up in Neshoba County, MS, and after a couple days there I finally made the last three-ish hour haul back up to Memphis.

This is the blueprint trip I have for any other long journey that lies ahead of me, and I hope there are many more!

Come back another day for some tips and lists I learned along the way. Until then, peace out girl scouts.