Looking back at my notes a half year later, it’s hard to construct my final statement of the trip. I had grand ideas in place for this article, about defining American’s biggest attributes as its natural land and beauty, its people’s determination and work ethic, and the interaction of those against capitalism’s questionable snuggling with greed. Looking back, I’m not sure if that captures the full story of my journey.

My trip started off with a drive through a landscape unlike anything on the East coast. The mountains looked so exaggerated that they reminded me of fake foam rocks, with vibrant and contrasting colors painted from graffiti and super-sized spray paint cans. Yet the mountains, the colors, and the rolling hills like those on childhood drawings are all real, all reflecting a blessing American has when it comes to the vast beauty of this country’s landscape.

I made sure to stop at as many local outlets as I could, whether it was a surprise visit to a chicken breeder, dining on eggs in front of heavily bearded truck drivers, or eating fried chicken with locals discussing politics. The constant class and job elevation pressures of the Northeast weren’t present on my stops — people worked hard, but they defined themselves less by their jobs and more by their character, their friendliness, and their attitudes to life. Hard work, yes, but not once did I hear any complaints.

It’s suitable that my trip ended in Las Vegas. America was too perfect on my trip, hitting Vegas reminded me of one of America’s lasting charactieristics: the thirst for the mighty dollar. I remember stepping into my hotel room and seeing casino skyscrapers plunge out of the desert. As I mourned the loss of the spotless nature scenes of my drive, I caught a building-sized advertisement for a Beatles show in town. I grabbed a hold of my desk as I lost my balance: buldings, a fragmented desert, commercial Beatles – it was all too much to handle after seeing the innocence and power of the Grand Canyon. There was nothing representing the Grand Canyon there. An hour later and $100 down in Blackjack, I returned to my room and slept, hoping to wake up outside of a city where every job doesn’t exist solely to pluck from one’s wallet, and every traveler’s aspiration is more than just thickening one’s own wallet.

Before writing this entry I knew I couldn’t end it on that. My grand statement shouldn’t be about the balance of powers inside America, but more about the people I met.

The night I spent in the Grand Canyon felt like a carnival. As a lone traveler, I set a goal to visit every bar in the national park, each with its own flavor, age, and crowd’s mindset. At one bar I sat down with a glass of wine and reflected on my trip, while wealthy couples stared blankly at others for a visual escape. In another I was surrounded by Japanese tourists as we talked about New York, music, and who would win in a game of pool. A pool victory later, I knew little more about the Japanese tourists, other than that they loved America and were pleased to have shared a conversation with a native (they also loved Budweiser). In another bar I wrote post cards to others at home, and I still remember concentrating on my handwriting while a singer/guitarist played original tunes only twenty feet away. A bartender and I talked about the area, and he shared that he knew nothing about the Grand Canyon; he only answered a job ad from his home town hundreds of miles away. Fate brought him here and he had no intentions to leave.

Earlier that day I grabbed a pint at the bar closest to my cabin room. I sat next to an older man and shared intentions on the trip. This man was finally retired, and once a year he took a bus out to the Grand Canyon to hike down its seemingly limitless cliff. A lone traveler, his retirement focused on trips like these, and the country’s landscapes kept him traveling. While some people might throw in the towel on life, he set his own path, and clearly his road trip is an ongoing venture. Maybe that’s what my trip was about. We’re all free to forge our own path.

Or maybe it was about finding innocence again: discovering that it’s alright to be yourself, to trust your intentions, and to accept and take in the beauty around you. Having an open mind and open eyes allowed me to take in all of the landscape, and giving every bit of the trip a chance is the only way I saw see every bar in the Grand Canyon, went to church in a living room of a snowed-in house and spend a night speaking with Budweiser-fueled Japanese tourists.

Or perhaps, more suitably, I’ll end with my last unedited notes written about my trip, reflecting the innocence and awe regained on this trip:
• Cliffs diving in diagonal directions
• Rainbows in the distance
• Mountains with the texture of rough oil paintings
• A ground full of spots of coal – looking like the world’s biggest barbecue just took place
• Round bushes ready to roll!
• Patches in the distance of sun, fog, rain, all visible in the same view
• A&W Cream Soda Ice Cream Float

Cheers.