2022 Parks Road Trip: Reflections
2022 Parks Road Trip Diary: Summary
After almost three months, the road trip is finally over! It’s time to retrospect on everything that happened and what I learned living with such a different lifestyle.
Trip Stats
On this 81-day trip, we visited 21 of the 63 US national parks and 5 of the 38 Canada national parks.
We drove approximately 13,000 miles.
Spending
During the trip, the two of us together spent about $8550, which translates to $1570 per person per month. (This does not include any gear purchased before the trip began.) Here’s a breakdown by category:
| Category | Spend | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| Lodging | $1,918.87 | All campground fees |
| Groceries | $2,096.01 | Camp food |
| Dining | $2,073.50 | Mostly from splurges during city visits and pit stops while driving |
| Gas | $1,306.21 | Gas prices were especially high during the trip (avg > $4.00/gal), but at least we were getting 40 mpg |
| Misc | $1,158.50 | Gear purchases / replacements, laundry, showers, and non-food supplies |
| Total | $8,553.09 |
Looks like I know what our plan is if money gets tight!
Hiking
According to AllTrails, across all the hikes we did, we traveled somewhere between 450 - 500 miles of distance and 115k - 130k feet of elevation gain. We were on the trail for about 200 - 250 hours, and all this activity burned an extra ~100k calories.
Here are some superlatives, as judged by the two of us:
| Justin | Judy | |
|---|---|---|
| Favorite park | Glacier NP of Canada | Glacier NP of Canada |
| Best moment | Sliding down the snowy mountain after a triumphant hike to Camp Muir, Mount Rainier NP | Encountering the baby bear, Grand Teton NP |
| Worst moment | The unexpected campground closure when arriving late at night, after leaving Saguaro NP | Relentless mosquitos in Johnston Canyon campground, Banff NP of Canada |
| Most ridiculous moment | Scrambling to pack up camp at 4AM before a downpour, Glacier NP | Everyone stripped down to underwear at the campground, Death Valley NP |
| Favorite hike | Abbott Ridge, Glacier NP of Canada | Siyeh Pass Trail, Glacier NP |
| Most challenging hike | Swiftcurrent Pass Trail, Glacier NP | Siyeh Pass Trail, Glacier NP |
| Hike that couldn’t end soon enough | Hellroaring Creek Trail, Yellowstone NP (the relentless bugs) | High and Star Dune Loop, Great Sand Dunes NP (the neverending sand) |
Physical & Mental Health
I’m overall a decently healthy dude, but during this trip is the healthiest I’ve felt in a long time.
Exercise and Diet
The frequent exercise was a major change from my norm; a typical hike we’d do (~8 mi, ~3000 ft) burns something like 1500 calories. Of course, I would then eat more to make up for it, but would probably still end up at an overall deficit. I lost five pounds after the 81 days, but the resulting weight loss wasn’t the important part. What felt healthy was to be using so much energy all the time and to never end a day with too much of a surplus.
The diet was probably also a major factor in feeling healthier. The criteria we used to choose our meals was simple: (1) must be reasonably nutritionally balanced and (2) must be easy to cook and easy to store the ingredients for. We experimented with a bunch of different meals in the beginning, but by the second half we got into a pretty standard routine:
| Breakfasts keep it light before the hike |
Yogurt and granola + coffee Instant oatmeal + coffee |
| Lunches easy to make, easy to carry |
Turkey, cheese, mayo, and arugula sandwich Tuna and mayo sandwich Peanut butter & banana sandwich |
| Snacks for a variety of situations |
Trail mix / protein bars Apples, clementines, and bananas Chips & salsa Guilty pleasure snack / candy |
| Dinners filling, satisfying, and balanced |
Veggies + tofu stir fry + rice Onion + bell pepper + sausage stir fry + potatoes Lentils + potato + onion + coconut milk + indian spices + side veggie Rice + beans + sausage + honey + cajun spices + side veggie Pasta + red sauce + stir fry ground meat + side veggie |
We joked about continuing this regimen even after returning home because it was so simple, and cheap too. The allure of culinary diversity ultimately foiled that plan.
Hygiene
In previous posts, I was often greatly enthused over getting a decent shower, which probably makes it seem like we were disgusting sweaty people all the time. We were not. I might be willing to get that way for just a weekend camping trip, but when you’re doing this for three months, you need a plan.
Showers were our way to reset and get totally clean, and we could basically always get one at least every four days. Many campgrounds had paid showers, and we were doing so much driving from place to place that if needed we could usually find a paid public shower somewhere along the route. Sometimes we needed to get clever, like how we went to the community pool in Sedona, but it always worked out.
Between showers, a washcloth and soap went a long way, especially right after a hike. We had a big bottle of Dr. Bronners soap that was invaluable. Nothing wrong with stripping down to your shorts in the middle of your campsite and washing up there. During summer, everything was usually pretty quick to dry even without a towel. We also used baby wipes when needed as a holdover between shower or washcloth washings.
Sleep Schedule
In the very first post about Guadalupe, I mentioned how quickly our sleep schedule adjusted to match the sunlight. It stayed that way for nearly the entire trip, the only exceptions being when we stayed with friends in Vancouver & SF. I really loved having this schedule.
It felt right to be awakened by first light and to fall asleep once it got dark outside. In the summer months, there actually are only about 8-10 hours of darkness (depending on latitude), so you’re getting just about as much sleep as you need if you sleep only when it’s dark out. It’s perfect!
It’s really hard to stick to this kind of schedule when you’re not camping though, for a few reasons. First, tents get a lot of sun exposure, which can be hard to match in an apartment or house. Second, when you’re camping and it becomes dark out, there’s basically nothing to see or do except maybe stare at the campfire, which is a big motivator for just going to sleep. Last, camping is generally paired with some other physical activity (for us, hiking), which wears you out and makes you want to sleep early.
After returning, we even tried to stick to this schedule, and it worked for a few days. Then we decided to stay up a little longer one night to binge watch some show we were catching up on, and it became too difficult to go back.
Digital Minimalism
Most of the parks we visited in the west had either zero or way-too-slow cell data, effectively cutting us off from casually using the internet. As a result, we rarely used our mobile devices, except to track hikes on AllTrails and to listen to pre-downloaded podcasts while driving.
It was interesting to observe my own responses to this change. In the beginning I’d frequently take my phone out of my pocket when bored, stare blankly at the grid of apps, remember that I couldn’t do anything with any of them, and finally put the phone away. It became painfully clear that I’d built up a habit of filling idle time by whipping out my phone with no particular task in mind other than to find something to entertain me for a brief moment. I hated that I would do it almost programatically, with so little intention or self-awareness.
After a few weeks, these impulses subsided. I can’t say that I felt like a transformed person or anything – if there was a difference in me, its hard to separate how much of it was from this versus the rest of my environment changing so drastically. But I am sure that my screen time declined significantly, and I believe that was a good thing. I felt no lack from not having the internet, and I spent more time on other activities, so that seems like a strict win to me.
I wish I could tell you that once I returned I made some big change in my phone usage habits, but it was too easy to regress. I am at least more aware of its impact on me now, given the freshness of this experience of not having it at all. I also feel more at peace with doing nothing and letting my mind wander. There’s always been a sign hanging in my bedroom that says, “go outside, you silly human”, and it’s now taken on new meaning.
Deeper Philosophical Reflections
You get a lot of time to think out there on the trail, and to reflect on the experience of temporarily leading such a different life. Here’s a peek at my inner Thoreau.
Happiness is Relative
The initial adjustment from normal life to camp life in the first few weeks was not easy. We were so tired from all the hiking. We were frequently hungry due to all the exercise. We were exposed to rain and bugs and lots of hot sun. Shower access was rare. Everything at camp, from cooking to sleeping, felt like it was twice as hard as it was at home.
But this way of living eventually became the new norm, and it was ultimately sustainable. In other words, nothing was getting worse. The feeling of a soft bed and an air conditioned apartment faded from my memory, and with it the feeling of struggling faded too.
With this as the new baseline, little pleasures that were previously standard became reasons to celebrate. A tall tree offered much-needed shade from the sun. Just sitting down in our camping chairs after a long hike was a joy. A warm shower became a divine experience. Because of the frequent calorie deficit, all our food tasted so delicious.
It was so counterintuitive that thrusting myself into worse conditions could amplify life’s simple pleasures. I realize now there are several adages touting this, a common one being absence makes the heart grow fonder. Realizing that this effect was consistent made it easier to deal with the absences (the pain / discomfort / etc); I knew that when relief did finally come, it would be that much sweeter.
Resilience
There were many moments where my mental fortitude was tested: relentless mosquitoes, having to cook in the rain, trying to sleep in hundred-degree heat, having to drive until midnight searching for a place to sleep, and much more. Fortunately we never hit any issues that put us off track for more than a day, but the journey certainly had its share of unexpected challenges.
When we started this trip, I told myself there would be challenges, but those unknowns were part of the adventure. I took everything as a personal test, as a chance to affirm that, yes, I could overcome this situation too. When the mosquitoes were biting, for example, I did not feel like a victim, because I chose to subject myself to such nature when I decided to do this trip. Instead, I found humor in the pile of fifteen dead mosquitos amassed in our tent after five minutes of precision clapping, and pride in our skill of snatching them out of the air. I mean, it’s not like we were going to just turn around and go home because of a few bugs, so we had to figure out how to have a little fun with it.
Taking this line of thinking as broad as possible: there will be challenges in life, but those unknowns are part of its adventure. I appreciate how conflict gives rise to a story, and to see myself as the protagonist in that narrative who shows that no matter the setback, he can keep his story unfolding, hopefully injecting a little humor along the way. No doubt life will contain trials that are harder than a few mosquito bites, and it may be difficult to avoid the self-pity and self-doubt that creeps in at low moments, but this attitude is an anchor I can return to.
That’s a big logical leap, but after this trip I really do feel more confident in my resilience in the face of hardship. I think anyone might feel the same after a long adventure with lots of individual freedom to choose what comes next, and with lots of unknowns that will put you outside your comfort zone. If that’s something you can fit into your life somehow, do it. I think you’ll come out a stronger person.
Having Purpose
This trip also made me reflect deeply on my own need to have purpose in my life. When you spend 81 days being an almost-literal Sisyphus, climbing peaks only to climb back down again, you kind of have to ask yourself: what’s the point? Don’t get me wrong; the views are great, but the views alone are not enough to keep you going for that long.
One place I felt a surprising amount of purpose was simply in my role to take care of life’s necessities. I’m talking about setting up and taking down the tent, packing and unpacking, grocery shopping and cooking, doing laundry, and the like – everything that was needed to make it possible to keep the trip going. It’s surprising, because this work is so menial, but what made the difference was that it needed to happen and it wasn’t going to unless I (er, we) did it. This kind of work filled much of the day outside of hiking, and so I was rarely left with time for bordeom to set in.
Of course, enough menial work like that and you begin to question your entire situation. Treating the whole trip as a giant a personal challenge was part of my response to this, because it feels like there is deeper purpose in self-growth. As long as I could convince myself that I’d come out stronger from having gotten through some trial, it felt purposeful to do it. Why else would I want to visit Death Valley in the summer?
Naturally, this led me to wonder how I could retain this depth of purpose in the day-to-day of my normal life. My job is where I spend most of my waking hours, and I generally really like it, but there it’s harder to identify a deeper motivation. My personal impact is several steps removed from the human impact of my company’s product. I’m not saving up money for anything specific, and I don’t have any particular vision in mind for what I want the rest of my career to look like. Outside of work, I mostly just try to relax and have fun, and I haven’t been working towards anything in particular.
In any case, this trip gave me a much needed tangible reminder of what it feels like to live purposefully, even if it was sort of artificially created. I’m eager to find another source of self-growth, or to discover other forms of purpose.
‘Til Next Time
As someone who prefers nature tourism to cultural / city tourism, this was the best trip away from home I’ve ever been on.
If it were possible, I’d do it every summer. Life on the road gets easier the more experience you have, too – I can think of several improvements I’d invest in for the next round. On future trips, I’d probably switch up the route a little bit to prevent it from getting too repetitive, but many of the parks we visited definitely have high re-visit value.
Life’s real responsibilities are calling now, so I’m not sure how I’ll make it happen yet, but there’s definitely going to be a second act for me at some point. Hopefully before Glacier NP runs out of glaciers. For now, I’ll just look back at this blog and remember the good times. 😊
post originally written 1/29, backdated to match reality