FROM SAN DIEGO TO OHIO

The beginning of this five-ish day journey marked the end of an even longer one. About three months prior I had set out from Dayton, OH for three months of back to back away-rotations during my fourth year of medical school. These rotations in Diagnostic Radiology served to advance my knowledge in the subject, but also to help me decide on where I wanted to spend the following four or five years of my life during residency. I spent a month in Lexington, KY at the University of Kentucky, a month in Tucson, AZ at the University of Arizona, and finally a month in Salt Lake City, UT at the University of Utah. 

My stays in these cities, and the drives between them, presented opportunities for unforgettable adventures (I’d recommend checking out the individual posts and films I’ve created about all of them to share in the experience). And after these away rotations were over I drove to San Diego for a friend’s wedding. The wedding was now over and it was time to head home. So, this adventure starts in San Diego.  (keep reading below)

(continued from above) The plan was relatively straightforward: set out on a long 2,342 mile drive back to Ohio, stopping at Joshua Tree and Zion National Park to break up the trip. We were starting on a Sunday and needed to be back on Wednesday night at the latest due to some vacation time issues. So, with stops included we had about four travel days to make it home. 

On the agenda for our first day of travel was a stop at Breakfast Republic in San Diego, a few short hikes and some sightseeing in Joshua Tree National Park, and then a drive to St. George, UT where we’d stay the night. We started our day early, but judging by the wait we faced at Breakfast Republic, not early enough. I vividly remember being the most hungry I’d ever been sitting in the hot sun for an hour and a half waiting for a table. By the time they called our name I was nauseous, and much to my chagrin we got a table outside in the stagnant hot air. My acid reflux was burning my esophagus and overall, I was not a happy camper.

Some coffee helped my mood a bit, and the giant breakfast burrito that made it to my table about 45 minutes after sitting down really did the trick. I left happy, full, and ready for a day of exploration in a new national park. At this point we were already about an hour and a half behind. 

The drive out of San Diego was about what you’d expect. Lots of cars, mostly Priuses, driving really fast and changing lanes with seemingly no regard for the human lives around them. And lots of windmills. After we made it away from the major population centers the roads were a little more peaceful and we settled in for the drive to Joshua Tree National Park. It was a fairly uneventful drive, and we eventually meandered into a small, single road town. It was off of this single road that we stopped at the national park visitors center. Here, I bought my stereotypical national park mug and vinyl sticker, and got some advice on some good short trails we could hike to experience the park. And with some semblance of a plan, we took the road into Joshua Tree National Park. Almost immediately, the landscape began to change. It was like entering another world. Globular rock formations stood on the left and right, and the park’s namesake tree dominated the remaining landscape.

After a few stops on the side of the road for some photos, we pulled into a parking lot to embark on our first short hike. With only a small amount of time we opted for the Hidden Valley Nature Trail. This little one mile hike provided a good sampling of the park’s wildlife, vegetation, and rock formations. 

Our pace was slow, making a conscious effort to simply be present in the nature surrounding us. With only a small distance to cover however, our hike was over in a little over an hour.

After a few stops on the side of the road for some photos, we pulled into a parking lot to embark on our first short hike. With only a small amount of time we opted for the Hidden Valley Nature Trail. This little one mile hike provided a good sampling of the park’s wildlife, vegetation, and rock formations. Our pace was slow, making a conscious effort to simply be present in the nature surrounding us. With only a small distance to cover however, our hike was over in a little over an hour. We then got back in the car and headed to Key’s View. At an elevation of 5,185 feet -compared to the near sea level elevation of the Coachella Valley below- this viewpoint is certainly worth a stop. 

And luckily, our stop happened to be just before sunset. Looking over the mountain ridges just below us we could see for miles, all the way to the valley’s low point off to the southwest. The sun peaked in and out of clouds casting golden rays down on everything in our view. The horizon seemed impossibly far away. These sorts of visual experiences are hard to convey in words. Even pictures fail to do them justice. All I can say is that the sense of incomprehensible space combined with perfect lighting was astonishing. 

We figured Keys View was a hard experience to top, so with the sun setting in the western sky, we once again climbed into the Cruze and set out to our hotel for the night in St. George. 

Whereas the drive earlier than morning from San Diego had taken about two and a half hours, the remaining drive ahead of us was about double that. We set out, exiting the park on its eastern aspect after a slow drive through it, and headed northeast to St. George. 

The brownish oranges of the ground and mountains around us complemented the teals and yellows of the remaining light in the sky nicely as we drove down a mostly deserted highway. The sun finally sent its last photons down on the land around us and tucked behind the horizon for the night. This obscured any views and meant that I could really only see the road lines illuminated by the warm glow of my headlights. Essentially just as I had made it halfway through the Mojave desert I looked down at my gas meter. The needle hovered over the red area. Almost empty. I looked down further at my fuel range. Rather than displaying anything numerical it simply read, “low”. This was obviously a suboptimal situation, but there was really no sense in panicking as there was literally nothing we could do. We hadn’t seen a town or commercial development in the past couple of hours, and I knew we weren’t likely to see one anytime soon. The only thing to do was keep driving forward and hope that the EcoTec engine of my car could use whatever we had left to get us to a fuel stop. The only consolation was the constellations. This was the first time in my life that I was so far away from any light pollution that I could see the equator of the Milky Way. This experience was even more astonishing than the view at Keys View earlier that day. Thinking about the vast distances of space and the true size of our planet in relation to the rest of the galaxy and universe always highlights our relative insignificance. But it’s one thing to think about it, and another thing entirely to see celestial bodies so clearly. My mind got lost in contemplation looking out at it. So lost in fact that I forgot all about our fuel issue until we finally cruised -or perhaps, Cruzed- into the southern side of Las Vegas. I stopped at the first gas station I saw and our anxieties were relieved. On a side note, I would later find out that my credit card got skimmed at this gas station. 

Anyway, we continued onward, with the gas meter needle now hovering over the “F”. It was late. We were tired. But eventually, we made it to the hotel. After another brief struggle loading my most valuable belongings out of my car and onto a luggage cart (remember, I had been away from home for three months), we checked in and our brains checked out for the night. 

We fell asleep at around 1am and woke up at 6am. On the agenda for the day was Zion National Park and I wasn’t about to waste any time. However, by the time we got ready, ate a small continental breakfast, and loaded everything back into my car, it was somehow 7:30. The drive would take about an hour, but like most drives out west, it provided some fantastic views. The sun was rising in the east casting a low angled glow over the land. As we continued closer to the park, mountain ridges began to appear and the road wound back and forth and up and down. Eventually we pulled up to the entrance gate, I showed my annual parks pass, and we were in.

I felt lucky to have arrived early. This roadtrip was the first one I had ever undertaken without extensive research of all of my stopping points. So, I knew nothing about Zion National Park. Whereas Yellowstone and Grand Teton can be explored in your own vehicle, Zion requires guests to all park in a large lot and use a shuttle system to access everything in the park. As such, once the parking lot is full, you’re kind of out of luck. Arriving as early as we did meant that we were able to secure a spot without issue. However, by the time we had gathered our gear and prepared for our day of hiking, the lot was essentially full. I felt bad for the people driving around unsuccessfully looking for a spot, but I couldn’t focus on that. We had a new national park to explore. 

A quick trip to the information center/gift shop allowed us to get a map and my customary national park mug. With the map laid out over the trunk of my car we planned the day, deciding on a hike in The Narrows before driving east to hike the Canyon Overlook trail on our way out of the park. With a plan in place, we hopped on the shuttle bus. The experience vaguely reminded me of something out of Jurassic Park: a ride on a touristy vehicle looking out at amazing views with ever-building excitement for our eventual destination. Our stop was the last on the route all the way at the end of the giant canyon-like park. 

The Narrows is an aptly named hike through water that is sometimes waist deep with tight near-vertical canyon walls on either side. After a short hike back through some trees, with the rock walls on the left and right gradually converging, we eventually made it to the start of the proper “feet wet” portion of the hike. The number of people surrounding us was staggering. I let my mind gradually tune them out and we took our first step into the ankle-deep water. The cold was a bit of a shock to the system but we quickly got used to it. We trudged step by step through the water, being careful not to trip on the uneven rocky stream bed below our feet. I had an expensive camera in my hand, so the consequences for an accidental dip would’ve been tragic. The water continued to deepen, first to our calves, then our thighs. With more water to push against our progress gradually slowed but the experience of being completely surrounded by the canyon walls was well worth it. Eventually I looked down at my watch, prompting us to turn back. We still had more of the park to explore, plus several hours worth of driving to do. We made our way back to the ankle deep  water, took one last look at the beautiful narrow canyon, and walked back to wait on the shuttle. 

After another beautiful shuttle ride back to the parking lot we drove east on toward the start of the Canyon Overlook trail. The road wound back and forth up the side of a canyon wall and eventually brought us to a tunnel wide enough for only one lane. We waited for our turn to go through and made it safely to the other side, emerging in the bright sun just at the start of the trail we were after. We parked behind a Jeep Rubicon in the dirt on the side of the road and set off to the canyon overlook. Much of the trail was on a relatively wide ledge with a sharp drop-off to our left. A walk across a small metal truss bridge with a wooden bottom suspended over a gap with a large drop below was the sketchiest part of the hike, and after that, only about two hundred yards of trail over some undulations in the solid rock beneath our feet separated us from the view we had come for. 

We made a small ascent up about 20 feet of rocky steps and the canyon suddenly came into view. It was overwhelmingly beautiful. A chain link fence with posts driven into the rock was all that separated us from the vertical drop below. We stood at the apex of what was essentially a horseshoe of canyon walls spanning several thousand feet into the distance. At the bottom of these walls was the floor of the canyon probably a couple of hundred feet below where we stood. The winding road we had taken just before the single-lane tunnel was a tiny grey ribbon moving into the rock face out on our left. The midday sun lit everything perfectly. These vast expanses of land with significant changes in elevation are always too much to really take in, but we stood there for a while doing our best. 

Once we got past the mountains of Colorado the drive was relatively uninteresting, giving me time to reflect on the past few months. I had left home on a journey to learn medicine and build relationships, looking for some clarity on where I wanted to spend the next few years of my life in residency. Ultimately, I found it. I knew where I wanted to end up. And beyond that, I experienced tremendous mental growth. There’s something about getting away from what’s familiar and forcing yourself to adapt to a new pattern of living in a completely new environment. You’re forced to figure things out in order to live, with nobody else to rely on, all while continuing to perform well in your school or work. Of course this is much easier today than it would’ve been for a frontiersman or colonist, but I think the concept is still valid. These sort of experiences build self confidence as you begin to realize that you can truly rely on yourself in the “real world”. I had adapted to completely new living environments three times in three months, and I can honestly say that I was more confident and comfortable in my own skin as a result. And on top of this, I had some unforgettable experiences: hikes with friends on mountains, cross country drives in beautiful locations, hanging out in the forest all day while completing my residency applications, visiting mountaintop observatories, and many others. Individually, they were some of my absolute favorite memories. Taken together, they had comprised what was without a doubt the best Summer of my life.

Once we got past the mountains of Colorado the drive was relatively uninteresting, giving me time to reflect on the past few months. I had left home on a journey to learn medicine and build relationships, looking for some clarity on where I wanted to spend the next few years of my life in residency. Ultimately, I found it. I knew where I wanted to end up. And beyond that, I experienced tremendous mental growth. There’s something about getting away from what’s familiar and forcing yourself to adapt to a new pattern of living in a completely new environment. You’re forced to figure things out in order to live, with nobody else to rely on, all while continuing to perform well in your school or work. Of course this is much easier today than it would’ve been for a frontiersman or colonist, but I think the concept is still valid. These sort of experiences build self confidence as you begin to realize that you can truly rely on yourself in the “real world”. I had adapted to completely new living environments three times in three months, and I can honestly say that I was more confident and comfortable in my own skin as a result. And on top of this, I had some unforgettable experiences: hikes with friends on mountains, cross country drives in beautiful locations, hanging out in the forest all day while completing my residency applications, visiting mountaintop observatories, and many others. Individually, they were some of my absolute favorite memories. Taken together, they had comprised what was without a doubt the best Summer of my life.