Introduction

Although this adventure may not have all of the drama and excitement of the Lewis and Clark trek across the new Louisiana Purchase frontier, it was to me the fulfillment of a dream, ten years in the making.

I am not getting any younger, as they say, and my health, although fairly stable at the time of my foray into the unknown, was, and continues to be rather precarious. My medical vulnerabilities could not be taken for granted, in any case.

Travelin’ Man

I have never had any substantial monetary resources, having worked much of my life as a teacher and administrator until the debilitating symptoms of heart disease brought that chapter to a close in the late 1990’s. By 2004, it was obvious to my doctors that I would not survive unless they replaced my mitral heart valve. Thanks to the fact that I served in the U.S. Navy during the Viet Nam conflict, I would ultimately receive this surgery through the Veteran’s Administration Heath Services program.

To make a long story longer, I received this open-heart surgery in June of 2005. Twenty years later, I am still alive thanks to these dedicated health care providers.

However, as time moves inevitably toward the end of me, I had this desire, this urge to travel as I had done in my life, many times before. In fact, one might consider me a nomad, in that regard.

From the earliest days of my life, my parents had also moved about, my father, specifically, hoping for a better life for himself and his family. At the age of two, we moved to the central coast, the Monterrey Bay area of California. During the next six year we moved several times to accommodate his job search. However, ultimately, he became disillusioned with what he considered to be the rat race that chasing that dream entailed.

Meanwhile, his father was getting ready to build a rural general store and invited his son to return to his roots. Our family subsequently returned to the town of New Pekin, Indiana. For the next ten years we, as a family, would struggle with my father’s tumultuous behavior versus the security of having both my mother’s and father’s parents to support us through those chaotic times.

In the end, upon graduation from high school, I decided that enough was enough and with great expectations in mind, hitchhiked cross-country, returning to California.

This was only the first of my extensive travels, back and forth across the U.S., as well as, overseas to the south pacific during my time in the military.

I first left home in 1970. Fifty-five years later, I still feel the pull of wanderlust.

Chapter 1: May 12 – 18

After ten years of wishful thinking, I was finally able to put aside some money for a vehicle and the trip itself. Less than a year earlier I had found myself a 2013 Toyota Sienna, in decent shape, with an odometer reading of just above 100,000 miles. She ran real good. Anticipating the long road trip, I did an extensive inspection and tune up on it, checking off each necessary maintenance requirement.

Despite the ups and downs of my health issues over the past two decades, now seemed like as good a time as any to disembark on this solo journey across the continental United States.

The travelin' van with art display

I had previously rigged my new van to display art at various festivals or any other opportunity I might have to show it off. Further, I had installed a wooden storage box, a “single” inflatable mattress, a sleeping bag, a two-burner Coleman stove, and various other camping necessities.

Initially, I had added a carrier bag that was strapped to the rooftop, to transport at least 15 pieces of medium sized art to sell or give away over the course of the trip.

The first leg of my journey would take me to the east coast. The ultimate goal was to touch the waters of the Atlantic Ocean and the Pacific Ocean on the opposite side of the country. As I travelled, I would try to visit as many friends and relatives as I could, along the way. In the end, including Louisiana, I would travel through twenty-seven states.

From New Orleans, I struck out on Interstate 10 east, going as far as Mobile, Alabama before veering north on Interstate 65 to Montgomery, where I encountered my first traffic jam, a serious accident that delayed me for at least a half of an hour before I caught I-85 which would take me through Georgia, South and North Carolina, and up to Virginia Beach, Virginia.

As I made my way from state to state, the speed limit varied little on the main highways. 70 and 75, being the maximum speed, I noted many vehicles, including the 18-wheelers, passing me up as I maintained a comfortable 70 miles per hour.

If memory serves, I did my first overnight camping in a rest area just outside Atlanta. The second night was spent in a Walmart lot near Virginia Beach. These would become two of the most preferred types of safe parking spots as I made my way across the U.S.

As far as gasoline and gasolene prices, the big truck stops, like Loves and the TA Travel Centers, usually proved to be the least expensive places, gas-wise, on the Interstates from coast to coast. Of course, I tried to find the cheapest prices when I was visiting family in Indiana and California.

I had dreamed of taking a variety of backroad excursions as I made my way cross-country but even in the beginning, I realized that time would be a factor. The scenery in the south east would be a lush green as the waning days of spring were well underway. In another month and a half, it would be summer and I warily envisioned the high heat of the season potentially impacting my journey across the desert lands as I would make my way home from the west coast.

During the first two days of travel, the skies were mostly cloudy. On the night of the 13th, as I approached my Virginia Beach destination it began raining which added to the confusion of trying to navigate the serrated coast line. I knew I had made the Atlantic coast; I just could not find a place to touch the water.

By morning, however, the sky was clearing and I found Virginia Beach without further delay. Splashing feet and hands in the salty brine, I had made good on the first leg of my travels. I sat sipping a cup of coffee for the better part of two hours before climbing back into my van and heading north, once more.

The Atlantic Ocean 5-14-2025

From Virginia Beach I caught Interstate 64 to Richmond and then I 95 north, hoping to find Silver Springs, Maryland. My first experience with the Washington D.C. roadways was on Interstate 495 or the Beltway, as it is called, circling the nation’s Capital. It was an awful experience, to say the least.

All day and night, (or so it would seem), there was a slow procession of bumper-to-bumper traffic endlessly inching toward some final destination inside or outside of that eternally congested thoroughfare. I spent most of the 14th trying to find Silver Springs, a non-descript suburb somewhere on the western side of the loop. Of course, I would pass my exit by, exceeding it by many miles before making a u-turn to eventually find the off-ramp I needed to take. My friend Helaine Michaels, a former resident of New Orleans, greeted me at the base of a 25 story high-rise apartment building. Her apartment was on the 21st floor.

We spent the evening chatting about politics and the state of the nation over pizza. She had left the crescent city around 2015 to reside near one of her daughters who lived not too far from the apartment into which she had eventually moved.

Our original connection had taken place eighteen years earlier at the original Neutral Ground Coffeehouse on Danneel Street in New Orleans. She was a singer and an excellent piano player and in the few years we hung out together, we occasionally performed two-hour sets or played at the Sunday open mic nights. During that time, we also co-wrote a song based on her flight from the infamous Hurricane Katrina. She had provided a penned poem, which I edited and set to music. It was ultimately titled, “Another Hurricane”.

The next day, as Helaine had previous plans and I was intent on seeing the Capitol and visiting the Smithsonian Institute, we parted ways. Wisely, I had decided not to drive myself to the center of the city but to hire a Lyft, instead. That got me dropped off at the foot of the great congressional hall. The streets that day were crowded with police from all over the region, and perhaps the country, as there was some kind of official ceremony acknowledging the deeds and sacrifices of law enforcement across our nation. Despite the rising temperature, I had elected to walk around the back of the white domed building to get a quick look at the Supreme Court edifice. A modest group of protesters were urging the jurists in their deliberations to consider the needs of the citizenry.

From there I walked around the far side of the capitol building, and began traversing the National Mall with the Washington Monument marking the limits of my walk-about.

U.S. Capital Bldg. 5-15-2025 National Mall Smithsonian Air and Space

Wright Brother's aircraft

Smithsonian Air and Space Smithsonian Museum of Art Smithsonian Museum of Art

At this point, I had turned my attention to the many buildings comprising the Smithsonian Institute. These museums skirted the western side of the Mall. Due to time constraints and my own walking limitations, I focused on two of the many museums. First, with the help of a friendly staffer I was given a handicapped pass to slip into the otherwise very crowded Air and Space Museum. I had hoped to see the space shuttle Discovery but, unfortunately, that section of the museum was closed off. There were, however, many good exhibits featuring our nation’s foray into the skies and beyond.

From there I hiked down to the two massive art museums of the Smithsonian. As an artist, I was mesmerized by the variety of styles and the opportunity to stand mere inches away from some of the world’s greatest works of art. I took dozens of pictures as I moved through the maze of rooms in two great buildings. Finally, when I had nearly run out of steam I headed back to Helaine’s apartment.

Helaine and I went out to dinner at a nearby bistro and were entertained by a friend who sang and played piano for the diners. The following day we spent catching up on things. I told her that I had brought paintings to share with family and friends and she picked out two small pieces to fit into her otherwise art occupied walls.

Friend, Helaine Michaels Cousin, Dani Keating

Another overnight stay and I packed and was off to have a brief visit with my cousin Dani, my Aunt “Jeanneen’s” oldest daughter.

Dani Keating lives in the Alexandria area, not too far from Helaine’s place. Despite the proximity, due to the sluggish traffic on the infamous Beltway, it took me a good part of the afternoon to get close to our rendezvous spot. Mid-afternoon I found a small city park and grabbed a quick bite to eat from my van stash.

All during the trip I would maintain a supply of fresh fruit, cereal bars, coffee, instant oatmeal, ramen noodles, trail mix, canned soups, yogurt cups, applesauce cups, etc. I also carried several gallons of bottled water for drinking and cooking.

About this time, I was still in the midst of trying to figure out how to use the GPS system built into the van. As I ate, I spent about a half an hour going over the vehicle’s operations manual. I had attempted to use it to find Virginia Beach but it wanted a specific street address and I didn’t have one to enter. It was also of little help to me getting to Helaine’s apartment, as I was too far away when I first entered the exact address. Finally, I realized that it would only be useful if I was in the immediate area or city limits.

I still had some time before our meetup so I decided to test the impact of using the van as an art gallery. In Old Town, Alexandria, I set up shop at Market Square. It was hot, around 90 degrees, as it had been the day before in D. .C.. After about four hours I packed it in. My artistic content is definitely unique to the deep south and garnered some looks but no one asked a price. At this point I knew in my heart that the paintings I had brought with me would become gifts to family and friends along the way.

My engagement with Dani would be short and sweet. Our party included her beau, Mark, and a coworker/friend. Dani and I did most of the talking. We talked about our lives, families, and careers. Having only crossed paths briefly sometime in the 1990’s, I must admit that I had missed out on much of her life. I found out that she frequently travels and has seen many places around the world. She proudly proclaims herself as a Life Coach. And, as per seeing her Facebook posts, she has become very involved in painting and remodeling her home, as well. Before we parted ways, I showed off my camping van and gave her my three books and a small painting.

Sometimes it isn’t easy to keep track of all of your relations, as they are scattered and often moving about from place to place, as I also have been known to do. But it was a fun visit and I will try to follow her more closely on Facebook and Instagram in the future.

Later that same evening, I opted to begin driving westward toward my next destination. After untangling myself from the beltway traffic, I found myself traversing state road 50. Although twilight faded to dark over the first few hours, I had decided to take this two-lane back road, if for nothing else than to get away from the Washington D.C. area traffic. Although I had to contend with a myriad of stop lights and slow passes through tiny towns along the winding country thoroughfare, it was refreshing, to say the least.

After several hours, I had made my way to Interstate 81 south which would eventually merge into I-64, near Lexington, Virginia. Driving south for a few more hours, I eventually grew too weary to travel further and found highway rest stop to stay overnight in, just west of Charlottesville, Virginia.

I-64 Appalachian Mountains

I began the run to Louisville, Kentucky, early the following morning. As I made my way across the remainder of Virginia and West Virginia I enjoyed the late spring passage through the Appalachian Mountains. This would be the first real test of my van’s ability to navigate mountainous terrain. I was thankful that she ran like a top, although I did become anxious about running out of gas, at one point. In a small mountain village, I managed to find one gas station, and although the price was definitely jacked up, I considered myself lucky.

Ultimately, after a long but pleasant drive across the familiar landscape of Kentucky, I opted to stay over in a small motel to freshen up before dropping in on my oldest son, Jonathan and his family in Jeffersonville, Indiana. That night marked the end of my first week on the road.

(C) 2025 Michael S. True - published by TruEnergy Enterprises