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I went to a conference in Mobile a few years back. Another time I was at a conference in Auburn. Both places were steaming hot. Mobile had some nice tree-lined streets, a run-down downtown and a big old cathedral. I went on board the USS Alabama, docked near the town. Some guys cruising in a car yelled insults at me as I walked down the main street one night. I wasn't insulted in Auburn, but it did rain most of the time I was there, and there was one tornado warning. So I really can't say I saw much in either place. I love Alaska. I have an uncle and three cousins who live in Anchorage, and I've visited them three times. I took a road trip with two of my cousins one time, driving up to Denali National Park, across the Denali Highway, down to Glennallen and back over to Palmer. Another time I flew into Fairbanks for a conference, and when it was over my uncle drove up to get me in an RV and took me back to Anchorage. We stayed briefly on the property of my uncle's ex wife's parents north of Fairbanks. What a trip that was. They have all kinds of land, but they live in a trailer that doesn't even have plumbing. They crap in a bucket and dump it outside in a pit. These are elderly people I'm talking about. While I was there my cousin pointed out a couple of small fires and told me that they were burning their dried shit. What a life! More recently, my wife and I visited Anchorage in 2002. Read that whole story here. My first time in the state was on a flight to California in 1989. We stopped in Phoenix and I made a point of walking out of the airport and finding a patch of grass outside. I laid down in the grass and looked up at the stars for a while. Then I walked leisurely back to my gate to continue my flight to Philadelphia, at which point I discovered the plane had loaded and was ready to pull away from the gate. I nearly ended up living in Arizona permanently. About five years later, I visited my relatives in New Mexico, and my cousin Barry and I took a road trip to the Grand Canyon. It was on this trip that I posed for this picture. We camped out near the canyon and spent a few days exploring it. Subsequently I've visited Phoenix and Scottsdale several times. In 1999 I made my second visit to the Grand Canyon with my girlfriend (now my wife), saw Sedona, stood on a corner in Winslow, and drove clear across the state and into New Mexico. I had an excellent mountain bike ride in the desert near Scottsdale.
I was in Mississippi to attend a conference in Tunica, a popular casino area. I arrived one day early just so I could finally visit Arkansas. Rather than just spend a few minutes there, I decided to stay overnight and drive around the next day. Renting a car at the Memphis airport, I drove down Highway 61 into Mississippi for an hour until I came to the road leading to the Helena Bridge, a narrow, two-lane bridge spanning the wide river. At 5:00 on the dot I reached the other side and entered Arkansas. I pulled to the shoulder the first chance I got and stepped out of the car to enjoy the moment. Conceding that it wasn't very enjoyable in that particular spot, I drove on to the welcome center a mile or two up the road. It was closed, but I got a picture of myself next to the sign. Then I went into the town of Helena. It was obviously a depressed area, with many dilapidated houses and buildings. I found the town's main street and parked next to Oliver's restaurant. It seemed like the only business open, other than a nearby liquor store. I walked up the levy for a look at the river on the other side. In a gazebo at the top were a black man, his face weathered and scarred, and a teenage black girl, who asked me what time it was (5:20). I asked them .... (Read more) I first visited in 1989 when I flew to San Francisco. This was the first of many visits to the city (at least 6 that I can think of). I took a bus tour on that first visit to see all the sites, and when we got to Seal Rock, I had my first view of the Pacific Ocean. I was so excited that I simply had to go put my hand in the water. I stood on the beach, timing the waves, then moved up and put my hand in the surf. The next thing I knew a surprise wave rushed in and soaked my shoes. I was touching the ocean with my feet for the rest of the day. So far, on various visits, I have driven almost the entire California coast, from Mexico up to Oregon. The only chunk I haven't driven is between Santa Barbara and San Luis Obispo. I've also driven across the state, from San Francisco to Yosemite, passing through the farmland in the great San Jaquin Valley. I've visited friends in LA five times, which is about enough, I think. Overall, I like northern California best. When I earned my first frequent flier ticket I began scheming to go to a state I had never visited. I had a college pal who lived in Denver, so I called him up and asked him about the city. I had a dream of relocating, and I liked the idea of all the mountains in central Colorado. He agreed to host me for a few days, so I booked my ticket. Mostly I stayed in Denver, biking along the city bike trails. I also drove to Pike's Peak and did some mountain biking in the Garden of the Gods near there. I went out to some bars by myself one night and took a bus back to my friend's house. I rode with all these winos and homeless types who befriended me (no doubt thinking I was also a drunk because of my breath) and told me stories of missing the last bus and getting locked up by the police for "public drunkenness." More recently, in winter 2002, I visited my cousin and his wife in Colorado Springs and skiied at Breckenridge. It was no warmer than 5 degrees that entire day. I loved it. My parent's had some itinerant friends who lived here briefly so we visited them in the fall of 1979. My second--and really only other--visit was when I biked through the state in 1991 on my way from Maine to Pennsylvania. My most memorable experiences there were in New Haven, where I spoke at length with a homeless woman and talked a stranger into inviting me into her home (and cooking me dinner). In September 2002 my wife and I drove to the Interlaken Inn in Lakeville and spent a few days there at a conference. I found an excellent running route through the woods and alongside a secluded lake, and I loved running there every day, then jumping into the lake for a cool swim. My sister now lives in Delaware, so I'm there more than ever these days. My first real trip there was to Ocean City, where a friend's folks had a house. I honestly wasn't impressed with Ocean City. I liked Bethany Beach a little better. Newark is a cool college town to walk around in and have a drink. I've also gone tubing on the Brandywine River in Delaware. I discovered some excellent mountain biking trails in Brandywine State Park, not far from my home. Florida is my least favorite state. There, I said it up front. I hate the humid, oppressive heat. Close behind is the attitude of some residents who apparently feel that the whole world longs to live in Florida but only they are lucky enough to do so. (OK, so Californians have this attitude too, but I like it less in Floridians.) Now that I've insulted everyone who might possibly be reading this section, I'll say that I loved the waves on Florida beaches when I was biking down A1A the length of the state in 1990. And I did meet some nice people along the way, like Jim Whitmore, who rode his bike from Florida to Pennsylvania at the same time I was riding south from Pennsylvania. My friend Dave used to live in Davie, Florida, west of Fort Lauderdale, and he's an all right guy. In Cocoa Beach I got
the door slammed in my face by a priest when I asked if I
could set up my tent on the church's ample lawn for the
night. Near Orlando I got honked at and nearly forced
Recently my wife and I traveled to Fort Lauderdale to visit her mom. We had a good time seeing the Everglades (see my story), and we also spent a day on the beach in Lauderdale. It wasn't that terrible a trip, but it sure was hot. Land of Adventure--or so the signs say when you enter the state. My first visit was as a child, on our big drive down to Florida in 1971. I had a more extensive visit in 1990 when I rode my bike down to Florida. I spent 5 days in Georgia, pedaling my bike every inch of the way. I was initially worried about being hassled by rednecks (ala "Deliverance") but that naive fear was quickly dispelled. I met a lot of very nice people in Georgia. Pastors in three churches (Mitzva Methodist, Paterson Baptist, and Church of God in St. George) let me stay overnight in their church buildings, out of the heat. I spent a great two days at Boy Scout Camp Tolochee, helping out at the pool and making friends with the guys there. Except for the heat (and one 30-mile stretch where all the water had sulfur in it), Georgia was a wonderful place. We went to Maui for our honeymoon. We had fun, but it started out miserably. It poured rain for 3 days, we were sick, our hotel wasn't the best. But once the sun came out we snorkled, hiked in the volcano, drove the road to Hana, swam in waterfalls, and had fun. We were also in Kauai. Read more.
When I visited Utah on a frequent flier ticket, I planned to rent a car and drive up into Idaho and Wyoming, just a short trek so I could say I set foot in each state. I was staying with a retired friend named Tony in Salt Lake City, and when he heard I wanted to see the northern states, he offered to drive me. He set a goal of Jackson, Wyoming, and we headed north. We eventually reached Bear Lake and drove alongside it until we crossed into Idaho. I had originally intended to stop at the lake to enjoy my first visit to Idaho, but the rain made that a ridiculous idea. Sadly, within a few miles we had passed out of Idaho and into Wyoming, without me having had to chance to set foot in the state. We had an interesting night in Wyoming, and drove onward the next day. My disappointment at not putting my foot down in Idaho (double meaning intentional) evaporated, however, when we crossed back into the state. We had decided to head to a smaller, less expensive ski resort near Jackson and spend the day there, then visit Jackson tomorrow. After two hours of driving we pulled into Driggs, Idaho, and got a room at another Best Western. Finally I was able to set foot in Idaho, making it the 44th state I had visited. Driggs, Idaho. What a place. Just a few stores, a few ski and bike rental shops, a few bars. It was icy everywhere that day. Ice on the sidewalks, ice on the streets, and a cold wind blowing across the open valley and down the main street. Driggs. I rented downhill skis in town and we set off for Grand Targhee Resort. As we followed the snow-covered road into the mountains, the Grand Tetons came into view and we stopped for some pictures. They were quite a site. They were in my line of vision all day on the ski slopes. At the end of the day we headed back to Griggs. Tony wanted gin and tonics so we bought the ingredients and enjoyed a few glasses in the room. Thus fortified, we set out in search of dinner, which we found in a pizza place that was also a bar. The liquor made conversation flow easily and we had an enjoyable dinner there. In the morning we headed to Jackson, and that was the last I saw of Idaho. I was born here. I lived in Chicago as a tot, and moved to Mount Prospect as a lad. I liked it here--until I was brutally torn away when my dad got transferred, and forced to live in Pennsylvania. Still, I never saw much of Illinois outside of the Chicagoland area. We went to Galena once. I visited Woodstock once, after stopping in to see my aunt in McHenry. I've stayed downtown a dozen times. I love walking around downtown Chicago, along the lake, under the tracks of the el, along the Chicago River. It's my favorite city. I drove through Indiana numerous times, mostly with my family as we made our annual treks from Pennsylvania back to Chicago to visit family. A few years ago I attended a conference in Louisville, KY, and every day I went for a run across the bridge and into Indiana. All I saw there was the Colgate headquarters building. More recently I took a trip to Bloomington for a conference, and finally I got a chance to see where one of my favorite movies--Breaking Away--was filmed. I toured Indiana University and saw the track where the climactic bike race took place. I also went to Nashville, Ind., a little town of shops and galleries.
Iowa One of my earliest memories is from my first visit to Iowa. We went to Clinton, Iowa, for some work-related event my dad was attending. We stayed at a hotel with a pool. I was about 3 or 4, and my brother and sister were babies in their play pen. Somehow, by playing with the lock on our room door, I managed to lock my mom, dad and I out, while my brother and sister were locked in the room. I remember looking through a window and seeing them standing there in their crib, looking out at us with mild curiosity. My parents had to get the hotel manager to open the door. During this time, to unload me, they handed me over to a nice man who held my hand and walked with me around the pool. A few years later I learned that he had died. That was the first time I had ever met someone who died. About 30 years later I returned to Iowa on a business trip. I was invited to give a talk in Des Moines. My hosts drove me all over the town and out into the country to visit various print shops. It was an enjoyable, though uneventful visit. I attended a conference in Kansas City, Mo., one autumn. I knew that the Kansas border was somewhere nearby but I wasn't sure how far. One afternoon, when I had a few free hours, I decided to just start walking west. I picked a street and walked. And walked. I was getting hot and the street was crappy and torn-up, leading me to believe I was strolling through some questionable neighborhoods, but I was determined to make it to Kansas. I couldn't be this close to it and not set foot in it. After perhaps a mile of plodding, I reached State Line Rd. and stepped across it into Kansas. I walked around the block. It looked a lot like Missouri. Then I walked back across the street and out of Kansas. I spent perhaps 10 minutes in the state, making this my shortest visit to any state.
My first visit was in 1971 when my family drove through Kentucky en route to Florida. We stayed in a hotel there. I remember befriending some girl about my age and playing some game that consisted of falling into the pool while pretending to be a tea pot. I returned in 1998 for a conference in Louisville. Man, what a dead town. I stayed downtown, near the river. Walked around, but there wasn't much to see, save the huge baseball bat by the Louisville Slugger Museum. We did go to a kind of artsy area where I bought a CD and had a beer, but most of the town is dead. My one bit of excitement was going for a run across the bridge every day into Indiana. Oh, and I met that same girl by the pool again and pretended to be a tea pot. I visited New Orleans in 1987 on my very first business trip. It blew me away. We worked hard all day recording seminars at the American College of Physicians’ conference, and then I stayed up all night on Bourbon Street, watching jazz bands and taking in the scene. I was dead tired every morning, but I stayed out every night anyway. One humorous thing happened when I was having lunch in a mall near the convention center. I was on a balcony, looking out at the Mississippi, when I happened to glance down and notice an old guy wandering around on the loading dock. He yelled up to me: “How do you get back up?” I had no idea and I told him so. I also had no time for this fool, so I moved on. After eating, I started to return to the convention center, but then thought I might be able to find a shortcut. So I went down a set of fire stairs and out a door, imagining I would be near the convention center. Instead, I was standing on the loading dock. Slam! The door locked behind me. I looked over and saw the old man I had noticed earlier. Now I was trapped down here with him. The poor guy thought I had come down to rescue him. But I was as clueless as he about how to get out. Next thing I knew I was the one yelling up at the people on the balcony: “How do you get back up?” Fortunately they weren’t as rude as me, and I managed to get someone to come down and let us out. Since then I was there twice more, in September 2001 and April 2002. Both times I stayed in Baton Rouge and visited New Orleans. Maine | Maryland | Massachusetts | Michigan | Minnesota | Mississippi | Missouri | Montana | Nebraska | Nevada | New Hampshire | New Jersey | New Mexico | New York | North Carolina | North Dakota | Ohio | Oregon | Pennsylvania | Rhode Island | South Carolina | South Dakota | Tennessee | Texas | Utah | Vermont | Virginia | Washington | West Virginia | Wisconsin | Wyoming
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On
October 22, 2005, I drove across the Mississippi River and
entered Arkansas at long last. It was a momentous occasion
for me because it meant that I had now visited all 50
states. 
off the road
by almost every driver who passed me one rainy day. I
wandered alone around deserted downtown Miami one night,
attracting the eye of countless thugs and loiterers, but
miraculously avoiding a justly deserved mugging.