I’m sprawled out on my creaky couch in Denver, the faint smell of last night’s pizza lingering in the air, thinking about how I survived my first solo road trip across the US in 2025. Like, I legit thought I’d be this cool, carefree traveler blasting music and taking Insta-worthy pics, but nah—I was a hot mess. I cried in a Walmart parking lot in Nebraska, got lost in the middle of nowhere Arizona, and somehow made it through. Anyway, a solo road trip across the US is no joke, and I’m here to spill all my chaotic, unfiltered thoughts—mostly so you don’t make the same dumb mistakes I did.
Why I Decided to Do a Solo Road Trip Across the US
So, I’d just turned 30, and I was having a full-on crisis. I’d been scrolling X, seeing all these people doing epic cross-country road trips, and I was like, “I need that.” I’d never driven more than two hours alone, but I figured a solo road trip across the US would be my big glow-up moment. Spoiler: it was more like a glow-down. I started in New York, aiming for LA, with this romantic idea of diners and sunsets. Instead, I got flat tires and existential dread. But, like, I also found some magic in the mess—those quiet moments watching the sunrise in Utah were worth every tear.
The Highs and Lows of My Cross-Country Road Trip
Okay, let’s break down the good, the bad, and the straight-up ugly of my solo travel USA adventure. I learned a ton, mostly through screwing up, but that’s how I roll.
The Highs: Moments I Felt Like a Solo Road Trip Pro
Some parts of driving across America were straight-up magical. Like, in Missouri, I found this tiny diner with the best blueberry pie I’ve ever had—crust so flaky I almost cried. I blasted my playlist through the Smoky Mountains, screaming Taylor Swift at the top of my lungs, feeling like I was in a movie. And the Grand Canyon? I pulled over at like 6 AM, and the sunrise hit me so hard I forgot how to blink. A solo road trip across the US gives you those moments where you feel so alive, you know?
The Lows: When My Solo Road Trip Across the US Fell Apart
But, dude, the lows were LOW. In Nebraska, my GPS died, and I got so lost I ended up in a cornfield, sobbing while eating stale Cheetos. I called my mom, and she was like, “Why are you even doing this?” Good question, Mom. Then, in Arizona, I got a flat tire at 2 AM—had to change it myself with a YouTube tutorial while coyotes howled nearby. Oh, and I accidentally left my wallet at a gas station in Texas and had to drive back 50 miles. Pro tip: always check your stuff before you leave. A cross-country road trip will test you, for real.
Tips I Wish I Knew Before Driving Across America
I made it through my solo adventure, but I learned some hard lessons along the way. Here’s what I’d tell anyone crazy enough to try a solo road trip across the US:
- Pack snacks, but not just junk. I lived off chips for three days and felt like a potato. Bring some fruit or something—your body will thank you.
- Download offline maps. I thought I’d always have service. Nope. I was wrong. Check out Google Maps offline feature for help.
- Budget for emergencies. I spent $200 on that flat tire fix, which was basically my food budget for the week.
- Take breaks. I tried to drive 12 hours straight and almost fell asleep in Oklahoma. Pull over, stretch, nap—don’t be a hero.
- Talk to strangers (safely). I met this old guy at a diner in Kansas who told me about a hidden lake nearby. Best detour ever.
What I’d Do Differently on My Next Solo Road Trip Across the US
Looking back, I’d plan better but not too much—part of the charm of a solo road trip across the US is the chaos, you know? I’d pack a real first-aid kit, not just Band-Aids and expired Advil. I’d also bring a friend—or at least a stuffed animal—to talk to when the loneliness hit. Oh, and I’d double-check my playlist; I got so sick of my own music by day five, I started listening to AM radio conspiracy theories for fun. Check out Roadtrippers for better route planning—they’ve got cool stops I totally missed.
Wrapping Up My Solo Travel USA Chaos
So yeah, my first solo road trip across the US in 2025 was a wild ride—equal parts amazing and awful. I’m still finding chip crumbs in my car, and I think I’ll be untangling the emotional mess for a while, but I’d do it again in a heartbeat. If you’re thinking about driving across America, just do it—but maybe don’t be as dumb as I was. Got any road trip stories? Drop ‘em in the comments—I need to know I’m not the only one who’s cried in a cornfield!
