Wherever You Go, There You Are
A buddy suggested, in the summer of 1997, that we drive from Los Angeles to New York and see the country. I had just turned 25, so I could legally rent a car. We figured we could do it in one week, with about six hours of driving a day—although once we left Boulder, Colorado, we decided to plow through all of Kansas to Hannibal, Missouri, stopping only for gas, beef jerky, and bio breaks. As we drove out of L.A. and into the desert, I pulled out a toy borrowed from the office: a portable GPS system. “Portable” may be too strong a word for my make-shift global positioning system. It was a brand-new version of Microsoft Streets and Atlas 1998, a six-pound Dell laptop, and a serial-port-based GPS device,…