Spontaneous Escape

For years, I’ve dreamed of exploring America’s legendary national parks. Yosemite looms large in my mind, but this adventure carves a different path – through the surreal landscapes of Joshua Tree, the sheer cliffs of Zion, the hoodoo-filled amphitheatres of Bryce, and the delicate stone spans of Arches. Vast, untamed, soul-stirring, a journey to push perceptual parameters.

Some trips are meticulously mapped. Others ignite with a reckless click on Qantas’s ‘buy now’ button. This is one of those. With just 36 hours’ notice, my good friend Edan and I book flights from SYD to LAX, pack our gear, and embark on a ten-day, action-packed road trip through some of the most awe-inspiring natural wonders of the American West.

Desert Dreamscapes

Jetlagged but high on adrenaline, we touch down in LA, collect our rental car, and caffeinate at Intelligentsia before heading inland, leaving behind the fog-laced City of Angels. As we drive east, the skyline melts into the horizon, replaced by sweeping highways amid a sea of titanic wind turbines. The June sun climbs relentlessly, its heat somehow energising. Music plays – White Sky Remix on repeat – threaded with nostalgic tunes and cryptic crossword conundrums. A rare calm settles in. Gratitude, distilled.

First stop: Pioneertown, an Old West movie set turned tacky desert outpost. We shake off the road, grab a bite, then press on to Palm Springs, a mirage of mid-century glamour in hazy heat.

Joshua Tree is the main event, but first, a few preludes. At Thousand Palms Oasis, fresh water seeps from the depths of the San Andreas Fault, feeding a lush grove amid the arid expanse. A camouflaged rattlesnake lies coiled, motionless in the afternoon heat. A barren mountain ascent unveils a panorama of the fault itself, a deep scar across the earth. The Palm Springs Aerial Tramway carries us 2.5 miles up the cliffs of Chino Canyon, ascending to 8,516 feet to Mt. San Jacinto State Park, where the desert floor stretches unbroken below. A quick detour to Coachella, its walls adorned with colourful murals, a hint of the festival energy it hosts each year.

Our base camp: The Parker Hotel, stylish and eclectic, where poolside drinks both hydrate and intoxicate and the desert air radiates – thick, dry and intense.

And then, finally, the main course, Joshua Tree.

By day, the park is an alien world of monolithic boulders, spiky yuccas, and winding trails through scorched sand. We climb, scramble, wander, gulping water beneath the unfiltered glare. The colours are sharper, the heat visceral. By night, the desert transforms. The Milky Way spills across the sky, long exposures capture ghostly aircraft streaks slicing through infinite black. Beneath this cosmic expanse, feel the liberation.

Reverence in Zion

From Palm Springs, we turn northeast, breaking up the triple-state drive with a stop at Hoover Dam, an engineering marvel and a welcome chance to stretch the legs. Then onward to Utah’s south-west corner.

We cross vast salt lakes, skirting the edge of the Mojave National Preserve, an expanse of parched earth and quiet desolation. A lone salt mine breaks the emptiness. Nothingness extends in every direction. Eerie. Hypnotic.

We roll into Zion at midnight, check into our all-American, overpriced Airstream, and crack open a celebratory beer before collapsing into sleep. Morning reveals towering sandstone walls, streaked in reds and oranges, shifting hues with the light.

We rent electric bikes, gliding through the canyon in near silence, dwarfed by its immensity. I film clips for my kids, eager to share the beauty of this place – so profoundly powerful – and promise to bring them here one day. Edan, mesmerised, researches and traces the layers of stone, absorbing the eons it took to create and erode them.

After a series of switchbacks and a passage through the mountain’s core, we reach Scout Lookout on the West Rim Trail, an open perch with epic views of Zion Canyon below. Edan and I stand transfixed, absorbing its sheer scale. At this junction the trail splits. Angels Landing is in sight, but we veer left at the fork, leaving crowds behind. A moment of silence. The only sound? The slow rhythmic drip of sweat on sunbaked earth. A pause, a breath. The world quiets. Weight lifts. And then, we turn and follow the trail downward, carrying the moment with us.

After sunset, Zion becomes a canvas of shadows and light. We set up long exposures, painting with head torches against jagged cliffs. Z-I-O-N. Stilled in time. Suspended in light.

Traversing Utah: From Canyons to Arches

From Zion, we drive through a mile-long tunnel cutting through the red rock’s heart, emerging into yet another breathtaking vista, only reachable by foot. Then, onward to Bryce Canyon. The landscape shifts again, countless hoodoos rise like flames from the desert floor. We hike into its depths, golden light sculpting shadows.

The road to Moab is spectacular. At one stage, we cover more than 100 kilometres without another car in sight, just an endless ribbon of tarmac beneath a sky so vividly blue it seems unreal.

In Arches National Park, we venture through a world of gravity-defying formations – colossal slabs, precariously balanced boulders, and sandstone fins sculpted by the patience of time. Short walks lead us to famed arches, each distinct, like Landscape Arch, impossibly thin yet spanning 300 feet. Later, a foray into the surrounding state park, where we push ATVs (and nerves) to the limit on Devil’s Backbone, navigating slickrock trails and fossilised dinosaur prints.

Sin City

No road trip through the West is complete without Vegas.

After days exploring remote wilderness, stepping onto the Strip feels like a crash-landing into another dimension – a jarring descent from serene openness into sensory overload. Neon lights. Lavish banquets. Endless exploits and entertainment. The ceaseless hum of slot machines, shrouded in smoke. Chaotic, excessive, simultaneously grand and grotesque, unique in its own surreal way.

Vegas swallows us whole, then spits us out – dazed, exhilarated. We get lost in labyrinthine hotels, drift through pool parties (more spectators than participants), get swept away at The Sphere’s immersive Postcard from Earth, applaud at The Beatles LOVE by Cirque du Soleil, and indulge in extravagant dining. A final 48-hour spectacle before re-entering reality.

Landing at LAX, transiting to SYD, we steal one last stop at Gjelina – dinner, wine and the salt-laced air of the Pacific.

Afterglow of the Open Road

Ten days. 3,000 kilometres. Wild spaces. No rigid plans. Just an open road, a loose idea, and the freedom to let the story unfold.

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The Odyssey in Photos