The morning I left Duluth had a wonderfully different character from some of the more hectic days earlier in my trip. I woke up at Zenith Basecamp, had a genuinely good cup of coffee, took a long, hot shower and—most importantly—didn’t immediately jump into the truck. I gave myself a slow morning. That may sound like a small thing, but on a 160-day road trip, those quiet mornings become part of the adventure. I had been moving steadily across the country, and now the direction was unmistakable: west.
The coffee, shower and unhurried start were almost a little ritual of resetting myself before another long day behind the wheel.
The journey to Itasca
After leaving Duluth, I settled into the truck for the three-plus-hour drive toward north-central Minnesota and Itasca State Park. And Itasca was an especially appropriate destination for this particular road trip. Established in 1891, Itasca is Minnesota’s oldest state park and encompasses more than 32,000 acres of lakes, forests and trails. More importantly, it is where the Mississippi River begins its 2,552-mile journey toward the Gulf of Mexico. After all the miles I had already driven, there was something wonderfully appropriate about stopping at the beginning of one of America’s greatest journeys.
Standing at the beginning of the Mississippi
At Lake Itasca, the Mississippi is almost comically modest compared with the river we know farther south. The Minnesota DNR describes the infant Mississippi here as roughly 18 feet wide and knee-deep. You can literally walk across it. I did. That’s one of those experiences that photographs don’t quite capture.
I was standing there thinking about the Mississippi as the enormous river associated with Memphis, St. Louis, New Orleans and the Gulf—and then you look down and realize:
This is it. This little stream is that river.
The water leaving Lake Itasca will eventually travel thousands of miles southward. It was a particularly fitting experience for my expedition because my own journey was also about seeing America from its origins outward rather than simply racing from destination to destination.
Then came the fire tower
I didn’t simply stop at the headwaters, take a photograph and get back in the truck.
I went exploring. One of the memorable adventures was climbing the Aiton Heights Fire Tower, a 100-foot tower that provides a panoramic view over the Lake Itasca watershed. The Minnesota DNR specifically identifies the tower as one of the park’s signature experiences. That climb changed the perspective completely. At ground level, Itasca is a collection of trees, trails, lakes and winding roads. From the top of the tower, the landscape opens up and you can appreciate the enormous North Woods surrounding the headwaters.
And there is a bit of history attached to those towers, too. Fire towers were not merely recreational attractions; they played an important role in detecting forest fires and understanding the landscape.
So my afternoon at Itasca turned into a miniature Minnesota expedition:
coffee → long drive → ancient forest → headwaters → walking across the Mississippi → fire tower → panoramic North Woods.
Not a bad morning / afternoon.
And then… White Earth
By late afternoon, I was back in the truck and heading farther west toward the White Earth Reservation, entering another part of Minnesota that many travelers never see.
This is where the day took on a more improvisational quality. After the relatively civilized morning in Duluth and the highly scenic adventure at Itasca, I suddenly found myself having to figure out food as I went. That is one of the less glamorous—and more authentic—parts of a long road trip. I wasn’t operating from a carefully scheduled vacation itinerary. I was on the road, hungry, several hours from where I started, and figuring out the next move. So I scraped together something to eat and kept exploring.
And then came the wonderfully unexpected destination:
Pinehurst Resort
I ventured over to Pinehurst Resort in Naytahwaush.
The resort sits in a distinctly Northwoods setting between North Twin Lake and South Twin Lake, with lakeside cabins and the relaxed atmosphere of a long-running Minnesota family resort.
It was a classic road-trip discovery—the kind of place you don’t necessarily put on a national itinerary but stumble upon because you’re actually traveling through the landscape rather than simply passing over it.
And that made the White Earth portion of the day feel very different from the morning.
Itasca was a nationally significant natural landmark.
White Earth was more intimate and local.
Pinehurst was the sort of place where you could slow down, look around and think:
“Well, I certainly didn’t have this on my agenda this morning.”
And that’s exactly what makes a long road trip memorable, the day gradually moved away from the familiar and toward the American West that was waiting ahead.
And there is a wonderful bit of symbolism in the route:
I began the day at the headwaters of the Mississippi—America’s great eastward/southward-flowing river—and ended it pointing my truck west. The river was beginning its enormous journey. So was I. That night, sleeping all alone in the deep wilderness on White Earth Reservation on a lake side camping site called “Little Elbow Lake Park” was eerily quiet. Then the park service showed up to cut the lawn. I picked up and headed West. Fargo, ND awaits.