(Shared from my photography website blog)
“Drive your Chevrolet through the USA
America’s the greatest land of all
On a highway, or a road along the levee
Performance is sweeter
Nothing can beat her
Life is completer in a Chevy
So make a date today to see the USA
And see it in your Chevrolet” – Dinah Shore “See The U.S.A. in Your Chevrolet” (1953).
The irony I find for myself is that whenever my ancestors made epic trips across multiple states, far as I know, they never did it in Chevrolets. I’ve mentioned previously Oldsmobiles being prominent in travels for my father’s family. My maternal great grandmother made her westward ‘Great Migration’ trek to California in a 1950 Pontiac Catalina. When I did some work-related road tripping through Georgia and Alabama in pre-COVID January 2020, I did all of the driving required in a Chrysler Town & Country with 6 other Food and Farm Justice advocates.
When I was a kid, my dad would sometimes warble off the jingle above. Chevrolet fought constantly with Ford for the #1 spot in the 1950s. It was pretty much an ear worm that dominated his life with introductions of new Chevrolets on a yearly basis when he was a Kindergartener ‘til his middle school years. That battle of the titans was often to the detriment to independent car brands. The 1953 jingle above, attached to Dinah Shore’s then TV show, helped push Chevrolet to #1; 1.35 million cars and trucks produced and sold, in 1953.
I can go into some of the underhanded sales tactics including some ridiculous credit options that led to defaulted car loans and a huge swath of repossessions by early 1956. Chevrolet became “U.S.A #1” for decades based on this sing-songy ode to travel and consumerism. This is the melody that helped General Motors become the greatest corporate overlord of the 20th mid-century. My how the mighty fall. I’ll someday talk about how this #1 performance helped kill the last of the independents like Studebaker, Packard, Kaiser and Willys while helping Nash and Hudson rebirth themselves as American Motors around Ramblers by 1958. Those are long winded stories for another time. I have things to handle and while doing storytelling that is still being written.
I’ve decided to do this move to Philadelphia by:
1) shipping what I have in my apartment that I want to use as skeleton items to set up house somewhere in Northwest Philadelphia…
and 2) driving Gracie, the 1965 Corvair, cross country.
After quite a few conversations, I’m planning to take the more northern route thru Nevada, then zig-zagging U.S Highways of the 2 lane variety over the hustle of the Interstate Highways for some the lower elevation climbs of the Continental Divide of the Rockies to land somewhere in the Great Plains. Then I’ll blast through Oklahoma before slowing the tempo down again in Detroit, perhaps ambling through Columbus and Pittsburgh before arriving in Philadelphia.
I plan to give myself up to two weeks. While departure date isn’t exactly clear yet, it would be end of July to early August, arriving in Philadelphia around August 15th or so. Some are still saying perhaps I can score a co-pilot. I’ll clearly state to those this that might have the hope or idea of tagging along that there’s, depending on how I (and you) pack, room for 1-2 more people. There’s room in the Frunk for two carry on sized suitcases along with the spare tire if I don’t relocate it to its official perch in the engine bay. I (and seemingly most Corvair owners) find it dubious to put a tire right next to a flaming hot air-cooled Flat Six (and having to remove said tire just in case you foul a spark plug or something on the go).
If I do that, there’s room for 2 suitcases, repair kits, oil/gas cans and maybe a soft duffle bag. Most Corvairs also have a fold down rear seat, so additional gear, like camping gear, can fit in the parcel shelf and folded down back seat if necessary. If this ends up being two folks tagging along; fair warning that the back seat does not have all that much in the way of thigh support, and headroom does become a little of a dear commodity in the back seat if you stretch over 6 feet tall. As I’ve said elsewhere, no worries about chipping in on gas and lodging.
Granted, I’ll be more in the vein of motels under $100 a night or in some cases and spaces, and trying to keep snacks in the car and food costs under $60 a day. I’m willing to pay for your flight in or out of the Bay Area or Philadelphia, depending on where you’re coming from. Decidedly this is for people I already really know (not randos) and bonus points if we’ve spent extensive in person time together.
People may wonder why in the hell am I detailing these plans so openly. Here’s why:
- The fascism of this moment. It’s just better that more people know what I’m planning to do. Giving context and scope of where I’ll be for eyes either concerned, curious, etc, will lend at least a surface level of safety because of those elements. I’ll probably still use social media channels as an update, inclusive of this substack, probably more in a ‘note’ fashion than writing long form unless, of course, the inspiration is sparked to do so. I’ll also perhaps create a group text thread for those more concerned about day-to-day progress.
- I’m honestly gonna make it my biggest art project I’ve ever done. I’m going to clearly document it via Kodak film, then do the most massive film dump at Indie Photo Lab in Fishtown I’ve ever done in my life. It’s going to help to get some more interest in what I’m doing for not only the safety factor above, but to most completely plan for ideas and suggestions others may have for the trip. this spans whether that’s packing advice or suggested maintenance and supplies to keep in car for that extended period of time. Since I’m also giving myself ample time, I literally get to live out that corporate jingle as kind of a prayer.
I am not bothering with retracing Route 66 in any extensive fashion, other than perhaps the small segment I’ll overlap in Missouri going into the upper midwest, for its 100th birthday.
It does seem a little tourist trappy to do so. I will be doing A LOT of photography on the way, however. I’m probably thinking for each day on the road, I’ll shoot 1-2 rolls of KodaColor 200 and/or Ultramax 400. I’m no Portra girlie. I’m no Leica bro. I’ll be sticking with my trusty Pentax and the cheaper of film stocks. It’s the same sentiment that underlies going in a Chevrolet from the mid century is good enough for me as well. There’s some of you that realize I’m an aged, reformed crusty old W123/124 Benz owning snob of a hipster. Maturity brings out your better traits, hopefully.
That said, using my nearly 20 years of non-profit experience, there’s a certain component of fundraising I’m doing. I am luckily to be doing this move with some financial security. While I’m stabilizing income streams I can do in Philadelphia in this raucous economic moment, there’s some things I can do to set myself up for having a little bit more to work with. Namely a print sale.
First and most obvious would be selling the prints I have scattered through my apartment of my work. Samples of what is up for sale are represented by crappy iPhone photography below. Pieces 8×10 and under are going to be $75. Any size above that will be $25 additional for each size category above. Delivery or pick up in the 9 county Bay Area will be free and scheduled before departing around approximately July 24th. Any shipped pieces will be shipped with an additional shipping fee of $15. I will possibly also have a sidewalk sale in Fruitvale at my apartment Friday, July 3rd or Friday July 10th, 2026 from 4pm – 8pm that will have some pie and pound cake as I wind down what’s in my pantry.
Works available now below:
Also, if there’s anything that you see in particular on Flickr that you may like, please feel free to hit me up and we can work out something for an ordered print that can be sent to you. Will I have a formalized ‘goodbye’ party? Yes. It’ll most likely be an afternoon of cocktails and perhaps pizza delivered to Cask Taproom closer to the July 24thish departure date. Details forthcoming,
It’s exhilarating to be at the stage of “well, here goes… something.”
There’s something that seems delightfully ritualistic about this big big change of my life. To a degree, I get to give a hat tip to a few things:
- The romanticism of the great American Roadtrip. At the very same times, dealing with the realities of the land we live on; warts, oppressive realities and all.
- There’s more than a hat tip to The Negro Motorist Green Book. The last edition was published 60 years ago in 1966. It might be time to start writing new ones. There’s some safety I’ve had baked in traveling in some seriously right wing parts of California doing so in a 60+ year old Chevrolet, even if it’s perhaps the queerest American car of all time. I wonder how that’ll play out elsewhere.
- There’s an ode to putting one’s authentic self on the line. From that precarious perch of vulnerability you see who supports you and who you really shouldn’t be fucking with. I’ve always been a bit too biased in this direction in my life. I’ll be honest, it’s saved my life more often than hiding the truth about who I am.
I’m Black and openly, visibly Queer even if I’m ever so slightly ‘masculine’ presenting. I am doing this trip with a non-binary “X” on my drivers license in a car as old as the last official published Green Book. I plan to arrive in Philadelphia around the same time “You Can’t Hurry Love” by The Supremes peaked on the Billboard charts 60 years ago. I’m not playing it safe. But as Mel told me last October, life isn’t safe.
I can prepare as much as I can within the limits life imposes on me right now. And, well, am I astrologically at ‘mid-life crisis?’ Yes. Given the risk of this trip, I know there are some people watching with held tongues. Trust me, if you got anything to say to me, now is not the time to peacefully hold your thoughts and feelings. Be prepared for whatever response you may receive as well. Do I have to be a poster child for what you take with you from your old life as you try to start a new one? Apparently so.
I’m weirdly blessed to potentially be able to document and share a narrative of possibility of what we all could be doing differently. What if we assessed what we have, recognize our limits and boundaries, but still questioned and developed curiosity about what is still possible despite the circumstances we find ourselves in? It’s long been time and time again that I’ve known, and I’ve clearly documented all the reasons why I should leave the Bay Area. I understand there’s a sense of internal joy growing around the possibility of giving life a fresh start somewhere fresh where I have some sense of community.
This is all happening despite the world around us. I felt a lot of lingering guilt for wanting to do it ‘this’ way and end up ‘where I feel at home’ or where I’ve been made to feel most ‘at home’ with people I choose to surround myself with. I get that may come as a slight to some others that love me that may think I see their lives aren’t good enough for me to consider sticking around to live in proximity to them. I’m just petty enough to acknowledge that is at least partially true. It has also been a process of refining and focusing on self in the last year, if not the last 3, if not all of my adult life.
So here it goes.
65-70 miles per hour at a time, 6 hours on the road or 300 to 400 miles a day, whichever comes first, day by day, ‘til I’m in Philadelphia.
Wish me luck, preferably.
Dynamic Drive 