A 3,200-mile odyssey: Chasing the untamed beauty of the American West
From whale watching in California to hiking beneath Utah's towering red cliffs, every mile of this road trip brought a new adventure
There is always more to see. After a sweeping April tour of Arizona—taking in the breathtaking sights of Horseshoe Bend, Lake Powell and Antelope Canyon—I couldn't shake the feeling that my American adventure had only just begun.
The United States is so vast that even a lifetime might not be enough to uncover all its secrets. I made a promise to myself: the next trip would be dedicated to the rugged landscapes of Utah and Nevada.
My original plan was to land in New York, meet up with my friend Minhaj, and embark on a five-day cross-country drive to California. However, plans changed as Minhaj was in Bangladesh at the time. Instead, I teamed up with my younger brother, Aditya, to explore the stunning coastline around Los Angeles.
The Californian coastline
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We began our journey at Pyramid Lake, one of LA's main freshwater sources. The striking blue water, framed by rugged hills, was utterly mesmerising. The next day, along with our photographer friend Ripon, we headed to Malibu Beach, spending almost the entire day soaking up the views of the Pacific. Torrance Beach and a lively night in Santa Monica followed. Each coastal destination had its own distinct charm.
Craving a longer adventure, Aditya meticulously mapped out a five-day road trip. We rented an SUV, packed our bags and hit the road. After a brief 45-minute detour to retrieve a forgotten camera, we officially set off on what would become a massive cross-state journey.
Driving in the US is an experience in itself. The endless eight- to twelve-lane highways, flanked by majestic mountains, orchards and flower gardens, are simply spectacular. I found myself filming so much that my 512GB storage filled up far sooner than expected.
The golden city
Our drive brought us to San Francisco, where we arrived at the iconic Golden Gate Bridge by nightfall. The bridge—gracefully spanning the strait—looked exactly like the cinematic marvel I had grown up watching in Hollywood films. Not content with a distant view, Aditya drove us higher up a hillside. Surrounded by tourists from all over the world, we sat perfectly positioned to admire the magnificent illuminated bridge.
We returned the following morning, only to find it completely shrouded in fog.
Driven by curiosity, we slipped past a few fences to get closer to the water. The fierce winds and the sheer drop to the ocean below were intimidating, but the thrill of standing so close to a structure completed in 1937—and now crossed by more than 112,000 vehicles each day—was irresistible.
Standing on the hill, looking down at the famous Painted Ladies—six beautifully preserved Victorian houses set against the modern city skyline—felt like stepping into a postcard
While wandering beneath the bridge, I decided to explore a nearby cemetery alone. Walking among thousands of silent gravestones with the Golden Gate Bridge looming in the background sent a sudden horror-film-like chill down my spine. I quickly called Aditya, who drove down to rescue me.
Our time in San Francisco also included a stop at the bustling Pier 39. After booking tickets, we headed out onto the water, where we were treated to the unforgettable sight of whales breaching the ocean's surface.
We ended our stay with a twilight visit to Alamo Square. Standing on the hill, looking down at the famous Painted Ladies—six beautifully preserved Victorian houses set against the modern city skyline—felt like stepping into a postcard.
Alpine lakes and coastal cliffs
The next chapter of our journey took us to Lake Tahoe, the second-deepest lake in the US, straddling the California–Nevada border at an elevation of 6,500 feet. The crystal-clear, icy water, surrounded by lush forests and snow-capped peaks, felt like stepping into another world.
During our 116-mile drive around the lake, I suffered a brief moment of panic when I realised I had left my camera at a previous stop, half an hour away. Racing back with my heart pounding, I was immensely relieved to find a kind Indian family waiting with it for my return.
From the alpine serenity of Tahoe, we drove to Big Sur. Highway 1 is a 90-mile stretch of driving paradise. We rolled down the windows, letting the roar of the ocean and the coastal breeze fill the car as we crossed the towering Bixby Creek Bridge.
Not all detours were planned. A trip to Yosemite National Park with Ripon was cut short when our car broke down in a remote rural area. When the mechanic quoted a repair bill higher than the car's actual value, we sold it to a scrapyard, rented another vehicle and headed back to LA—a chaotic but memorable misadventure.
Into the desert: The real journey begins
By the time Minhaj returned from Maryland, my brother Sezan had also arrived from Arizona, treating us to more beach-hopping, whale watching and a beautiful hike through the Angeles National Forest. But with Minhaj's arrival in a brand-new Genesis with zero mileage, our "real" road trip finally began.
Our first major stop was Death Valley National Park. Known as the hottest place on Earth, it greeted us with a drive past countless wind turbines and vast solar farms. We reached Zabriskie Point just in time for sunset.
The multi-coloured, undulating layers of rock glowing in the fading light were a soul-soothing sight. Although our sedan prevented us from visiting the mysterious Sailing Stones, the beauty of the valley was undeniable.
The red canyons of Utah
Leaving California behind, we crossed into Utah, arriving at Zion National Park beneath a canopy of stars. Thanks to a national park strike, there were no staff on duty and no entrance fees. We woke early and hiked three miles into the canyon. Reaching the top, we were met with a sweeping view of the towering red cliffs—nothing short of breathtaking.
Next came Bryce Canyon, famous for its millions of fiery red rock spires, known as hoodoos. Though smaller than the cliffs of Zion, the vivid crimson rocks—especially when dusted with winter snow—are visually striking.
But it was Moab, home to Arches National Park, that truly felt extraterrestrial.
The landscape was desolate, ancient and breathtaking. Without proper gear, and armed with just a single bottle of water, we embarked on a demanding six-mile trek to see the famous arches. Exhausted and parched, we finally reached the massive arch, and it felt almost spiritual. Looking at a structure sculpted by nature over millions of years forces you to reflect on the Earth's quiet, immense power. I found myself silently thanking God for the privilege of witnessing such beauty.
Guided by a wish list I had built through social media, we also explored Potash Road. Flanked by a river on one side and towering red cliffs on the other, we watched thrill-seekers attempt to scale the sheer rock faces—a testament to human curiosity and the pursuit of adrenaline.
Chasing summits
As night fell in Arches, the isolation became unsettling. With no mobile signal, surrounded by dark bushes that could easily conceal rattlesnakes—or whatever was making the eerie howling sounds in the distance—I hurried back to the safety of our car.
Our route back took us towards Las Vegas. Arriving late amid the city's dazzling neon lights, we struggled to find accommodation. Rather than spending the following day in the city, we made a spontaneous, sleep-deprived decision to chase the highest peak in the contiguous United States: Mount Whitney in California.
After a comical navigational mistake that led us to Father Crowley Viewpoint instead, we decided to stay and watch the sunset. The view was extraordinary, with the vast valley stretching into the distance and the surrounding mountains displaying magnificent layers of colour.
Eventually, we drove another three hours to reach the base of Mount Whitney under the cover of darkness. It was freezing, desolate and incredibly intimidating, but standing there at the end of our journey felt like a triumph.
After covering exactly 3,209 miles across California, Utah and Nevada, our road trip came to an end. But looking back, I know I haven't escaped the pull of the American West. The vibrant red mountains and endless highways are already calling me back.
Next stop: New Mexico.
