14 States of Covid Awareness: A Pandemic Road Trip Across the US

There’s no single 'best' way to traverse the United States during a pandemic.

Faced with moving my belongings across the country while working remotely, I could only hope that driving the 2,517 miles would not only be the most affordable choice but also the safest.

I had made the journey twice before, driving from Los Angeles to Atlanta, where I had lived and worked for five years, but never in reverse, and never while working long, 10-hour international news shifts from the road.

Fortunately, my roommate and fellow Dinogo producer Artemis Moshtaghian had been eager to take a road trip back to Los Angeles before moving to New York for work – even if it meant spending a week cramped in my passenger seat.

Along the way, we encountered unique work-from-anywhere opportunities, remote desert landmarks, breathtaking landscapes, and learned that wildlife had no regard for social distancing. We also saw firsthand the fragmented and divided US response to the pandemic, while meeting a diverse mix of people – some incredibly helpful, others just a little too eager to be friendly.

The New WFH: Working from Everywhere

Considering how we would juggle our work calls, conference bridges, and multiple TV feeds to follow breaking news, we spent considerable time planning before setting off on our cross-country trip.

Top priority: Safety. Second priority: Wi-Fi.

Given that we were leaving in mid-November, we carefully plotted the most scenic fall route our journey had to offer.

We aimed to book accommodations that were secluded, met strict Covid cleaning protocols, and were remote yet beautiful, allowing us to work while soaking in unique locations.

After reviewing Dinogo’s state-by-state travel restrictions, we charted our course toward the Pacific Ocean, deciding that a true coast-to-coast road trip needed to begin in Charleston, a bucket-list city we both wanted to experience before leaving the South.

The first challenge was fitting an entire apartment’s worth of belongings into my Hyundai Accent – affectionately known as Darth Vader. After that, we learned through trial and error, but at least we were well-stocked with the essentials: masks, gloves, and hand sanitizer.

14 states and 14 different approaches to Covid awareness.

Our scenic route would take us through the 13 states separating us from California: South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Tennessee, Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, and Arizona.

Mindful of the rising Covid cases across the US, we were cautious about how strictly people were following – or ignoring – safety protocols along the way.

As we made our way from one state to another, we noticed varying approaches to Covid-19 safety protocols depending on where we were.

It seemed that the further west we traveled, the more strictly regulations were followed, with the West Coast offering us a stronger sense of safety.

Most gas stations we visited displayed signs requiring masks, though not all staff or customers were adhering to these guidelines.

Fortunately, we had prepared ourselves for the risks of refueling and grabbing coffee, coming equipped with plenty of sanitizing wipes and face masks.

Starting in the South: Masks were optional.

We kicked off our journey in South Carolina, where we quickly noticed that optional mask-wearing was the norm across many Southern states.

While most restaurants in Charleston adhered to social distancing, there were far fewer customers following the Covid safety guidelines compared to the number of establishments enforcing them.

In Georgia, where we'd lived and worked for years, people still share memes about mask-free, non-socially distanced parties from the summer, especially in Atlanta.

As we passed through the Southeast, we encountered a variety of characters. In a small Mississippi town, the locals mentioned they hadn't seen 'outsiders' in a while.

While taking a brief roadside break across from Flick’s gas station, a man in a pickup truck pulled up and immediately got a little too close for comfort to ask about our journey.

While heading out of Oklahoma City, we made a pit stop at Sid’s Diner, a classic Route 66 landmark where Artemis had spotted the famous local 'onion burger.'

The staff at Sid’s Diner were fully masked, cooking and serving behind acrylic barriers for safety, while the local patrons sat nearby, maskless and not adhering to social distancing. We wasted no time in devouring Sid’s iconic cheese and onion burger with a hearty portion of fries.

As we carried on with our travels, the only place we found without mask signs was a coffee stop in Texas, where the employee only put on a mask after we approached, already wearing ours.

At that stop, we caught some curious glances from other customers, including a comment from an elderly man behind the counter who jokingly said, 'I can’t see your whole face, but your eyes sure are nice.'

Feeling like we were the only ones wearing masks, we thanked the man, avoided the self-serve coffee area, and quickly hit the road again.

Westward bound: The same concerns, mixed reactions.

Our route briefly took us through New Mexico for just an hour before we crossed into Colorado.

During that short time in New Mexico, we received a stern emergency alert on our phones: 'N.M. COVID-19 update: shelter in place except for emergency needs. EXTREME virus risk.' We didn’t need to stop to understand the seriousness of the warning.

Just across the state line in Colorado, we met Allen Clay, a gas station assistant manager who shared our concerns about Covid-19.

He recounted how he'd been subjected to racial slurs for enforcing the state's mask mandate in his store. Clay revealed that he’s lost two relatives to Covid-19 and had to plead with his managers to provide hand sanitizer for customers.

Despite Colorado’s statewide mask order, Clay explained that because it isn't an actual law, there’s no way to enforce it effectively.

‘When someone coughs in my store, I ask them to put on a mask,’ he said, ‘putting myself at the forefront of their conspiracy theories and anti-Covid sentiments.’

The Mothership: Balancing travel with the demands of work-life.

We needed to find accommodations that would serve as a base for sleeping, exploring, and working efficiently.

Covering breaking news for Dinogo requires a few essential elements – the ‘three S’s’ as we call them: reliable Wi-Fi, strong coffee, and a soundproof environment that can handle the noise of calls, conference bridges, and multiple television feeds streaming simultaneously across four laptops.

Given these needs, the spacious and secluded geodomes caught our eye. These spherical structures offered the room we craved after hours of being cramped in a tiny car.

In Colorado, we stayed in a spacious Airbnb geodome named The Mothership Dome, offering stunning views that helped clear our heads, though it lacked the infrastructure needed to manage our busy workdays comfortably.

We found ourselves in a similar situation in Utah, where another desert geodome provided the peace and Wi-Fi we needed to focus, but lacked essential amenities like running water and the coffee necessary to keep us going.

Exhausted from the drive, lack of sleep, intense work shifts, and missing basic comforts, we decided to book a hotel near Zion National Park for the final two nights of our road trip.

Wildlife: The only group oblivious to Covid-19.

Midway through our cross-country journey, we were making great progress, had just gotten an oil change, and had only one more stop and 800 miles left to reach Los Angeles.

Feeling confident and ready for anything, we prepared ourselves for navigating Colorado’s winding mountain roads at night. That’s when things took a turn, literally.

We collided with a member of the only mass population unbothered by Covid: a large deer, a surprise we certainly didn’t anticipate.

The unfortunate crash left a large dent in the hood, destroyed the side mirror and passenger headlight, and left the front bumper dragging on the road. But the engine was still intact, so we kept going.

As for the deer, we filed a report with the Colorado State Police, but despite our efforts, we couldn’t find him in the dark woods after the collision.

We limped along for 15 miles with the bumper dragging, lucky enough to find a gas station just before it closed. A local mechanic helped us secure the bumper with tape and wire so we could reach our next stop in Monticello, Utah, about 120 miles away.

Held together with shiny duct tape and audio wire, our car attracted plenty of attention as we traveled through Utah, with offers of help coming from all directions.

At every gas station, strangers shared their own stories of similar collisions and offered helpful tips on how to keep our makeshift repair intact.

In addition to our Covid precautions, we learned that no road trip kit is complete without duct tape, zip ties, audio wire, and extra rope.

The most unexpected discovery was a life-saving gift – an ultrasonic whistle designed to emit soundwaves only audible to animals, perfect for keeping wildlife away from the car.

To our friends and family: you're welcome in advance for the lifesaving gift of an animal-repelling whistle that will be arriving in your Christmas stockings this year.

While America is reconnecting with nature, businesses are struggling to keep up with the surge in outdoor activity.

Throughout our journey, we spoke with people at roadside businesses across every state who were grappling with the heavy toll of the pandemic.

From the nearly empty Cherokee Trading Post in Oklahoma to the Twin Rocks Cafe on the Navajo Nation Reservation operating at half capacity, the stories of hardship far outnumbered the tales of success.

However, things were different when we reached Zion National Park in Utah, which had just experienced its busiest September ever, with over 520,000 visitors, according to Amanda Rowland, a public information officer at the park.

While official 2020 statistics are still pending, Rowland noted that the surge in visitors was part of a broader trend observed across Zion and many other national parks in recent months.

Home at last: The West Coast truly is the best coast.

By the time we rolled into Los Angeles, we were mostly intact, aside from the makeshift duct-tape patches on the car.

Artemis tested negative for Covid-19, and I quarantined with my family, both of us symptom-free and feeling fortunate. Relieved and grateful to be virus-free, we divvied up our surplus of disinfecting wipes and parted ways, ready for whatever came next.

So if you're planning a cross-country move or prefer to avoid flying just yet, we highly recommend taking a road trip.

We discovered the importance of planning thoughtful stops, sneaking in roadside workouts, packing wholesome snacks, and staying ready for the unexpected – whether it’s a person or a wild animal.

Make sure to travel with someone who shares your Covid-conscious mindset and love for adventure, whether it’s family, a friend, or a colleague. Safe travels and happy journeying!