We spent nine days, crossed ten states, and drove nearly 5,000 kilometers, finally approaching Seattle from the East Coast—the first major milestone of this epic journey.
The landscapes and national parks along the way—Yellowstone, Glacier, Arches—are, of course, matchless in their beauty. In particular, the emerald lakes nestled beneath the massive glaciers will likely remain etched in my memory for the rest of my life.
Yet, what shook my inner soul far more than the scenery was the absolute isolation and desolate grandeur of the Great American Heartland. It is entirely fair to say: unless you have traversed the American Heartland, you have no right to speak of America.
It was out here that I truly came to understand the cultural substrate of this nation: the raw courage to stake everything on a gamble, the radical spirit of adventure, the deep-seated reverence for force, and the uncompromising obsession to control one’s own destiny. And, of course, the blatant, unashamed pursuit of wealth and sudden fortune.
Out here, I also realized why gun control is a non-starter in America. To Americans, firearms do not merely represent freedom; they are a sacred totem. A gun symbolizes a fierce, relentless frontier spirit—one person, one rifle, holding fate squarely in one’s own hands, backed by the absolute grit of a chambered round.
When you live in a place where you are the only human soul for miles around, you too might agree on how much security a rifle brings when it’s just you against the wild. You and your gun become partners, sidekicks, brothers bound together for survival.
When the old Western pioneers set out, their dreams were undoubtedly fueled by visions of overnight riches and making a name for themselves. Yet, most of them perished along the way. Even among the few who finally reached their promised land, the vast majority never found gold or glory.
Ultimately, they made peace with an ordinary life, becoming the loyal guardians of that vast, lonely wilderness.
I have driven through the American Heartland, and I hold a profound, heartfelt admiration for them.
The best scenery is never the destination, but the road itself. How true that is.