It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw.
I've come to look for America.
Simon and Garfunkel, "America"

Over the last two weeks, I spent 5 1/2 days driving and 6 1/2 days not. To put it another way, my family spent 57 hours in our car driving from Takoma Park (inside the Beltway) to Kansas City, Marquette, Mich., Detroit and back again. In total, 3351 miles driven across America. We drove in a Sentra, and we filled the gas tank 9 times. We averaged about 10 gallons per fill-up, so that's about 90 gallons of gas. At an average price of $2.65 per gallon, that means we traversed a good portion of our country for about $240, plus snacks.

We saw a wolf in West Virginia (or maybe Pennsylvania; we can't remember exactly). I think it was a red wolf, but my wife has actually researched this and believes it was a grey wolf. She's probably right, but in either case it was a real wolf. An American wolf, trotting out toward I-79.

When I was seven, my folks drove us from Lawrence, Kan., to Rochester, N.Y. (my birthplace) to Orlando and back again. My brothers and I still refer to that trip as "the family vacation." We never did anything quite like that again.

Except when I was fifteen, when we drove from Clovis, N.M. to San Diego to San Francisco and back again. Somehow, we skipped the Grand Canyon coming and going (oops!), but otherwise it was a pretty interesting trip. I saw many parts of the country that most folks never have.

In my life, I've lived in the United States. Otherwise, I've been to Tijuana, and I've been to the south of England. That's it. I haven't even been to Canada. Where I live inside the Beltway, my lack of foreign experience is notable. Most of the neighbors have lived outside the country, if they weren't born outside the country in the first place.

But I have lived in parts of the country that scare the hell out of my neighbors. My six years in Kansas are always good for a "really?" from folks, and the barest mention of my five years in New Mexico makes me popular at local get-togethers.

Still, I like to think that my year in Battle Creek, Mich., and that year-and-a-half in York, Pa., are equally useful. Folks of all political stripes in D.C. seem to have no notion of what "regular" folks are like. I don't either, really, but at least I've been around a few and don't freak out when "regular" ideas are expressed.

Max and Sam had never been to Illinois. I'd never been to Wisconsin, and none of us had ever ventured to the Upper Peninsula. It's cool exploring unknown territory. You get a real sense of the immensity of America when you drive it. It's hard to deny the almost impossible vastness of our nation. My family drove almost halfway across the country, and it took two full days. The Pacific Ocean was still another three days away.

The notion that all Americans are the same--or that they should be the same--is obliterated by a cross-country drive. At a Love's truck stop in Illinois, they were playing the XM/Sirius Michael Jackson tribute channel. At a Love's in Wisconsin, they were playing some kind of country music. At a filling station in Marquette, I had to punch a "Canadian funds" or "American funds" button before I pumped.

I've never seen the Flint Hills of Kansas so green as I did when I drove to Manhattan, Kan., to see my Grandma. I've never experienced as beautiful a summer day as the July 4th in Marquette, which was sunny, 75 and not humid at all. That statement remained true for four whole days, when I got back to my home inside the Beltway and pushed all the windows open for almost a week while the temperatures stayed below 80 and the humidity hid somewhere else. We brought UP weather back to DC for a spell, and it was damned nice.

Times change. People change. Hell, even the land changes. But America has always been a beautiful country. Moving around this country as I have has provided me with experiences that are quite similar to those of my friends who have lived outside our borders. I've experienced people whose ideas and lives are utterly foreign to me. And it's cool.

We're not Americans because we come from the same ethnic stock. We're not Americans because we share the same faith. We've not Americans because we believe in the same things.

We're Americans because we believe that all of us make America greater. There are dissenters to this notion, of course. That's what makes America so great. Everyone dissents now and again (or more often, perhaps). But we're all Americans, and this is our country. And if you don't believe me, get out on the road, burn some dinosaur juice and explore someplace you've never been. I guarantee you'll find a few more reasons to love America.

Jon Worley saw four of the five Great Lakes on his journey. He took a few steps in Lake Superior, which didn't feel all that cold, though he didn't dive in like his kids did.