10%

Coast to Coast Tire Roast 2021

An epic road trip across America

By Scott Richardson

October 21^st, 2021

Three years ago, my wife told me that she would pack up her tiny sports car and drive to the west coast with a bunch of strangers she met on the internet.

That is essentially the origin story of the Coast to Coast Tire Roast, a once, or twice, in a lifetime road trip experience for Scion FR-S, Subaru BRZ, and Toyota 86 car enthusiasts.

In 2019, she found drivers through Facebook groups, mapped out a route, and drove from Philadelphia to Laguna Seca Raceway in California, down the Pacific Coast Highway, through the southwest, and up the Atlantic Coast to finish the loop. In 17 days, they traveled 7000 miles through 21 states.

She was hooked.

She spent the next two years agonizing over a route that would encompass the best roads and sights that the top of the country could provide: the Dakota badlands, Glacier National Park, the Cascades, Columbia River Gorge, deserts, waterfalls, forests, geysers, and all of the winding roads that connect them.

Below is a collection of memories I captured as I traveled with the group for one week of the two-and-a-half-week journey. While my wife loves cruising America, I'd prefer to choose a small area to camp, hike, and explore. So, I did that and met the group three days into their journey west in Medora, North Dakota.

Dickinson, ND & Theodore Roosevelt National Park

I met the group after a three-day camping trip with no showers, terrible food, and sleep interrupted by the yipping of coyotes. But, they had just driven three days across the mid-west. I think we were all excited to see some new faces.

We met at the southern entrance to Theodore Roosevelt National Park, and after a brief round of introductions, we headed towards the park loop road. We stopped to see prairie dogs yip at the "danger" of strangers staring in their direction and dodged rabbits who dashed across our path.

After a few brief traffic jams caused by bison herds, we headed deep into the buttes of the North Dakota badlands along the Boicourt Overlook trail.

As the sun started to fade, we drove the remainder of the South Unit Loop and took in the sights from a different vista. The novelty of seeing a rainbow of similar model cars, each emblazoned with the Coast to Coast Tire Roast branding, drew a lot of attention our way. At the end of the road, a couple in a pickup truck flagged us down and told us how they had seen the cars and looked up the trip. They were so curious that they watched the previous trip's documentary on Youtube.

We headed out of the park at sunset and backtracked an hour east to an Airbnb in Dickinson, ND. My wife followed me to the tiny Dickinson airport to return my rental car and taxied me back to the Airbnb, where we sleepily ate takeout dinner and quickly got to bed.

Dickinson, ND – Seeley Lake, MT

We woke up before dawn in Dickinson, checked fluids, and broke all Covid protocols to wish Julian and his Dad farewell. Julian traveled with us in 2019 and has since relocated to Germany. Unfortunately, work commitments complicated his travel schedule, and he could only caravan with us for a few days.

After a few hugs, Kirsten explained the day's route. There was no way around it. It was going to be a long day: ten hours and 635 miles through the heart of Montana.

We headed west on the interstate, paralleling the national park for a dozen miles, and almost running into a pronghorn at the top of a hill.

We knew there weren't many places to eat once we left the interstate, so we planned for an early lunch in Roundup, MT. I called several places that ended with a disconnected line or a ring that was never picked up, maybe casualties of the pandemic, or perhaps a typical Tuesday in a small town. Eventually, we found a bar that was happy to seat us outside.

After lunch, we continued west on Highway 12 until we were redirected south. A bridge had been taken out, and we had to detour back to the interstate in Billings before continuing west.

In Lavina, we came across the historic Adams hotel, and the cars once again drew a crowd. Two men working to restore the hotel came out to inquire about our trip and give us some route guidance to make the most of our detour (they preferred a more direct dirt road, we preferred pavement).

A local rancher built the hotel in 1908 to cater to railroad travelers of the Milwaukee Road. The workers said it was one of the most haunted places in America, and a quick internet search confirms that it is haunted by a resident of the town's cemetery who wished to be buried in his native Switzerland. After a little more conversation, it was back to the road.

By mid-afternoon, we were only halfway through the day's route, and it was starting to take its toll. During a fuel stop, one of our drivers forgot to remove the nozzle after filling up and disconnected the hose from the pump. While embarrassed, he wouldn't be the only one to make that mistake before the trip was done.

By late afternoon, we hit tourist traffic in Livingston, less than an hour from the north end of Yellowstone. We regrouped at a gas station, decided we'd have to grab dinner in Helena, and headed that way.

While a change in scenery would have been nice, we settled for cruising into town with a stranger in a BRZ we found on the highway.

After a long, dusty drive, we found the first car wash of the trip and a gas station diner next door. My Covid anxiety went through the roof as they squeezed us into a table in the middle of the dining room, but the most expensive entree was under ten dollars, so my anxieties equaled themselves out. Our budget meal was completed, with plenty of cash left for a slice of pie, we headed back to the road for the final two hours of our drive.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, we were treated to a peaceful, pastel sunset. We stopped quickly at a lake to enjoy the brilliant sky. I attempted a steep climb down to the lake that left me clinging to roots and brush as I realized it was a fool-hardy experiment to try that grade.

Alex took the lead and alerted us to deer along the road as we finished the drive in the dark. We reached our cabin up a rutted-out dirt road around 9:30, hopped into the hot tub, then straight into bed.

Seeley Lake, MT – Kalispell, MT

The next morning we headed out at 7:00 am, down a dirt road not suited for low clearance sports cars. The smoke from nearby wildfires gave us a hazy sky devoid of any color or direct light. We quickly stopped at Inez Lake to admire the mountains, then booked it north to Glacier National Park.

We stopped in Hungry Horse to fuel up before heading into the park and hit a local grocery store for lunch supplies.

The rest of the day was spent exploring Glacier National Park via Going-to-the-Sun Road, one of America's most scenic drives. We admired the colorful pebbles of Lake McDonald and hoped the sky might clear as we traveled further into the park.

A road reservation system meant to limit traffic in the park had just ended a few days before our arrival, so the road was packed with travelers. We hoped to stop at Logan Pass to eat lunch, but a ranger waved us past their full parking lot. We stopped along a ridge just past Logan to eat sandwiches and take in the view.

Even with hazy skies and a bustling road, Glacier did not disappoint with its stunning scenery. The mountains were tall and dramatic, and the foliage was starting to turn, with a few trees beginning to sport their fall colors.

We made our way to Kalispell for dinner, opting to wait for two hours for a table to open up. Meanwhile, we hit the local beer store and browsed the local brews.

A vintage car with a map of America on its side caught our eye, and most of the group ran around the corner to intercept it. Inside was a french reporter and her cameraman traveling the length of the Pan-American Highway, from Prudhoe Bay, Alaska to Ushuaia, Argentina, documenting indigenous cultures along the way.

Kalispell, MT – Wenatchee, WA

The group had split into two Airbnb's the night before, so half of us got an early start in Kalispell. We were lucky enough to meet up with Danny at a gas station who had agreed to guide us around Montana for the day. Kirsten had met Danny through an 86 enthusiasts group while he was living in Maryland. Now living in Montana and no longer with an 86 to call his own, he rented the only FR-S available on Turo within 500 miles.

We met the rest of the group in Marion as they finished their breakfast (avocado toast that somehow lacked avocado), then headed to Danny's house to see his dogs.

Danny led us around some incredible roads in between the mountains of northern Montana. The haze dampened our view of the vistas, but as we wound our way along the roads, we got an idea of how grand it was.

Danny led as we continued to Kootenai Falls, where the Kootenay River drops into a rugged gorge, and a suspension bridge provides an incredible view. The bridge is known as the "Swinging bridge," and once our group was on it, they did their best to make it live up to its name, much to the chagrin of other visitors.

We took advantage of a snack stand at the falls and had lunch in the picnic area. We left our mark on a heavily stickered sign, talked about the cars with some curious on-lookers, then headed off towards Idaho.

We headed south through giant stands of evergreen trees toward Lake Pend Oreille and crossed into Idaho. Unfortunately, Danny had to head back home, which was now a few hours away, so we thanked him for showing us around his little section of the country and continued on our way.

While Montana's scenery was hard to beat, the little section of Idaho we crossed gave it a run for its money. Everything about that landscape is incredibly rugged yet welcoming. Every river and lake were a little more scenic than the last.

As impressive as the scenery was, I was promised ice cream once we reached Washington, so by mid-afternoon, we were at Spokane's most charming dessert shop, complete with a vintage neon sign and milk bottle-shaped building.

We spent the rest of the afternoon driving through Washington's apple orchards and once again found ourselves driving into an incredibly vibrant sunset as we reached Wenatchee.

Someone in the group decided on BBQ for dinner, and we ended up at a friendly fusion restaurant that layered smoked meats onto Asian-inspired salads and Mexican-inspired rice bowls.

After dinner, the group split into two Airbnbs, and ours was situated on the edge of a working apple orchard.

Wenatchee, WA – Packwood, WA

We left the apple orchard at 6:30 am and waited for the rest of the group to arrive near a coffee shop in Cashmere. A cat distracted us as the group filled up on gas and coffee. Thirty minutes later, we hit the road to Leavenworth, a Bavarian-style village situated on the edge of the "American Alps." The North Cascade mountains came to be known by this nickname thanks to their jagged shapes and turquoise lakes, similar to their European counterparts.

Leavenworth looked like any other tourist trap town but with a stringent building code. The Starbucks and 76 fuel signs featured an alpine-inspired serif. The McDonald's building looked like a ski chalet. The Wok About Mongolian Grill's pitched roof, flower boxes, and green shutters made it look like an unlikely place to find a schnitzel. We took a few photos and bolted towards something a little more mountainous.

We made our way past Stevens Pass, through the aptly named Scenic, WA, and regrouped at a trailhead before making our way onto a small, winding forest road.

We followed the Old Cascade Highway along the Tye River through an unmistakably Pacific Northwest forest scene. Tall, mossy trees surrounded us, and ferns grew everywhere underneath.

Ryan, our videographer, and I ran up and down the road setting up shots as the cars drove through the mystical forest. We saw just a few other visitors, and the quiet of the forest was a nice break from the highway.

Midmorning, having escaped the forest without any Sasquatch encounters, we stopped at a roadside espresso shack to get our Bigfoot fix.

Our next stop was to visit the Dirtfish Rally Driving School in Snoqualmie. One month earlier, Kirsten, Matt, Ryan, and one of our 2019 drivers, participated in a three-day driving experience where they learned rally driving techniques in BRZs. The Dirtfish instructors helped them masterfully hone the technical skills and timing to move the cars around their dirt course.

Kirsten arranged a visit for the rest of our group to see their facilities and meet one of their instructors, Michelle. She showed us around their office building, which was previously used as a filming location for the Twin Peaks sheriff's office (hence the decked-out Bronco outside). We also saw their collection of rally driving cars and driver uniforms, as well as their simulator lab.

Michelle joined us for lunch at the Snoqualmie Falls Brewery, where we talked about women in rallying and life in the Pacific Northwest. Then, we took some group photos and headed south towards Mount Rainier.

It took us a few hours to wind our way towards Mount Rainier. We stopped in a small town just short of the park and were approached by kids loitering in the gas station parking lot. They asked all sorts of questions like "How fast do these cars go?," and "What's it like to take a cross-country road trip." Then, they told us they'd been kicked out of school that day for protesting the school's COVID mask requirements.

Mount Rainier likes to play hide and seek. On a four-day trip to Seattle a few years ago, I only saw the mountain for a few hours before it dipped back behind the clouds. As we entered the park, our chances of seeing the mountain were zero. Heavy fog blocked the view in all directions. Once we reached the Paradise Visitors Center, the fog so thick you could barely see the end of the parking lot.

We joked that the mountain was to our left, or was it to the right? And there are many photos of fog that can be labeled as "View of Mount Rainier."

The fog dissipated as we made our way down the park road, but the valleys were filled with a cloud inversion making the scene very muted and moody. We ran down the road capturing some photos of the eerie scene.

We made it to the park's boundary and a taqueria in Packwood around 7:30 pm. Loaded up with dinner, we made the quick drive to the A-frame cabins we had rented for the night. Unfortunately, our host had not cleaned up after the last guest, so we had a few chores to do before we could relax in the hot tub.

Packwood, WA – Portland, OR

We packed up the cars, left our cabins at 7:00 am, and headed to The Mountain Goat for coffee and pastries. Daniel drove two hours in his red Toyota 86 to cruise with us for the day.

The sun came out and burned off all of the fog that hid the mountains the day prior. We drove towards Mount Saint Helens and admired the scars of its last significant eruption along the way.

We stopped at each viewpoint on the way up Mount Saint Helens and admired the view from the observatory at the top. The mountain's destructive past was evident in its shape and the barren landscape that surrounds it—the mountain steamed from its top throughout our visit.

We plotted our route and started to drive south towards Oregon. We stopped for pizza just north of the state border in Kelso, said our goodbyes to Daniel, and headed for the coast.

It's hard to put into words the beauty of Oregon. North Dakota had a rugged beauty, Montana's rivers and mountains amazed, Idaho is worth a return visit, and Washington's Cascades captivated me several times this summer. But Oregon, it's a whole other level of scenic.

We drove along the Columbia River and caught glimpses of its beauty as we headed towards the coast. We wound our way along the narrow entrance to Ecola State Park to get our first real glimpse of the trip's midway goal: driving coast to coast. Pacific coast, check!

Nick told us about this fantastic candy store at Cannon Beach throughout the trip, so we were excited to check it out. It did not disappoint. While the others loaded up on salt water taffy, I was lured in by the chile truffles and chocolate raspberry sticks.

On Cannon Beach, we reverted to childhood in search of a Goonies treasure. What we found was the joy of letting the waves lap at our feet as we realized we were officially at the halfway point of our trip. In the shadow of Haystack Rock, we celebrated and found a stranger to take a full group photo.

We continued down the coast for a while, taking in the scene as the sun crept lower. Nick had discovered a great Thai restaurant in Tillamook on his last trip to the Oregon coast, so we headed there for dinner. The strip mall restaurant was small and unassuming, its kitchen separated from the three dining room tables with plastic fencing. It was the best meal of the trip.

After dinner, we drove through the dark to our Airbnb in Portland.

Portland, OR – Baker City, OR

On my last full day of the trip, we woke up pre-dawn and drove towards the Columbia River Gorge.

We made it to Voodoo Donuts by 7:00 am and chose a few options from their overwhelming menu.

By 8:00 am, we arrived at the aptly named Vista House and enjoyed the scene as the sun attempted to poke out of the low-hanging clouds.

We drove along the scenic corridor of the Columbia River Gorge for a while and were blocked from entering the parking lot to Multnomah Falls by a guy who looked like Judah Freelander pumping a five-pound weight. We double-backed and entered the parking lot from the proper direction, then headed up to see one of the world's most famous waterfalls.

We continued along the gorge to Rowena Crest, where we were excited to meet up with Seth, a member of the Mid-Atlantic 86 Club from Maryland. Seth was on a cross-country trip in his GT86, and we'd feared we missed the opportunity to connect a few nights prior.

The group cruised down to a horseshoe curve in the road below the viewpoint and cruised back up for a group photo. Meanwhile, Alex befriended a couple who used a massive military surplus vehicle as their daily driver.

We had to cut our visit with Seth short as we still had a lot of miles to cover. So, we followed the Columbia River east and stopped at a truck stop to grab a quick lunch and illegally pump our own gas. We crossed back into Washington to eat lunch at a park along the river, then strapped in for a long drive towards a less populated part of eastern Oregon.

We cruised from the Columbia River, wound our way through a canyon and into a wide expanse of farmland in every direction. The golden fields glimmered in the afternoon sunshine.

As we approached the John Day Fossil Beds, the road snaked its way through rolling hills and stretched towards hills on the horizon.

By the time we reached the Clarno Unit of John Day Fossil Beds National Monument, the combination of looking through a camera's viewfinder and the road's curves had gotten the best of both the trip's photographer and videographer. We sought some fresh air on a short walk up the hillside, hoping our stomachs would stay strong.

The road wasn't quite done with us yet, but the curves of these roads were what we all wanted out of this trip: tight curves, epic scenery, and a sparse landscape.

By mid-afternoon, we were all personally running on fumes. And we weren't willing to risk running out of fuel in the middle of rural Oregon, so we stopped at the only gas station we could find for over 100 miles.

The scenic rolling hills continued to amaze as we headed towards the monument's Painted Hills section. As we crested each hill, the scenery just kept getting better.

By late afternoon, we had reached the destination I'd been looking forward to most: the Painted Hills. These volcanic formations are layered with bands of red, orange, green, and gold ash and are otherworldly in their appearance. Sneakily set back into the Oregon wilderness, they're easily accessible along a gravel road.

We headed for another area of the hills to watch the late afternoon sun paint the hills in warm light. The fingers and shapes of each hill became more apparent as the sun lit them from the side. A snake slithered along the trail and dipped into a hole as I walked back toward the car.

The last night's drive before I left the trip was brutal. We left the Painted Hills just before sunset and faced a three-hour drive to Baker City. Nick detoured earlier in the day and sent us a warning of the abundance of deer along the highway we'd be traveling.

Around 8:00 pm, we found one of the few restaurants open late on a Sunday night and ordered takeout. Everyone else waited until they arrived at the Airbnb to eat, but knowing we still had an hour-and-a-half drive, I ate mine right away.

We finally arrived around 10:00 pm. Part of the group headed for the hot tub, others to bed, and I quickly repacked my bags for my flight home the following day.

Baker City, OR – Boise, ID

The next morning, we headed out early for my last day of the trip. Oregon continued to amaze on our short trip two-hour drive to the Boise airport. My part of this amazing trip was over.

We pulled into a gas station near the airport to say our goodbyes. Maybe the "F- Biden!" and "Trump 2024" flags had become a familiar sight by this point in the trip, so I didn't realize until later that we were surrounded by a group protesting President Biden's trip to Boise that day.

I waved goodbye to my travel companions, and my wife drove me to the airport terminal. Inside, I quickly made it through security and enjoyed all of the wonders of a small airport, especially its gift shop full of potato-themed gifts (Spud Wars-style Darth Tater – Welcome to the starch side t-shirts).

I heard murmurs of flight delays, but it wasn't until I saw Air Force One landing that I realized Biden was traveling through the same airport I was on the same day. His plane landed, the motorcade circled, and he was quickly whisked off to the National Interagency Fire Center on the other side of the airport. Suddenly, our flight crew was in a hurry to go wheels up before all flights were grounded again, so before I knew it, we were in the air, and my trip had officially come to an end.

The rest of the crew continued to travel east for another week of adventure. Later that day, a drain plug wiggled its way out of my wife's car, dumped fluids, and left her stranded just north of the Sawtooth National Forest. The crew split up, some waiting with her for a 200-mile tow and others gathering supplies for a driveway repair. It was a trip full of adventures.s

Back on the road the next day, they traveled up the Tetons, through Yellowstone, and over to the Black Hills and Badlands before making the long drive back to the east coast.