I just got home from a 10-day road trip I took with my two sons. The idea for the road trip sprouted from an originally simple idea that we would go see the National Sports Card Convention in Cleveland. Instead of flying, we would drive and stop off at my dad’s farm in Kentucky. That evolved into an epic road trip that included:

• Fishing in Kentucky

• Riding and operating a tractor on my dad’s farm

• Basketball and baseball in the country

• A baseball game in Cleveland (Padres vs Guardians)

• A two-day stay at an indoor waterpark west of Cleveland

• A quick trip to Pittsburgh to see Paul Skenes pitch for the Pirates

• A trip up the historic Duquense Incline in Pittsburgh

• A short walk around the Heinz Center in downtown Pittsburgh

• Two days at the National Sports Card Convention in Cleveland

• More fishing and hanging out on the farm in Kentucky

Of course, there was also the driving. There’s something special about driving across that country that is totally lost when you fly. I talked to my boys about this experience and they agreed. Even though it was over 41 hours of driving all combined, they loved seeing 7 different states, driving over some of America’s most famous rivers, seeing some of its oldest cities, and just enjoying the various landscapes of the south, midwest, and midatlantic.

Driving also affords plenty of time to think. We listened to three audiobooks on the trip (another luxury you can’t get while flying), but even while listening, the brain wanders. The brain reflects. The brain cleanses.

I work in tech. Specifically, I manage product and engineering teams for a small startup in the web3 space. Every day I contend not just with the normal trials of management but also with the whims of a market that is beholden to ticker symbols. I don’t do a good job of unplugging. I don’t generally take a lot of time off (though I’ve tried to change that this summer with two great vacations). I am an older millennial, so I identify more with Gen X than I do with younger millennials. There’s no clocking out at 5pm every day. There’s no disconnect during the weekends. Not when you really care and are passionate. That is how I view dedication, for better or worse.*

And when you do that all the time, it almost always results in worse. Burnout is guaranteed. Despite taking a vacation in mid-June, I was burnt out again by mid-July. Just in time for this road trip.

The road is a canvas. It unfolds like a scroll waiting for ink. This is why a road trip like the one I just took is so important to my work. I was free to let my brain stumble over questions and concerns that I would otherwise have been pushed down and ignored. I was able to be honest with myself in a way I just don’t have time for during the hustle of everyday work and life. Every mile presented questions which are often better than answers. Questions allow for exploration and, if you’re lucky, understanding.

The nagging concerns about product decisions and how best to manage and inspire people were freely walking around in my head as we crossed East Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, Tennessee, Kentucky, Ohio, and Pennsylvania. I was able to face the conflict that is often presented by the industry in which I work, an industry that has largely pledged itself to a presidential candidate who is the antithesis of everything I stand for as a human. I was able to unwind the market problem generated by the rollercoaster of crypto’s price charts.

Did I come away with all the answers? Of course not. In my opinion, that’s not the value of a road trip like this. The value is in the journey, the questions, the free-flowing problem space. In fact, I got into tech in the first place because of the problems, not the solutions. Solutions will come, but they will come with the full backing of a brain cleanse that I’ve only ever experienced in smaller bursts when I was a runner.

I’m thankful for this road trip for a million reasons, not the least of which is the bonding with my boys that I hope they will remember for the rest of their lives. But the opportunity to free my mind and let the miles that fell behind us pull at the strings I’ve had balled up inside is a pretty damn great benefit.

*I talked to my dad about this. I am a big proponent of work-life balance, and I think I have it, but I also throw myself wholly into work I care about. Yet, when I worked at large companies that treated me like a cog, I never did this, and I was a punch-the-clock guy. There’s a difference between dedication to a small startup where you quite literally have ownership in the company and a massive company that would just as soon lay you off as give you a promotion.