The Delta Variant Peaks: Is This The End Of The Road For Travel?

With its jagged mountain peaks and vast prairies, Montana is one of the prettiest states in the union. But in early September, it was also one of the most dangerous, with more than 50 new daily COVID cases per 100,000 residents. (Any more than 25 daily new cases per 100,000 residents is enough to land you in the red zone.) On a 16-hour drive from Minnesota to Washington State, we only stopped only once for gas in Montana.

The travel landscape had changed dramatically since we left Arizona almost six months ago. Back then, COVID cases were falling and optimism was rising after a long pandemic. Among travelers, attitudes toward the pandemic ranged from apathy to high anxiety. But no one imagined it would return with the ferocity of the delta variant, and at precisely the time when everyone wanted to travel.

And now, there we were in the middle of the peak. Remarkably, only about a quarter of U.S. travelers canceled or changed plans because of the COVID delta variant, according to new research by TripIt. The reasons are complicated. Cancellations are expensive. Of those who changed or canceled plans, 27 percent lost money, TripIt says. Some travelers forfeited up to $5,000 in cancellation fees and missed tours, it notes.

But another reason so few travelers canceled was that the pandemic had become old news. They’d obediently canceled their summer vacations in 2020, and they were ready for a make-up trip. So they were going — delta surge or not.

This is the eighth in a series about a 10,000-mile road trip around the United States during the rise and fall of the delta variant. 

When delta started to peak, here’s what happened in Minnesota

Laying the tracks for a delta surge in the Midwest

This is how the delta variant surprised summer travelers

Washington, D.C., surveys the Covid damage

What happens when travelers follow the Covid rules?

Covid amnesia in the South

How the delta variant changed travel

Our road trip through three western states was a blur, but it also forced us to ask some existential questions. We’d watched a dangerous variant emerge, and we had seen the almost casual reaction from travelers. Had we also gone too far? 

Was this the end of the road for us? 

Racing to Spokane

We didn’t stop in Montana or Idaho, even though I wanted to. In early September, these are destinations worth seeing. The cooler temperatures are just starting to turn the leaves a faint yellow. The summer vacationers have left, but the weather is still warm. 

I wanted to stop in Bozeman for a few days to take my sons hiking up Drinking Horse Mountain or into the Painted Hills. But it just didn’t feel safe. News reports had already declared several western states hotspots for delta. I didn’t want to become a statistic.

Instead, we raced to the safety of my uncle’s house in Spokane, Wash. He’d invited us to spend a few weeks in Eastern Washington to take a break from being on the road. The timing couldn’t have been better. Just as we arrived, things started to get very serious. Officials were starting to discuss lockdowns and vaccine mandates. My uncle takes every precaution when it comes to COVID. We would be safe in his basement.

Spokane is also a great base to explore Idaho’s panhandle (Coeur d’Alene is just a half-hour drive away) and, beyond that, Montana. I had envisioned a series of weekend trips to see this region, but delta put a damper on all that. We decided to stay in Spokane, cautiously exploring our neighborhood and keeping a safe distance from everyone. Would it be enough, though?

Is it time to quit this trip?

On my daily walks through Manito Park with my son, we reviewed the previous six months. Now we could speculate on the origins of the delta surge in places like Texas, Florida and Georgia, with their laissez-faire attitudes. Even in states with more cautious approaches, like Virginia, Maryland and Vermont, the delta variant was surging. We couldn’t believe the indifferent attitude of the travelers we met in the Midwest. But that’s what you get after more than one year of a pandemic. 

It was all kindling for the fire that now burned brightly. Every day, the number of COVID cases rose. On September 11, Washington hit 50 new infections per 100,000 rate, catching up to Montana. Two days later, the number of cases would peak at 53 per 100,000, but at the time, we had no way of knowing if the worst was over or still ahead.

But that prompted some difficult questions we had to ask ourselves. Was the last six months a mistake? Was a cross-country road trip with three teenagers during a pandemic the best idea? My 14-year-old daughter had already voted on that question, and she left halfway through while we were in Washington, D.C., for a more stable life. But my sons and I pressed on, into New England, the Midwest and now the Pacific Northwest. 

Was this pure folly? 

I know travelers have asked the same questions because I’ve talked to them along the way. They had to weigh their need to get out of town for a few days against the reality of rising COVID cases. 

They knew this summer wasn’t a drill. They had friends and family who had contracted COVID and died. They knew the toll that this pandemic could take. But some of them weren’t swayed by it. They bought hand sanitizer, disinfectant wipes and a package of face masks, and they hit the road anyway. 

I thought about what might have been. What if we’d stayed in Sedona, safely hiking our favorite trails every day and spending the weekends at the Farmers Market and eating Pisa Lisa’s famous vegan pizza? If I’d done that, maybe we would have been safer.

But then, there is something — something I can’t quite explain — that pushes me forward. The voice in my head says: “Yes, Chris, it’s worth the risk. Go anyway.” 

But was that the right call?

Discovering the Pacific Northwest

Finishing the trip as planned in early November in Los Angeles was an easy sell. Both my sons fully understood the risks of continuing to Idaho, Arizona and California, but they were not afraid. 

I had some misgivings. My 16-year-old son had an irregular vaccination schedule. In April, he received the Moderna shot in error. In May, he received the correct Pfizer shot, but waited too long to schedule the second one. So he decided to restart the sequence in Spokane. I was afraid he might be vulnerable to infection in the meantime. 

We cautiously explored Spokane outside our daily walks through the park. As it turns out, it’s one of the most underrated cities in America. We discovered our new favorite bakery, the Grain Shed, just a few blocks away from the park. Like all businesses in Washington, mask rules were strictly enforced. I even saw people replacing their masks between sips of coffee, which I consider a little extreme. 

You can easily spend a few days walking through Riverfront Park and enjoying the views of the waterfalls or touring the exhibits at the nearby Northwest Museum of Arts and Culture. Early September is the perfect time to be there. 

I interviewed a fellow traveler from Minnesota who had landed in Spokane by coincidence after his river cruise company canceled his vacation. He seemed so impressed that he wanted to return, which is the highest form of praise for any destination. 

Fortunately, my 16-year-old didn’t even get the sniffles before receiving his second Pfizer shot. And a few days later, we felt ready to jump back onto the road, albeit very carefully. We didn’t know it then, but the delta variant had already peaked in many states and was starting to fall again. But was this the end of the pandemic, or just another break in a seemingly never-ending series of surges?

Next: A dangerous odyssey to Idaho, Arizona and California.