LA to The Gorge: My 2,054 Mile Road Trip

TRAVEL

I DROVE 2,054 MILES FROM LA TO THE GORGE — HERE’S HOW I DID IT.

2,054 miles. 42 hours of driving. Five days.

How do you get from Los Angeles to The Gorge in Washington for a concert—and decide to drive it yourself?

That’s what I did.

The Gorge had been on my bucket list for years. When I finally decided I was going to see Dave Matthews Band there, I had a choice: fly or make the drive part of the adventure.

I chose the road solo.

The Trip at a Glance

🚗 2,054 miles
⏱️ 42 hours of driving
📍 5 days
⚡ 33 Tesla charging stops
⛺ 2 nights sleeping in my car
🏨 2 hotel nights
💰 $1,290 total

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So… How Far Is LA to The Gorge?

A lot farther than I realized when I decided to go.

My trip totaled 2,054 miles round trip and about 42 hours of driving over five days.

And no, I didn’t drive 42 hours straight.

My first day was the big one: 828 miles from Los Angeles to Bend, Oregon — about 16 hours.

After that, most of my driving days were around six hours and roughly 300-mile stretches, with my final day from Northern California back to Southern California taking about 10 hours.

Here’s roughly how the route went:

Los Angeles → Bend → The Gorge → Portland → Ashland → Southern California

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Day 1: Los Angeles to Bend

I knew the first day was going to be long. I had so much anxiety about the drive that I couldn’t sleep, so I finally gave up and left Los Angeles at 3 a.m. I left with the intention of seeing how far I could actually make it. I didn’t know if I could get all the way to Bend, but I was hoping I could.

And 828 miles is a really long time to be in a car.

I made my way north, stopping to charge along the way. When I reached my charging stop in Ashland Falls, a friend recommended that I stop by his mom’s house to say hi and stretch my legs. So I did. That little break ended up giving me the reset I needed, and while I was there I decided I could probably make the additional few hours to Bend. I booked an inn for the night and kept going.

Just past Ashland Falls, it started to rain. And then I drove right into a double rainbow. I took it as a sign that I was going to make the concert.

I made it to Bend in time for dinner, which felt like a pretty big accomplishment after 16 hours and 828 miles of driving. What I didn’t realize was that my body wasn’t quite ready to stop. When I sat down for dinner, I still felt like I was moving. After being in the car for that long, my body was basically asking, What did you just do?!

But I had made it to Bend. And The Gorge was getting closer.

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Day 2: Bend to The Gorge

The next morning, I was back on the road. What I didn’t realize when I planned this trip was that Oregon has a high desert—and a lot of it.

There were stretches of the drive when I was genuinely afraid I was going to run out of charge in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but huge, open ranch land, dotted with old barns that looked like they could have been there since the Oregon Trail days. It brought back memories of the Oregon Trail game I used to play at eight years old, except now I was actually driving through it.

I kept wondering, Where are all the pine trees? This wasn’t the Oregon I had pictured in my head.

And then the questions started creeping in. What if I blew a tire? What if something happened out here? What if I didn’t make it to the concert that night?

I had one ticket to the show—and a free ticket into the pit. I couldn’t fail now.

Only six hours to The Gorge.

As I got closer, the landscape began to change, and then suddenly I was driving past fruit orchards toward the campground. I had read online that I needed to get there early because the lines could be crazy. But when I arrived, there was no one in line.

No one.

I pulled into my camping spot, got out my tripod, and started filming my reaction. I couldn’t believe it. I was finally there.

My red car with its California plate was surrounded by people who seemed like serious campers. And then there was me—a California girl who doesn’t camp, sitting in a campground in Washington because I was determined to see Dave Matthews at The Gorge.

Somehow, I had actually made it.

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The Bucket List Moment

It was a gorgeous, sunny day when I arrived at The Gorge, and I had plenty of time before the show, so I decided to walk around and explore the campground.

I had read about a winery next door to the amphitheater that was within walking distance, so I figured I’d make my way over there. On the walk, I met a couple who were heading in the same direction. They were friendly, and we ended up keeping each other company as we walked to the winery.

It was crowded when we arrived, but I grabbed a glass of wine and settled into the backyard, where live music was playing. The views were gorgeous—you could see The Gorge from the winery—and it was one of those moments when I thought, I really made it here.

Then I spotted a guy making pizzas out of a truck.

Of course, I had to find out his story.

I ended up talking to Rich, the owner of Camp Pizza, about his passion for pizza and how the whole thing started. The pizza had more than an hour wait, but I decided I was willing to wait.

While I waited, I met a group of guys standing on a balcony overlooking the backyard, the music and the Gorge. One of them friended me on Instagram and ended up checking in on me throughout my drive back to California. It was one of those unexpected connections that came out of simply being willing to talk to people along the way.

Eventually, my pizza arrived.

I ate, took in the view a little longer, and then walked back to the campground to grab a sweater for the evening.

Then it was finally time.

I headed into the amphitheater.

I had bought a lawn ticket and found a spot toward the top of the lawn for the opening act. It was a beautiful night—warm, comfortable, and with one of the most incredible sunsets I had ever seen.

I had also purchased access to the Sunset Deck, thinking it would be a great way to experience the venue. In hindsight, it wasn't really worth it for me. The only real advantage was having access to air-conditioned, real toilets, since the amphitheater and campground primarily use portable toilets. If I went again, I’d skip it.

But then came the part I had driven 2,000 miles for.

I met my cousin’s friend at the pit entrance. She had an extra ticket to the pit, and I joined her group for the night.

Suddenly, after all those hours of driving, all the charging stops, the anxiety, the questions about whether I could actually make it—I was standing in the pit at The Gorge.

Watching Dave Matthews Band at their most famous venue.

It was an absolutely epic way to experience a concert I had been dreaming about for years.

And standing there, I couldn't help but think back to that 3 a.m. departure from Los Angeles.

I had actually done it.

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I Camped at The Gorge… Sort Of

I had bought a camping pass because I kept hearing that camping was the thing to do when seeing Dave Matthews at The Gorge.

The problem? I don’t camp.

I had camped in my car once before, though, and I had a mattress that fit perfectly in the back of my Tesla. And honestly, it’s pretty comfortable. You can set the air conditioning to whatever temperature you want, the mattress is surprisingly comfortable, and I can lay completely flat the entire length of the back.

So I figured, I can do this.

After the concert, I joined the long line of people walking the mile or so back to the campground. By the time I got back, it was completely dark. I pulled out my flashlight to find my way to the portable toilet and then stood around talking to the girls camping next to me, asking the very basic question: So… what happens now?

I think I had a very specific picture in my head of what camping at a concert would be like. I expected the campground to turn into a giant post-concert party. When I arrived earlier that day, it had been lively—everyone was outside, it was sunny, people were hanging out. I assumed it would be even more fun after the show.

But apparently, that was not the vibe.

Everyone seemed to just go to bed.

And I realized I might have been bringing my own version of a concert camping experience from my 20s into a campground full of people who were there to do this properly.

These were serious Dave Matthews fans. They were hardcore campers. They were waiting in line for merch. They had their kids with them. They clearly knew what they were doing.

And then there was me.

I was there to see a concert, have a drink and experience The Gorge.

Since I was solo, I eventually climbed back into my Tesla, made a few social media posts and went to bed.

It was actually pretty comfortable.

The next morning, the weather had completely changed. It was windy and cloudy, and it looked like rain was coming.

I had a camping pass for $302, and technically I could have stayed another night or two. I also could have tried to find a ticket for the following night's concert and stayed for another show.

But I didn't.

Instead, I decided to take my time heading back and see more of Oregon. I didn't have another concert to rush back for, so why not make the drive home part of the adventure too?

Looking back, I probably didn't need to camp.

I bought the pass because I had heard that if you were going to The Gorge, you had to do the camping experience. But I think I learned something from it: sometimes you can hear that something is the thing to do and assume it has to be part of your experience, when really, you get to decide what you want your trip to be.

Was camping the most economical way to use a $302 pass for one night?

Probably not.

But the point of this trip wasn't to squeeze every possible dollar of value out of every reservation. It was to figure out what kind of experience I actually wanted—and, sometimes, that meant changing the plan once I got there.

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Finding Little Stops Along the Way

One of my favorite things about road trips is that the destination isn't really the whole story. You get to stop at places you never would have seen if you had simply flown—and sometimes you make decisions you never planned on making.

When I left The Gorge, my plan was still up in the air. I stopped for coffee for the road, and before I headed out, I remembered that my cousin had told me one of her friends was also camping at the concert. So I tracked her down and stopped to see her.

I ended up staying for three hours.

We sat and talked about our shared Italian American passion, and for a while, I really was debating whether I should just stay another night. Then it started pouring rain. Then it began to clear up. I went back and forth and back and forth.

But eventually I decided to get on the road.

If I left that day, I could make my way toward Portland and Ashland and see more of Oregon. If I stayed another night, I would have to go back the way I had come, and I already knew I didn't particularly like that road.

So I headed toward Portland.

Along the way, I saw a sign for waterfalls near the Washington-Oregon border and decided to make a pit stop.

And suddenly, there was the Oregon I had pictured in my head.

Pine trees. Green everywhere. Water dripping from the rocks around the waterfalls.

This was what I had been expecting when I imagined Oregon.

I eventually made it to Portland in time for dinner and checked into a hotel downtown. It was a Sunday night, so not much was open, but I found a place across the street, grabbed some dinner and called it a night. I was too tired to keep exploring.

The next morning, I decided to give Portland another shot before getting back on the road. I ventured over to the Mississippi Street area and immediately wished I had found it the night before. It felt much more like my vibe.

Oh well. I made a mental note for next time.

From there, I continued south, taking my time and stopping whenever I saw something that caught my attention.

I saw a sign for a U-pick farm and, of course, I had to stop. I picked apples and vegetables and got my little taste of fall.

Then I saw a sign advertising some of the best wines in Oregon and decided that was a good enough reason to stop at a winery.

This was becoming my favorite part of the road trip. I didn't have to stick to a strict itinerary. I could see a sign, get curious and just follow it.

I wanted to make it to Ashland for dinner, and I did. After dinner, I decided to keep driving into California. I had to be back for work and a going-away dinner for a friend, and I didn't want to leave myself with another 12-hour drive the next day.

There was one other consideration: I had food in my car, and I was nervous about staying overnight in the Shasta area because I didn't want a bear breaking into my Tesla.

So I made another spontaneous decision.

I camped at a rest area.

And here's something I learned on this trip: did you know you can stay overnight for free at many rest areas?

Since I already had my mattress and my Tesla camping setup, I figured why not save the money for one night? I pulled over, settled into the back of the car and called it a night.

It was surprisingly comfortable.

And honestly, just as good as a hotel for what I needed that night.

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So, What Did 2,054 Miles Actually Cost?

Here’s the part I was curious about too.

⛺ Camping: $302

I stayed one night at The Gorge, even though I could have stayed longer.

⚡ Tesla charging: $323

I made 33 charging stops throughout the trip.

🏨 Hotels: $390

Two nights total, one night in Bend and one night in Portland.

🍴 Food + drinks: $275

Everything from meals to the little road-trip stops along the way. I had brought snacks for day time eating and only ate out one meal a day.

🎟️ Concert ticket: $126

I bought a lawn seat ticket and a ticket for the sunset deck but got a free ticket into the pit.

TOTAL: $1,290

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Was It Worth Driving 2,054 Miles?

For me, yes—but not because every minute of the trip was perfect.

There were long stretches of road. There were moments when I was genuinely afraid I would break down on the side of the road somewhere in the middle of nowhere. There was rain. And after driving for so many hours, I was so nauseous that I could barely enjoy dinner when I finally stopped.

But honestly, there were also a lot of beautiful moments.

I met people along the way that I think of as my travel angels—people who happened to cross my path and made the trip feel a little less solo. There was the friend who sent me to his mom's house to stop and stretch my legs. The couple who walked with me to the winery. The people I met at The Gorge who checked in on me during my drive back to California. And the people who simply said, Hey, it was nice to meet you. Thanks for coming.

Those little connections were something I never could have planned.

And then there was Oregon.

I don't think I fully appreciated how much of the state I would see by driving. If I had flown into Portland, I would have missed so much of what ended up being my favorite part of the trip.

The small towns. The farms. The old buildings. The waterfalls. The pine trees. The wineries. The little businesses and roadside stops. There was something so charming about the way Oregon preserves its history while still feeling very much alive.

It made me want to go back—not necessarily for another concert, but to actually spend time exploring Oregon.

Would I drive 2,000 miles to The Gorge again? I'm not sure.

I might do The Gorge differently next time and fly to the concert. The venue is absolutely incredible, but it is a very long drive from Southern California, and if I'm being honest, I don't need to prove to myself that I can do it twice.

But would I take another road trip through Oregon? Absolutely.

In fact, I think you'd be missing too much if you simply flew into Portland and never got out on the road.

If I did a drive like this again, I'd also give myself more time. Five days worked, but I was constantly making decisions based on how much distance I needed to cover and when I had to be home. With another few days, I could slow down, stay longer in the places that caught my attention and explore without constantly checking the clock.

That's probably the biggest thing this trip taught me: sometimes the best parts of a road trip are the things you never planned to see.

I drove to The Gorge for a concert.

I came home wanting to go back to Oregon.

And maybe that's the best kind of road trip. Because in the end, it’s not always the places you remember most—it’s the people you meet along the way who make the journey unforgettable.

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The story doesn't end here.

I talked more about this trip, the decision to go, and what it made me think about in my latest solo episode of What Lights Us Up.

If you’ve ever found yourself waiting for someone else, the right time, or the perfect circumstances to do something you really want to do, I think you’ll connect with this one.

Become a paid subscriber on Apple Podcasts or Substack for the exclusive solo episode.

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