Cross country trip anyone?

 

In the summer of 1909, a 22-year-old homemaker named Alice Ramsey set out to do something utterly outrageous for her time: drive across the country. Not with her husband. Not with a mechanic. But with three other women—none of whom could drive. Her goal wasn’t to break speed records or prove technical prowess. It was to show that women belonged on the road just as much as men.

Back then, “roads” were more often than not little more than rutted trails, dust-choked tracks, or muddy messes barely passable by wagon. Maps were laughable. Gas stations were scarce. And the idea of a woman driving long distances was seen as a novelty—if not an outright act of rebellion. But that didn’t stop Alice. She loaded up a dark green Maxwell touring car and set off from New York City, determined to reach San Francisco.

The journey took 59 days. Along the way, they changed 11 tires, crossed treacherous terrain, drove through blinding rain and searing heat, and sometimes relied on telegraph poles for navigation. They were chased by men on horseback, stared at by stunned farmers, and even encountered Native American families still living on reservations. There were no hotel reservations. No GPS. No AAA.

Alice did all the driving. She also did most of the repairs. She had taken a car apart and put it back together before the trip, just in case. The other women—her two sisters-in-law and a friend—provided moral support, conversation, and an extra set of hands when needed. They were ladies of their time, wearing long skirts and wide-brimmed hats, but they were also bold enough to laugh in the face of convention.

When they rolled into San Francisco, they were met with astonishment. Newspapers across the country ran headlines about their feat. Men were impressed. Women were inspired. And Alice Ramsey became the first woman to drive coast-to-coast—a pioneer not only of the automobile age but of a new kind of female independence. Not flashy. Not angry. Just determined. Practical. And brave as hell.