There’s a fine line between adventure and a missing person report.

Maybe you’re standing on the curb in Las Vegas watching your Uber driver argue with a pigeon. Maybe you’re on the side of a dirt road in northern Arizona wondering why there’s a clown statue nailed to a fence post. Maybe you’re halfway through a donut in Portland when a guy walks up and says he’s Jesus but “the spicy version.”

This is America. She’s beautiful. She’s broken. She smells like bacon grease and broken dreams. But if you know how to move through her streets — city and rural alike — you can make it home in one piece, hopefully with a few weird stories and only minor emotional scarring.

This is your Salta guide to surviving the open road, the forgotten alley, and the cross-country curiosity that got you into this mess in the first place. It’s not about fear — it’s about awareness. Because nothing kills the vibe like getting robbed, ghosted, or hauled off in a firetruck…by clowns.

Let’s get into it.

KNOW WHERE YOU ARE

When you’re booking that cheap little rental with the clawfoot tub and exposed brick, take two minutes to look at a crime map. No, really. Just type the address into Google, add “crime map,” and look for red. Lots of red? Maybe not tonight, Satan.

Every city has “that neighborhood” — sometimes it’s two blocks from the trendiest ramen in town. Grit and charm are not the same thing. Urban decay can be photogenic. But some streets don’t want you on them, and they will tell you with their broken lights, spray-painted sidewalks, and how everyone seems to be walking either way too fast or way too slow. Every city’s got hot and cold zones. And some zip codes flip personality once the sun goes down. One block can mean the difference between a pleasant evening walk and a sprint through broken glass with a man named Loco chasing you.

Bonus tip: ask your bartender or barista where not to walk at night. They’ll know. And if they hesitate or get cagey, ask if they’d let their grandma stay in that Airbnb. Works every time.

DON’T GET KIDNAPPED BY YOUR RIDESHARE

Most Uber and Lyft drivers are just trying to pay rent, not abduct you. But if your gut says “something’s off,” listen.

Before you get in, check the license plate. Ask the driver who they’re picking up (don’t say your name first). Sit in the back, preferably behind the passenger seat — it gives you two exit routes and a better view of their phone. If the GPS route suddenly heads toward a quarry, you’ll have a few extra seconds to decide between tuck-and-roll or full-blown backseat rage mode.

Also: memorize the general direction of your hotel or Airbnb (see above). If you’re going north and they turn south without explanation, speak up. Politely. Like a human who doesn’t want to die. Don’t fall asleep. Don’t get distracted. And for the love of road trips, don’t trust your safety to a five-star rating.

Bonus: if something feels weird, fake a phone call. Loudly mention where you are, where you’re going, and that you’re “sending your location just in case.” Weird vibes usually vanish around witnesses — even fake ones.

AVOID FLAMMABLE BUILDINGS (AND BE READY IF THEY BECOME FLAMMABLE)

Nothing ruins a trip like a hotel fire at 3am. Also, nobody reads the fire map on the back of the hotel door. Be the weirdo who does.

Figure out the stairwell. See if the windows open. Look for sprinklers. Feel the walls at night like you’re in a prison movie. You’re not paranoid. You’re prepared.

Count how many doors are between your room and the exit. That’s your escape route in case the lights go out or the hallway is full of smoke. Stay low, move quick.

Locate the stairs, not just the elevator. Elevators are great for when you are drunk and can’t get up the stairs. Elevators are bad for when you are drunk and the hotel is on fire. It is better to drunkenly fall down the fully engulfed flaming hotels stairs, then to roast in the metal suspended box stuck between floors.

Same goes for wilderness cabins and converted vintage campers that look “so cute on Instagram.” Do they have a fire extinguisher? Carbon monoxide detector? Do the outlets spark when you plug in your phone?

Pack a mini smoke detector if you’re feeling fancy. Stick it on the ceiling. You’ll sleep better.

STREET WISDOM: WHEN TO LOOK, WHEN TO WALK

Every city has its cast of sidewalk saints and unmedicated prophets. You’ll know them when you see them: arguing with lampposts, crawling out of shrubbery, or playing invisible harmonicas. This isn’t judgment. It’s a safety scan.

Mental health crises, drug use, and urban decay aren’t your enemies, but they’re not part of your vacation, either. Some folks are harmless. Others are unstable. You are not their therapist. Do not make eye contact. Do not respond. Do not give money. You are not in a Hallmark movie.

The rule is simple: Do not engage. Don’t smile. Don’t nod. Definitely don’t talk back unless you’re in the mood for a monologue from the void.

Keep walking. Head up. Shoulders wide. Like you belong here. Because you do — just not in their conversation.

SPARE YOURSELF THE WORST-CASE SCENARIO

Your wallet gets stolen. Your phone dies. Your plan goes sideways. What now?

Here’s the holy trinity of “not completely losing your mind”:

1. Spare credit card
2. Spare ID
3. Cash — enough for tacos, a tank of gas, and one terrible motel room

The spares don’t have to be anything too fancy. An extra credit card with a low annual fee or an extra debit card for a different bank account will work just fine. When you get a passport, spend the extra $60 for a passport card. It is a federal ID card that can be used to travel domestically on airlines in the United States. An extra $100 to $300 can help set you up for a couple of days with food and possibly lodging if the absolute worst case scenario comes around.

Keep these in a second location. Not your backpack. Not your hotel safe. Think weird pocket in your jacket, or under the liner of your carry-on. Pretend you’re smuggling secrets across Cold War borders. Because if you lose everything else, this stash keeps you in the game.

Also: memorize one phone number. Preferably someone who you would trust to help you out of s sticky spot. Write it on paper. Don’t be the person crying at a gas station because they only know their mom’s name as “Mom”.

IMPROVISE A WEAPON (OR AT LEAST LOOK LIKE YOU COULD)

No, we’re not telling you to carry a machete. But walking with purpose and looking alert can make you a much less exciting target. Confidence is armor.

That said, there are some fun travel hacks here:

• Metal water bottle = blunt object
• Cheap box cutter= sharp and to the point
• Flashlight = can’t see, can’t harm
• Backpack straps = choking hazard (for them, not you)

Hell, even holding your phone sideways like you’re filming can make someone back off. Predators don’t like witnesses. Or tripods.

Cutting Edge Technology

Let’s talk box cutters. You can find them at most gas stations, hardware stores, and those weird aisles in grocery stores that sell duct tape next to marshmallows. They’re cheap, compact, and can be gripped with enough force to ruin someone’s night if things go sideways.

Here’s the kicker: they can be disassembled and packed in your carry-on — without the blade. Keep the handle. Buy new blades at your destination. Simple. Useful. Sharp.

In the wrong hands, box cutters are dangerous. But in the right hands (yours, ideally), they are still dangerous, but to other people…hopefully. It gives you a little bit of a pocket surprise.

But none of this matters if you don’t walk like you mean it. Shoulders back. Eyes scanning. Head on a swivel, but never twitchy. The goal is simple: don’t look like prey.And carry a big stick…or a box-cutter.

SKIP THE RIOTS

Look — protests can be beautiful, powerful things. They’re also chaotic, sometimes violent, and rarely a place for out-of-towners with expensive cameras and no exit strategy.

If you see a crowd forming, go the other way. If helicopters start circling, that’s your cue. If your Uber can’t drop you off because “the streets are blocked,” cancel dinner. Eat a burrito. Watch from the hotel bar. This isn’t your moment.

Want to help? Donate. Vote. Listen. But don’t wander into the fire for the ‘gram. No one needs a selfie with a SWAT van.

Also: if you’re traveling during an election, double-check the dates. Certain cities get hot. Plan accordingly. And maybe don’t book that hotel next to the state capitol during a national crisis.

THE MOST DANGEROUS THING IS COMPLACENCY

Here’s the truth no influencer tells you: the most useful safety tool is your instinct. If something feels off, it probably is. Don’t overthink it. Don’t worry about being rude.

Cross the street. Leave the bar. Cancel the ride. Say no. Shut the door. Ask for help. People might roll their eyes — but you’ll still have both kidneys.

Safety isn’t about living in fear. It’s about keeping the music going, so the story doesn’t stop early. And honestly, isn’t that why you started traveling in the first place?

TRAVEL SAFE OR TRAVEL STUPID

You could ignore all this. You could float through your trip like some trust-fund ghoul in a feathered poncho, smiling at everyone and assuming the world is full of gluten-free love and rooftop wine bars.

Or…

You could keep your eyes open, your phone charged, your escape route memorized, and your box cutter uncomfortably close to your thigh. You could walk into that alley because you want to — not because some smiling stranger with a lisp and a limp suggested it.

This isn’t about fear. It’s about traveling like someone who’s been around. Someone who’s lit a fire with stolen paper towels, seen a man throw a shoe at a raccoon in Chicago, and once woke up next to a grilled cheese sandwich they didn’t remember ordering.

So go. Explore. Taste everything. But stay sharp. Because adventure is only fun when you make it back to tell the story.

Venture On.