I hated the uncertainty of postgrad life and job hunting. One wild road trip with my mom helped me stop worrying so much.

• A few months after finishing college, I went on a 10-day road trip in a rented van with my mom.
• We made a rough itinerary, but we left room for spontaneous sidequests, picnics, and polar plunges.
• The adventure taught me to embrace the unpredictability and uncertainty of postgrad life.

Right after graduating from college, I struggled to celebrate my newfound freedom.

The full-time job I was searching for didn’t materialize as quickly as I thought it would. My once-populated Google calendar, a beacon of structure and routine as a student, stared blankly back at me.

So, given my lack of plans and ever-increasing stress, when my mom asked me to join her on a road trip from Montana to California in a rented van, I was eager to block off some days and couldn’t say yes fast enough. Plus, the adventure would commemorate not only my graduation but also her recent retirement.

I made sure to pack my laptop for the 10-day excursion. After weeks of obsessively applying to jobs, I thought I’d feel unmoored without it and want to check the status of my applications from the road.

However, by the end of the trip, it had mostly stayed shut.

We embraced unpredictability while on the road

My mom and I didn’t have a pre-planned itinerary from our arrival onward — we simply made a rough wish list of the places we wanted to see before our rental drop-off in Los Angeles.

On our first long drive from Montana toward the coast of Oregon, we stopped overnight in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, at the suggestion of a fisherman we met on our travels, and took part in a polar plunge — something we wouldn’t have done if we hadn’t stumbled upon this place.

Since we never had firm plans for the trip, we simply ate when hunger struck rather than holding out for the perfect reservation, which led to many unforgettable dining side quests.

While in Oregon, we worked our way through a legendary plate-sized cinnamon roll south of Cannon Beach, sampled local cheeses in Tillamook, and drove up a winding road to pick cherries in the Columbia River Gorge.

It was also easy to spontaneously pull off little picnic adventures when everything we needed — including a kitchen — was on wheels with us.

The unpredictability of our plans was easy to embrace, but van life was still sometimes uncomfortable, though new environments often are.

One night, a thunderstorm rocked the sky while I slept in the van’s pop-up tent. Showering in communal campsite bathrooms reminded me of the early days of college, when I transitioned to a new and unfamiliar routine.

The constant pivots of our spontaneous trip also meant spending some nights in gravelly RV parks over the storybook scenic vistas we’d pictured. But it also meant we could stop to rest when we needed to, and linger in the places that felt right.

It may have been challenging at times, but living in the van made me realize that even though unfamiliar surroundings can be unsettling, they don’t necessarily have to be scary.

I still don’t know what my postgrad life will look like, but that doesn’t worry me anymore

Overall, traveling with my mom taught me to tolerate uncertainty and not take things so seriously.

In a Sinclair gas station parking lot between destinations, I scrolled through job boards and scrambled to send emails on spotty cell service.

Instead of stressing out, my mom urged me to get out of the car and take a selfie with the plastic dinosaur.

When we reached the rainforests and coasts of Oregon, our conversations about the future meandered like Highway 101. In the midst of one chat, we pulled off to hike down the Restless Waters Trail. We watched chaotic waves heave and crash wildly against a jagged gulch of volcanic rock.

Like the course of our road trip, they changed direction unpredictably.

After one humbling morning among giants in Redwood National Park in California, we stopped at the aptly named Confusion Hill, a kitschy historic attraction that announced itself with giant question marks nailed to towering trees.

We stumbled through its rickety optical-illusion Gravity House until we were unsure of which way was up. It was a laughingly literal manifestation of the way I’d been feeling since crossing the stage and receiving my diploma.

However, for the first time since graduation, my uncertainty felt thrilling.

When we reached Los Angeles, I still hadn’t figured out my future plans. In fact, after countless deep conversations, I was more unsure than when we started.

Even though my postgrad timeline hadn’t gone as planned, it let me go on a precious adventure with my mom, returning home renewed and ready to reopen my laptop.

For me, the road ahead will be winding and unpredictable. But as my mom would say, that’s the most exciting part.