(Originally published Thursday, October 27, 2011) Not long after the USGP at Mazda Raceway Laguna Seca that July, Marco Simoncelli and his family spent their summer break in the United States. For anyone who has seen the Italian Riviera, ridden the Alps near Como, or floated through Venice, it might seem odd—if not ironic—that Italians would choose to spend their holidays driving endless two-lane highways or sitting on steel chairs disguised as wood when, back home, 3,000 years of history surrounds them at every turn.

In truth, though, the USA has long been a popular destination for Italian travelers. In 2007, I stood inside a villa in Italy, its walls more than 500 years old, and listened as a woman eagerly described her plan to take a month off to drive the entire length of Route 66, staying in roadside motels and eating at “Kentucky Frying Chicken.”

What draws Italians to USA is not something you can put your finger on. This is the land that gave the world Elvis and rock and roll, a place where they can escape cramped city life and live, if only briefly, beneath skies that seem as wide as the universe itself.

So it was that “Sic”—along with his girlfriend Kate, his parents Paolo and Rossella, and his sister Martina—set off on a classic American summer road trip, a Griswold-like epic tour through the great national parks of the West.

What Marco and his family didn’t know then—nor did anyone else—was that this would be the last family vacation he would ever take. That truth makes the photos from this trip all the more poignant.

With Laguna Seca behind him, the family traveled through Sequoia National Park, Yosemite, Death Valley, the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, and Zion. Marco drove a bright-red Jeep and relished the vast American landscapes. Too often, Grand Prix and World Superbike riders see little more than airports, hotels, and racetracks.

But Simoncelli wanted to see America. He was genuinely a fan of the country. The crew at Indianapolis Motor Speedway still remember how delighted they were when he arrived for the FIM’s official recognition of his 250cc world title—wearing an Indy 500 T-shirt.

“He reminded me of a rider from 30 years ago,” recalls long-time Italian journalist and Simoncelli family friend Paolo Scalera. “In some ways, he was very typical of today’s youth, but in other ways, he was different. He cared about the experience, about the journey.”

With his trademark big hair and athlete’s build, Simoncelli stood out anywhere in the world. Fans recognized him even in remote corners of the U.S. And he loved it all: the national parks, the freeways, the carny-looking waitresses in small-town diners. At Indianapolis, he and his crew often ate at Denny’s—not every night, but often enough to become regulars. Picture them at a big table, uniforms still on, credentials dangling from their necks, plates piled high with burgers, eggs, and chicken-fried steaks, all of them talking a mile a minute in Italian.

There was nothing “Little Italy” about Simoncelli. For Super Sic, there was nothing little about America.

Now, those photos feel like postcards from the edge. They are vivid reminders of just how fleeting and precious life is. Knowing what we know now, it’s comforting to see how happy Marco was during those moments. He embraced life fully, and he never hid it.

Even as global superstardom beckoned, he remained deeply connected to his family, never drifting far from his roots—even when chasing dreams an ocean away. That closeness will sustain Paolo, Rossella, Kate, and Martina in the difficult days ahead, as the shock of loss gives way to the long ache of absence.

The memories of Marco—the racer, the son, the brother, the young man who loved America—will endure.

Ciao, Marco.