Turning the Page

You may have noticed a lag in posts recently. This post is a step back to before San Diego to explain that whole situation.  We were delayed in our trip (and in blog posting) due to an unfortunate incident in the desert on the way to the Grand Canyon. We had been driving from Santa Fe with a quick stop in Durango, Colorado, down to Four Corners, and all the way through Monument Valley before we got to magnificent, world-famous Page, Arizona. When we first saw Page, we were actually overjoyed to finally be in civilization after so many hours in barren Arizona Indian reservations. Little did we know that we would soon come to see Page not as a glittering city on a hill, but as the fiery, soul-sucking hellscape that it really was.

After camping that night, we set off for the Grand Canyon along the route suggested by our trusty GPS. We hit a portion of the highway that was unexpectedly closed due to landslide, so we flagged down a passing Navajo to ask for directions to an alternate route. He unconfidently told us that he thought there was some sort of dirt road that went around the closed portion of the road, so we took his directions and completely went for it. We were alright for a good ways until a patch of very loose sand, where we decided to try and forge through to keep from getting stuck. The car bucked and jumped all the way through the sand, and continued to do so after we got onto flat road. We immediately suspected transmission problems, and hoped it was literally anything else. We limped back into town in first gear, which took about an hour, and headed to a mechanic, who gave us the bad news: our “sun shell(???)” was broken. In addition to the fact that the transmission needed to be replaced, the shop was closed on weekends, so we were stuck in Page for at least 4 (which later turned into 5) days.

Page is probably my least favorite place in the world. If I were going to compare it to something, which is in fact what I am going to do, I would say it is much like a parasite that lives inside a rat which in turn lives in the filthiest, most disgusting dumpster in the dirtiest, most vile place imaginable. It’s oppressively hot there, and there is very close to nothing at all to do, especially without a car. The local bar/bowling alley had a few cool people to talk to, but that only goes so far. We saw Man of Steel two days in a row. We probably gave Taco Bell their best week since they introduced the Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco. We played so much ball-in-a-cup that I increased my record for consecutive cups to 42 (shout out to Carly for gifting us that second BIAC). Page probably isn’t the worst place in the world, but it doesn’t have a lot going for it.

On our third day in Page, we decided to walk down to Lake Powell, which looked like it was probably a twenty or so minute walk. We walked through pure desert landscape for about an hour and a half before getting to a cliff that was still a ways from the lake. We didn’t bring any water with us, so the walk back was the most grueling experience of my life. I’m pretty sure I almost died. The water we got at the Denny’s on the edge of town was the sweetest, coldest, most refreshing substance I’ve ever tasted.

Our fifth day in Page was a good day, mostly because we got to leave. The car was the most comfortable that it had ever been after so much camping and having to walk everywhere. Driving again was euphoric, especially accompanied by the beautiful, underappreciated feeling of not being in Page.

Since we had spent so much unexpected time in Page, we had to cut a lot of nights that we had planned to spend elsewhere and reroute more directly to San Diego. As a result we decided to do a speed-tour of the Southwest, first stopping at the breathtaking North Rim of the Grand Canyon. We spent about an hour there hiking around and taking pictures before getting back on the road to Las Vegas. We got into Vegas around 12:30 AM (where we quickly ran into our old classmate Katy Anderson) and did maybe the fastest Vegas run that has ever happened, getting out by 2 with everyone solidly in the black. After the greatest showing of self-control ever seen by man or beast, we left on the way to San Diego, finally arriving at Ned’s place at around 7 AM, pretty much back on schedule. Though it would have been nice to have spent all the time we originally wanted to in the Southwest, it was definitely a uniquely fun experience to speed through and just get a small taste of what the region had to offer, kind of like an even more distilled version of the trip as a whole.  -J

The Real Name is "Pissin' Across America"

June 19-20-21, 2013

As the final bags were packed away for the summer in San Diego, Part Two (the far superior half) was just beginning. Far superior of course, because I joined up with the rest of the crew and filled up the Suburban with my own unique ability to call everybody out on literally everything (thanks a lot, Jackson). This is my maiden post on our journey, with plenty more posts and photos to follow over the next three weeks.

The rest of the guys finally arrived at my door on Wednesday morning, knocking on the door for a half hour at 7am before I finally woke up and let them in. All of us equally groggy, the path to sleep was met with little resistance. That afternoon, after a little packing and an attempt to finish fixing the car, we hopped into the Suburban and went off to see a bit of SD. A San Diego favorite, I simply had to take them to get California burritos (for those of you who have never tasted the delicious symphony that is a California burrito, it is generally a carne asada burrito with guacamole and french fries). They wanted to see downtown, so I took them to Lucha Libre (as seen on Man vs. Food and a popular luchador-themed taco shop) and we got our dinner. We headed downtown and saw some of the local nightlife before heading back to hang out with some of my UCSD friends before we went north.

The next day we drove up to Los Angeles, where we planned to stay the night in Burbank with a friend of mine from school. On our way north, we stopped in San Clemente for lunch to get burritos at Olamendi’s- quickly usurping the spot of “Jackson’s Best Burrito” from Lucha Libre the night before. Agree to disagree, I suppose. We made a short stop in Hermosa Beach to watch Game 7 of the NBA Finals and also meet up with one of Alex’s friends who was having a birthday before continuing on to Burbank for the night. (Special thanks to the Escobar house for their generous hospitality!) Friday morning we left Burbank and, after a short detour through LA to see Warner Brothers Studio and the Hollywood sign, we began looking for PCH and headed north. We caught the coast around Morro Bay and drove along Highway 1 for 120 miles of awesome splendor. Jagged rocks cut up from the sea to our left and ragged hills rose to our right, the late-afternoon sun catching it all perfectly. Rolling hills covered in golden grasses and dotted with the occasional tree or herd of cattle, majestic vistas at every turn. Leighton and I were in control of the radio, so the music was undeniably Phishy and served as the perfect soundtrack to such a beautiful landscape. We spent the night in Monterey, crammed into a small motel room and under the watchful eye of the woman manning the front desk. Monterey as a town was quiet, perhaps we missed the excitement or perhaps it is simply a sleepy town. We stopped into Sly McFly’s for a drink, and the “World Famous Jazz & Blues” venue was full of middle-aged energy led by a pretty talented cover band. Too tired to stay until last call, we headed back to the motel and turned in for the night. -N

Dump 'Em! or, How we learned to stop worrying and love the bomb.

After leaving the swamp country outside of Baton Rouge we headed on west towards Texas. Texas and the rest of the southwest is a region that has always excited me for its near mythical associations. Growing up addicted to Cowboy vs. Indian lore, and watching the smooth talking, quick shooting characters of John Wayne movies, Texas and the wide open West was a place I had often heard about but never experienced for myself. Coming over a ridge on I-10, the sprawling plains of Texas unfolded before me and after almost two weeks, we had left the southeast behind us, and were on wholly unfamiliar ground.

                We made a quick stop at a local Burger Joint on the outskirts of Houston and were back underway to Austin. Though the area was going through a drought, we managed to get caught in three torrential downpours. Earlier in the trip we used a makeshift tarp (a classic red and white picnic tablecloth) to cover our overhead carrier and keep rain out. After thousands of miles of driving and weather it had been tattered to shreds and rain soaked our overhead supplies.

                Finally coming out of the rain, we checked into our Motel 6 on the northern edge of Austin (with only two guests of course). We have gotten into somewhat of a routine checking into our base camps after two weeks on the road. After lugging our suitcases up a few sets of stairs and throwing the door open, someone checks for the requisite towel number (3 of course) then as a group there is a period of complaining (or praising) for the lack of amenities (“What, we don’t get a spa at this place? $50 just doesn’t get you what it used to. THREE DOLLARS FOR WIFI?!”). For the most part, though, we are more than satisfied with our two beds, a shower and the ability to stay in one place for a little bit. So we kick back, relax, talk about the drive and figure out what exactly we want to do that night.

                Being in Austin, we knew that meant checking out the world-famous 6^th Street, by way of a taco or two. We found our way to a little food truck called The Art of Tacos, nestled into a little side street called Rainey Street, where the houses have been converted into restaurants and bars and ropes of Christmas lights hang from poles and wires that criss-cross the yards. We were very struck by the abundance of food trucks in the city, and in this area in particular. The trucks all come together and form makeshift villages where people starting or ending their nights all seem to congregate. It is a great atmosphere where strangers sit together, and everyone has something to say.

                In an attempt to digest our meals we took a walk down by the Colorado river then up to the Texas Capitol building, a southwestern take on the classic dome we are so used to seeing. 6^th street was getting pretty packed by the time we showed up. Unlike Nashville which was busy and bustling where you could get run over by throngs of people if you didn’t know where you were going, 6^th street had a laid back feel, especially considering the hoards of people. The music was diverse and there were tons of options, the people were fun yet classy (I’m looking at you New Orleans), and it made for a great night.

                We got a rare opportunity to sleep in the next day, and took full advantage, eventually pulling ourselves up to go to a nearby thrift store (I don’t know if everything is bigger in Texas but this sure was). We scored a couple sweet new road shirts and headed out to enjoy some Texas BBQ, heavy with some tender brisket, thick, saucy ribs and probably the best sausage we have ever had. It was enough to put us down for a little bit and it was a bit of a struggle to get back up for the evening.

                Austin has a pretty lively arts and entertainment scene, and there was almost too much to decide between, with concerts, stand-up comedy and film screenings. We settled on an evening showing of “Singing in the Rain,” a 1950’s musical comedy that Chris had never seen. It was being shown at a wonderful place, the Paramount Theater on Congress Ave. It’s a classic movie and playhouse, with an old-fashioned box office, ushers wearing tuxes, gilded box seats lining the walls and complete with a large red curtain covering the screen. The audience was full of old fans, parents showing their children the movie for the first time (and what a place for it!) and young people like us looking for a good time on a Sunday night. Everyone cheered as the curtain was drawn back, clapped after each song and laughed at the right times.

                The next day we cooled off at Barton Springs pool, a natural pool with clear water, seaweed along the bottom, and sunbathers lining the hills that border the pool. I imagine we could have spent all day there but our friend Andy Lutz and his girlfriend Katherine had just returned from an extended trip to South America and we all were eager to meet up. They showed us around the University of Texas then took us to a place called Trudy’s, a Mexican restaurant, where Jackson and I agreed we had the best nachos we’d ever had (we’re somewhat of nacho aficionados). After a few drinks, some solid catching up time and a marathon of corn hole games outside a nearly empty bar we called it a night, crashing for free on Andy’s floor and woke up ready to make our way west, traversing the desert on our way to California.--A 

Louisiana Fast

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After a couple of days spent camping on the Gulf Coast, it was time to hit New Orleans. We got into town fairly early and immediately headed down to Bourbon Street to check out what all the hype was about. It was a busy place even in the early afternoon on a Thursday, and we quickly noticed that the specialty drink being offered was the daiquiri, of which many different locations dubiously claimed to be selling the “world’s strongest.” We gave the street a quick walk and then headed to the less famous areas to see what the city was really like.

The other areas of the city were more relaxed, cheaper, and had more live music and street vendors. We had been eager to see these side streets for a while, specifically because several people in previous places that we stayed in had told us specifically not to go there. Any time we brought up that we were headed to New Orleans, people immediately got very serious and told us we needed to be careful and that it was a dangerous place, especially once you left the main drag. We were skeptical of this advice, and naturally did the exact opposite, making sure to get a taste of the whole city. Of course, once it got late, we headed back to Bourbon Street to catch the main nightlife action, listen to some blues, and get the classic Nawlins experience that we’ve heard so much about.

On the food front, New Orleans had a lot to offer. We made a point of getting to the Café du Monde early for a pile of beignets and café au lait. We also got various po boys at the Acme Oyster bar, roadside jambalaya for a snack, and right before leaving on Friday we grabbed a few muffuletta sandwiches for the road from Central Grocery. New Orleans fed us better than anywhere else before it.

The next day, we spent a little time in Baton Rouge with our friend Andrew Perkins, who goes to LSU. We got some crawfish (which were slightly out of season but delicious) and took a quick tour of the LSU campus. We called it a night fairly early after a few shenanigans and got ready for the long drive to Austin in the morning. -J

Two Days on the Beach

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Our departure for Pensacola, Florida began with Jackson, Leighton and myself heftily criticizing our fellow road tripper Alex regarding the group decision to venture into the state of Florida, and even worse, into a city which we were unfamiliar with. When it comes to the state of Florida it's very simple to think of Orlando, Miami, retirees, and sunshine. However, there is much more that the biggest peninsula in the United States has to offer other than sunshine and house music.

Passing through Mississippi, I got lost in the book I was reading so from time to time I was able to catch glimpses of the farm country that characterizes the open fields that pioneers once walked upon. Chance struck when I lifted my head and was surprised by the sight of a group of pelicans flying horizontally with the skyline underlined by an endless blue field coated with white ripples of the waves that mark the ocean. The thick white clouds complimented the sight splendidly as we crossed the bridge that overlooks the gulf coast and passes into the city of Pensacola. It was official, we had reached our destination.

             Cue the tourist friendly hotels, white sand beaches, and shacks on the beach and you have the beginnings that are apparent in your average beach town down in the state of Florida. This portion of the trip had us returning to camping so the days consisted of the beautiful simplicity of camp fires and light cooking.  After setting up camp we spent a night on the beach appreciating some tunes provided by a local reggae/hip-hop fusion band which was putting on a concert. The night concluded with some late night stargazing by the water.

 The next day took us to Dauphin Island, also known to us as “Dolph Lundgren Island,” which can be found on the coast of Alabama, conveniently located just to the west of Pensacola. Getting to the island required us to take a ferry which featured sights of some immense drilling machines that looked as if they were from the future. Once we were set up on the island it was not long before we took ourselves for a day trip to the beach where we caught some amazing water shots with Alex’s GoPro. After a few hours and a bit too much sun, Leighton, Alex, Jackson and I prepared some dinner and concluded our night with a screening of the David Lynch classic Blue Velvet. As the others fell one by one to sleep, I slowly closed my eyes to the sounds of the crickets and the occasional rusting of the friendly neighborhood raccoon.

Going back to the stereotypical description that goes along with cities in Florida, I place great emphasis on the importance of getting away from the typical tourist hotel and dance club that can be so popular in the southern beach cities. To conclude our brief two day camping adventure I must say: Alex, we couldn’t have been more wrong. -C

Background Info

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For those unfamiliar with the particulars of our trip, the general idea is to get a small taste of the diversity that our country has to offer. We've drafted a schedule that takes us all around the edge of the country to places that we felt were representative of a large portion of the country's culture, cuisine, and landscape. We want to get a feel for as many of the country’s major cities, scenic byways, small towns, and The schedule is somewhat flexible as we go along it, but in general we're spending around two weeks in each quadrant of the country, for a total of around 54 days. We started off in Leighton’s ’98 Suburban in Alexandria, VA headed south. After Savannah we started to head west across the southern portion of the country all the way to San Diego to pick up another member of the trip, then north along the PCH to Seattle, east to New England, and then back home to Virginia. We have taken some nice film and photography equipment to document the trip, and, as you can see, we’ll be blogging all along the way.

The four of us currently on the trip are Jackson, Alex, Chris, and Leighton, and once we get to San Diego we’ll add Ned. Alex and Leighton are our film/photography guys, having recently gotten their film degrees. Jackson provides a more analytical perspective as an Econ major still in school. Chris is an entertaining character who adds some fun to the group, and Ned’s a budding environmental scientist who’ll make sure to call us out when we do something stupid.

We plan to make at least one post for each location of the trip, though internet constraints may prevent us from actually posting anything for certain periods of time, especially when camping. Also, we can only post photos when we have free wifi because they would use up a lot of data very quickly. We plan to make a separate photo blog soon, which we will link to from here, for all the pictures we like that don’t fit into this blog. Anything else will probably go on Facebook or never be seen by human eyes again. -J

Part 1

Part 2

Day 7 - Pistol Packin' Mama

            We awoke bright and early in our luxurious St. Louis pad to snap some obligatory photos of the gateway arch before hitting the road towards Memphis. 

  The long straight stretches of southern highway have been exceedingly scenic; the land is so open and cars so scarce that it’s easy to lose track of time and speed.  We spent a good leg of the trip on the historic and illustrious Highway 61, making sure to listen to some Bob Dylan along the way.

            Before we hit Memphis we decided to make a detour to Elvis Presley’s mansion, Graceland.  Having failed to research the price of a mansion tour, we realized it was far outside of our budget.  Instead, we meandered through the mass of Elvis themed gift shops to marvel at the sorts of items and trinkets someone thought to adorn with Elvis’ face.  After Jackson picked up yet another collectible spoon, we left for Memphis. 

            Memphis is a large sprawling city, and on first sight it was pretty depressing.  Our motel was located a couple miles away from the downtown area, and although it was in a relatively safe area, the expanses of abandoned industrial buildings and broken windows created a pretty bleak atmosphere.  We checked in, and decided to go look at the Lorraine Motel where Martin Luther King Jr. was shot, which has since been turned into a Civil Rights Museum. 

            After the museum, we pigged out on some good Memphis ribs and headed down to Beale Street, the music hotspot.  As soon as we got close to the downtown area we could hear the blues and funk blaring, and we started to get the real feel of Memphis.  We hopped between nearly empty bars (it was a Monday night) and got to hear several different bands, all with a distinctly awesome flavor to them, and none were shy to ask for donations.  My personal favorite was “The Dr. Feelgood Potts Band.”  The doctor himself was an older man wearing a belt containing no fewer than 20 harmonicas.  Between songs, he described his inspiration for one of the tracks on his new CD – “I was downtown one night…  And I just thought to myself… Pistol packin’ mama!  And so… I named this song…  Pistol packin’ mama!”  To which a member of the audience replied “SOUNDS LIKE MY EX-WIFE!”

            Memphis was awesome, tomorrow we roll out for Pensacola. -L

On a side note, we need a good Internet connection to add photos, so there will probably usually be a delay between posts and the pictures that go with them.

The Worst City in the World

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Leaving Nashville, we got on the road early and hit the long, straight, flat highways that permeate Middle America. We hit 4 states along the drive: Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, and, of course, Missouri. Our first destination was the Anheuser-Busch factory for a free tour. This was much harder to get to than I expected, because apparently St. Louis doesn’t believe in having drivable streets or working stoplights.

Whoever created this road system must have consulted in the Northern Virginia area, because getting lost seems to immediately take you across the river to the very seedy East St. Louis, in the same way that every wrong turn in Virginia seems to lead to PG County. Several of the stoplights were just flashing red, which to the people of St. Louis apparently meant to tentatively inch fully into the intersection and then finally go through when it’s obvious that nobody else will. It is hands down the least navigable city that I’ve ever been to.

Once we finally found it, the Anheuser-Busch factory was a fun place. The tour itself was very mechanical, mostly a list of large numbers and historic events. The factory was a mix of old timey robber-baron industrialism and modern assembly lines, giving the feel that we’d just won a golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s beer factory. The best part was the end, where each tour member got to have 2 free beers at the bar. Definitely worth the price.

In the evening, we went out on the town and happened upon another group of road trippers from Brooklyn. They had a much different strategy from us, having left New York the same day they decided to do the trip. They were interesting characters, one of whom claimed to be a prolific graffiti artist who tagged things “EM.” He at one point considered tagging “that big arch thing over there” until we informed him that it might not be a very good idea. They were also on their way to Memphis, and we exchanged numbers, so we may well see them again on the trip.

Thanks again to the Priceline Negotiator®, we scored a hotel room that was without a doubt the best we’ve stayed in thus far, located as close as physically possible to the Arch.

It was 4 stars, so everything was very high quality, though there were fewer free amenities than some of the other places we’ve stayed. The highlight of the night was definitely when I made two ball-in-a-cups at once, amazingly caught on film in its entirety (coming soon to youtube). Overall, St. Louis was able to overcome the bad first impression, but if I never return here, I’ll be satisfied. Memphis tomorrow should be better. -J

Music City Madness

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Nashville somehow managed to be even more fun than Savannah. After departing the Smoky Mountains, we made our way to Nashville by way of the Jack Daniel’s distillery in Lynchburg and Alex’s old house just outside Nashville. We took a free tour of the distillery, which was highly informative and entertaining. Our tour guide was a 30ish bearded guy in a cowboy hat and boots, who talked with a deep cowboy drawl, sort of like Sam Elliott. They can’t legally sell alcohol on the premises, but at the end of the tour, the guide instructed us that we could take advantage of a loophole and buy a “commemorative bottle” that happens to also have whiskey in it.

Once we got to Nashville, we went out to the main drag, Broadway, which was busy all night.  Our friend and future president John Rice just graduated from Vanderbilt so he gave us some recommendations for places to go, so we walked around to those places and tried to find one that we enjoyed . There was music playing wherever we went; many intersections had tiny speakers attached to the telephone polls that played music continuously. We enjoyed some live music at a couple of the bars and had a good time mingling with the other patrons, then headed back to our room after a quick stop at the best hotdog stand I’ve ever been to, run by a lady who Alex fell in love with at first sight.

Nashville showed us a great time. Next stop: St. Louis. -J

Day 4: Big Smoke Candy Mountains

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Our fourth stop on the trip had us pumping the brakes a little bit and driving out to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park for a night of camping. Saying goodbye to Savannah was tough, but we’ve got a schedule to stick to, so tough decisions had to be made. Luckily, we started the day off with complimentary waffles, so by 9:00 AM it was already a good day.

We spent most of the day on country roads, with a quick stop in Asheville, NC to walk around and look for any commemorative spoons that were available to be had (which there weren’t for some reason).

Leighton and Alex in Asheville

After we got into Cosby, Tennessee, we started looking for a market of some sort in order to buy hot dogs, since we have to buy perishable items as close to their time of use as possible. After stopping at several closed shops with prominently displayed OPEN signs, we stopped at a small shack with a few locals milling about outside and a sign that said GROCERIES. We asked the people outside, who were the proprietors, if they had any hot dogs, and it turned out that they didn’t sell any groceries there at all! Apparently they place little value in accurate signage in Cosby. The store owners convinced us to stay for a minute to try their recently cooked barbecued pork (served out of the window of the small, separate “kitchen” by a woman who had what appeared to be track-marks up her right arm), and they asked what we were up to for the night. They pointed out that since the campgrounds were federal property, we should make sure we weren’t up to anything illegal, then offered their backyard as a potential alternative. I’m pretty sure they were implying that we could do drugs with them (very likely meth). Suffice it to say, we turned down their offer and immediately left, seeing as we all knew how Deliverance turned out (and Wrong Turn, and The Hills Have Eyes, and Requiem for a Dream for that matter).

 After all that excitement, we drove around for a while, got our hot dogs, and set up camp. Camping was fairly relaxing after our time in the city, but we are still fairly inexperienced, as evidenced by the crunchy, undercooked rice we mixed with our chili (plus several secret ingredients). By the end of the trip we'll have a pretty sweet chili-and-rice recipe. As for the next stop, I’m excited to hit Nashville Saturday evening. -J