The Wild Wild West, Days 11-12
I set out from Arizona Wednesday morning and managed to make it to
Flagstaff, AZ without much incident. Not terribly exciting at all. I
wanted to see Sunset Crater National Park in the morning, so I camped
a few miles away. Got myself some firewood, some stuff to grill, and
pitched a tent.. which was not as easy as it should have been...
Sunset Crater is a crater that appeared almost a thousand years ago,
and volcanic activity created a cinder cone in it. As I understand
it, the whole area's rocks are volcanic in nature. Which makes the
ground kinda pebbly. Which makes my tent, which isn't freestanding,
which I've never had a problem with before because of decent soil,
very unstable. MikeLo, good call on the freestanding one you bought.
I finally got it up after much negotiating (the pebble ground wasn't
actually all that bad to sleep on, they were small enough that they
just kind of moved around me), and got a six pack of something local
from a gas station. I think it was the "Nimbus Pale Ale" from Tucson.
While I was sitting around my fire waiting for the coals to bake
through, an elderly German woman came up to me from a neighboring
campsite.
[Sidenote: State and National Park campgrounds are often almost
entirely populated with old people in RV's. I was the only basic
camper there. They're usually retired, always very nice, and love
telling you about their grandkids. It's the best thing ever.]
Anyway, Margaret (that was her name) had come over to give me a little
electric lamp because I had been using my Maglite to cook by. When I
say give, I mean give, she didn't want it back. I tried giving her a
beer, or some food, and all she wanted was to give me the lamp. We
talked for a while, and I found out that her and her husband are
retired teachers, she taught art and German language (here in America,
of course) and are travelling around the Southwest in an RV that they
bought here. I tried to call the Sharp Edge to wish everyone a Happy
Wednesday, but apparently no service in those mountains. Sorry guys,
maybe next week.
When I woke up in the morning around 8am, I felt a strong wind. On
intuition, I got everything out of my tent and packed it back up the
car. Went to the bathroom to freshen, came back, and sure enough my
shaky tent had collapsed. Great timing, I must say. I packed up the
tent, and it started pouring just as I finished. Made it into the
car, found a local radio station, and after half an hour found out the
rain wouldn't stop until mid afternoon. Bad luck, good timing, but my
hike to the Crater was obviously cancelled. I got an oil change
(driven more than 3000 miles already!), and headed west on I-40. I
hit a high of 107 degrees, but luckily didn't have any of the problems
K2 and Jenna did.
Driving through Arizona was incredible. There are some things that I
just can't describe through words. Like, I know why "burnt sienna" is
a crayon now. I understand what they mean by, "purple mountain
majesty". The desert is just a very wild place. I even saw my first
tumbleweed. There are pictures, hopefully when I get to San Francisco
I can get my rolls developed and online..
Funny story: between Arizona and California, there are "Agricultural
Checkpoints" to make sure you're not transporting plants, animals,
fruits or vegetables between states. I told them I wasn't, the guy
asked me to pop the back so he could look around, and before I could
he noticed just how much crap I have in the car and waved me through.
I could hav smuggled anything.
Less funny story: if you're ever travelling in the desert of
Arid-zone-a, here's a tip:
Every time you stop for the bathroom, water, or gas, fill the other
two as well. Never take any of them for granted, and even keep a
container of water that you don't touch somewhere for emergencies.
Especially when you make the border crossing; I was real happy I
wasn't forced into the first couple Cali gas stops; prices jumped 50
cents a gallon between states until I hit Barstow, CA about two hours
in.
I hit Barstow and my solid Interstate 40 became sketchy Cali State
road 58. This "highway" would frequently become one lane roads. At
one point there was "construction" for miles that closed either the
left or right lanes. I was wildly tempted to do some slaloms between
cones, especially after I passed a cop, parked, with his lights on,
with white ipod wires coming from his ears, completely passed out. At
any rate, I stopped off for lunch in Bakersfield and looked at my maps
and travel guide again. I realized that I-5 was going to be through
more arid desert, and I honestly couldn't do any more of that after
two days and about a dozen hours of driving through it. I also saw
that CA-58 would hit the coast eventually, but it would be better to
spend the night in San Luis Obispo than in a directly coastal town,
because it's summer and beaches are wild pricey in the summer. Thus
began an adventure..
CA-58 is a back road at best. Sure it was on my map. Sure it looks
like it's 70 miles long and therefore only about an hour. What
actually happened i'm not sure I can describe without a topographical
map, a compass, and a gun.
Begin by going here: http://www.snipurl.com/vrou Realize how far
zoomed out you are, and how winding it looks. Most of you know how
tight my car's turning radius is, even at a high speed.. I had to slow
to 30mph for an hour to make these switchbacks.
I entered into this barren wasteland. It was the first time I was
actually fearful during this trip. All of these things I saw within
the first half an hour: an eighteen wheeler blowout a tire because of
heat alone, a sign saying "$1000 fine for littering" that was shot
full of holes, a beat up pickup truck that had fallen off the winding
road I was driving on and was about 500 feet below me, a sign that
actually said "watch for blowing dust", and a cowboy standing next to
his pick up, talking with another cowboy, both with rifles on their
shoulders.
At first I was honestly worried about banditos. Then I realized that
there was no way my roadside assistance service could reach me in more
than two hours. Then I realized I wouldn't even be able to call them
because my cell wouldn't work that far out in the middle of nowhere.
Then I said, "Fuck it", kicked it into fourth gear, put on some Allman
Brothers, and took those badlands for all they were worth at 65 miles
an hour (after coming out of the mountains of course). No lie, I came
around one corner and every cow in a herd stopped munching, looked up
at me, and if I've ever interpreted any animal expression at all, they
said, "What the hell are YOU doing here?" There were points where a
three way crossroad would exist, and I would have to guess which
direction CA-58 continued on. I passed a school, "Carrissa High
School, Home of the Polecats"; it was just one building, a couple
trees, and an electric generator. In a particularly slow area, a
coyote followed me.
The sense of triumph of having made it through that road may only be
matched by qualifying for Nationals for the first time.
It took me two and a half hours to drive that 70 mile road. I ended
up in San Luis Obispo at around 8 o'clock, found a hostel, checked in,
and hit the nightlife. Now this is crazy: apparently San Luis is home
to a community college and Cali PolyTech. Yeah, that one. It also
has a giant seven block long farmer's market on Thursday nights. So
imagine this if you can:
CMU's Asians, Pitt's hippies, and Pennsyltucky's cowboys, all crowded
in a combination farmer's market/activities fair/politico-religious
recruitment office (all sides rep'd, including Libs/Dems/Reps, a
synagogue, and a Christian rock band offering up salvations) that is
set on Walnut Street. (or Chestnut Hill for those in Philly). It was
ridiculous. I found a bar and started talking to the more reasonable
looking people. Most people were actually really friendly and willing
to talk once I explained my situation of passing through town and not
having been there before. I hit four bars: one was affordable, but
the clientele were kind of lame; one wasn't even worth getting a beer
in, one was an irish bar that had four taps, two english, one
american, and guinness. I asked for Smithwicks and he didn't know
what I was talking about, freaking weirdos in there anyway, and a
ridiculously overpriced place where a wasted 30 year old kept trying
to explain to me that Anaheim is where Disneyland is and that Orange
County is not at all like it is on MTV. I don't even know what that
means.
So after three hours at the bars, I came back to the hostel and met a
whole bunch of foreigners. I think I'm the only American here. I
tried to speak to them, but they seemed exhausted having to speak
English, so I gave up. Tomorrow morning I'll head up the coast,
probably along Rte 1, the Pacific Coast Highway. Hopefully I'll make
it to Santa Cruz by the evening. By the way, Brody, if I take
pictures of Bravo on Sat can I crash on your hotel floor Frinite? And
K2, I might end up a day later than I thought, I'll be in touch.
A little too tired for a joke tonight, sorry to disappoint...
Good night all, and much thanks to those who are keeping in touch.
Flagstaff, AZ without much incident. Not terribly exciting at all. I
wanted to see Sunset Crater National Park in the morning, so I camped
a few miles away. Got myself some firewood, some stuff to grill, and
pitched a tent.. which was not as easy as it should have been...
Sunset Crater is a crater that appeared almost a thousand years ago,
and volcanic activity created a cinder cone in it. As I understand
it, the whole area's rocks are volcanic in nature. Which makes the
ground kinda pebbly. Which makes my tent, which isn't freestanding,
which I've never had a problem with before because of decent soil,
very unstable. MikeLo, good call on the freestanding one you bought.
I finally got it up after much negotiating (the pebble ground wasn't
actually all that bad to sleep on, they were small enough that they
just kind of moved around me), and got a six pack of something local
from a gas station. I think it was the "Nimbus Pale Ale" from Tucson.
While I was sitting around my fire waiting for the coals to bake
through, an elderly German woman came up to me from a neighboring
campsite.
[Sidenote: State and National Park campgrounds are often almost
entirely populated with old people in RV's. I was the only basic
camper there. They're usually retired, always very nice, and love
telling you about their grandkids. It's the best thing ever.]
Anyway, Margaret (that was her name) had come over to give me a little
electric lamp because I had been using my Maglite to cook by. When I
say give, I mean give, she didn't want it back. I tried giving her a
beer, or some food, and all she wanted was to give me the lamp. We
talked for a while, and I found out that her and her husband are
retired teachers, she taught art and German language (here in America,
of course) and are travelling around the Southwest in an RV that they
bought here. I tried to call the Sharp Edge to wish everyone a Happy
Wednesday, but apparently no service in those mountains. Sorry guys,
maybe next week.
When I woke up in the morning around 8am, I felt a strong wind. On
intuition, I got everything out of my tent and packed it back up the
car. Went to the bathroom to freshen, came back, and sure enough my
shaky tent had collapsed. Great timing, I must say. I packed up the
tent, and it started pouring just as I finished. Made it into the
car, found a local radio station, and after half an hour found out the
rain wouldn't stop until mid afternoon. Bad luck, good timing, but my
hike to the Crater was obviously cancelled. I got an oil change
(driven more than 3000 miles already!), and headed west on I-40. I
hit a high of 107 degrees, but luckily didn't have any of the problems
K2 and Jenna did.
Driving through Arizona was incredible. There are some things that I
just can't describe through words. Like, I know why "burnt sienna" is
a crayon now. I understand what they mean by, "purple mountain
majesty". The desert is just a very wild place. I even saw my first
tumbleweed. There are pictures, hopefully when I get to San Francisco
I can get my rolls developed and online..
Funny story: between Arizona and California, there are "Agricultural
Checkpoints" to make sure you're not transporting plants, animals,
fruits or vegetables between states. I told them I wasn't, the guy
asked me to pop the back so he could look around, and before I could
he noticed just how much crap I have in the car and waved me through.
I could hav smuggled anything.
Less funny story: if you're ever travelling in the desert of
Arid-zone-a, here's a tip:
Every time you stop for the bathroom, water, or gas, fill the other
two as well. Never take any of them for granted, and even keep a
container of water that you don't touch somewhere for emergencies.
Especially when you make the border crossing; I was real happy I
wasn't forced into the first couple Cali gas stops; prices jumped 50
cents a gallon between states until I hit Barstow, CA about two hours
in.
I hit Barstow and my solid Interstate 40 became sketchy Cali State
road 58. This "highway" would frequently become one lane roads. At
one point there was "construction" for miles that closed either the
left or right lanes. I was wildly tempted to do some slaloms between
cones, especially after I passed a cop, parked, with his lights on,
with white ipod wires coming from his ears, completely passed out. At
any rate, I stopped off for lunch in Bakersfield and looked at my maps
and travel guide again. I realized that I-5 was going to be through
more arid desert, and I honestly couldn't do any more of that after
two days and about a dozen hours of driving through it. I also saw
that CA-58 would hit the coast eventually, but it would be better to
spend the night in San Luis Obispo than in a directly coastal town,
because it's summer and beaches are wild pricey in the summer. Thus
began an adventure..
CA-58 is a back road at best. Sure it was on my map. Sure it looks
like it's 70 miles long and therefore only about an hour. What
actually happened i'm not sure I can describe without a topographical
map, a compass, and a gun.
Begin by going here: http://www.snipurl.com/vrou Realize how far
zoomed out you are, and how winding it looks. Most of you know how
tight my car's turning radius is, even at a high speed.. I had to slow
to 30mph for an hour to make these switchbacks.
I entered into this barren wasteland. It was the first time I was
actually fearful during this trip. All of these things I saw within
the first half an hour: an eighteen wheeler blowout a tire because of
heat alone, a sign saying "$1000 fine for littering" that was shot
full of holes, a beat up pickup truck that had fallen off the winding
road I was driving on and was about 500 feet below me, a sign that
actually said "watch for blowing dust", and a cowboy standing next to
his pick up, talking with another cowboy, both with rifles on their
shoulders.
At first I was honestly worried about banditos. Then I realized that
there was no way my roadside assistance service could reach me in more
than two hours. Then I realized I wouldn't even be able to call them
because my cell wouldn't work that far out in the middle of nowhere.
Then I said, "Fuck it", kicked it into fourth gear, put on some Allman
Brothers, and took those badlands for all they were worth at 65 miles
an hour (after coming out of the mountains of course). No lie, I came
around one corner and every cow in a herd stopped munching, looked up
at me, and if I've ever interpreted any animal expression at all, they
said, "What the hell are YOU doing here?" There were points where a
three way crossroad would exist, and I would have to guess which
direction CA-58 continued on. I passed a school, "Carrissa High
School, Home of the Polecats"; it was just one building, a couple
trees, and an electric generator. In a particularly slow area, a
coyote followed me.
The sense of triumph of having made it through that road may only be
matched by qualifying for Nationals for the first time.
It took me two and a half hours to drive that 70 mile road. I ended
up in San Luis Obispo at around 8 o'clock, found a hostel, checked in,
and hit the nightlife. Now this is crazy: apparently San Luis is home
to a community college and Cali PolyTech. Yeah, that one. It also
has a giant seven block long farmer's market on Thursday nights. So
imagine this if you can:
CMU's Asians, Pitt's hippies, and Pennsyltucky's cowboys, all crowded
in a combination farmer's market/activities fair/politico-religious
recruitment office (all sides rep'd, including Libs/Dems/Reps, a
synagogue, and a Christian rock band offering up salvations) that is
set on Walnut Street. (or Chestnut Hill for those in Philly). It was
ridiculous. I found a bar and started talking to the more reasonable
looking people. Most people were actually really friendly and willing
to talk once I explained my situation of passing through town and not
having been there before. I hit four bars: one was affordable, but
the clientele were kind of lame; one wasn't even worth getting a beer
in, one was an irish bar that had four taps, two english, one
american, and guinness. I asked for Smithwicks and he didn't know
what I was talking about, freaking weirdos in there anyway, and a
ridiculously overpriced place where a wasted 30 year old kept trying
to explain to me that Anaheim is where Disneyland is and that Orange
County is not at all like it is on MTV. I don't even know what that
means.
So after three hours at the bars, I came back to the hostel and met a
whole bunch of foreigners. I think I'm the only American here. I
tried to speak to them, but they seemed exhausted having to speak
English, so I gave up. Tomorrow morning I'll head up the coast,
probably along Rte 1, the Pacific Coast Highway. Hopefully I'll make
it to Santa Cruz by the evening. By the way, Brody, if I take
pictures of Bravo on Sat can I crash on your hotel floor Frinite? And
K2, I might end up a day later than I thought, I'll be in touch.
A little too tired for a joke tonight, sorry to disappoint...
Good night all, and much thanks to those who are keeping in touch.
posted by Fraggle @ 4:06 AM
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