Coming Home to Fly Apart

Ohio had felt like it was nothing but rain-- aside from the two crowded hikes we went on-- but as soon as we crossed into Pennsylvania at around five o’clock in the evening the sun suddenly burst through and we were graced by the view of the beautiful rolling hills of Pennsylvania. It felt like seeing a good friend again after being apart for much too long. You see I lived in Pennsylvania for a year and it was fantastic! I remember that I loved the fall colors, the rolling hills, and the fact that it was all just small towns. Sure there are two big cities in Pennsylvania (Pittsburg and Philadelphia), but the rest of the place is covered in nothing but small towns and open space.

We drove straight into Allegheny National Forest that evening, and since it was late we didn’t put forth much effort finding a camping spot. In fact, we were probably just barely sixty feet from the road (that’s the minimum distance for camping on National Forest property). We also happened to be right next to an old oil pump. The bonus was that we were not on church property. Though since the campsite was a rushed choice both Eric and Tweedy began to feel trepidation towards the entire state of Pennsylvania, but it was okay, because it would quickly win them over the next day.

Come morning we drove to a nearby trailhead for Minister’s Creek and made a batch of oatmeal along with hot chocolate and some “rosehip tea”—I put it in quotations because really all we were doing was boiling spruce pine needles. Don’t knock it though, it tastes delicious and strong, not to mention it’s a great source of vitamin C. Eh? Not half bad right? 

Following the gourmet breakfast, we made our way along what we thought to be the Minister’s Creek Trail. It was a beautiful stretch of forest, but we seemed to keep losing track of the trail so we found an old abandoned oil piped that we started to follow along. At points we were balancing on top of the pipeline over stretches of muddy ground. There was even a short stretch where we had to balance on the pipe and support our weight with sticks in order to bend around and avoid the trunk of a tree. The sad part is we all managed to pull off that maneuver just to find out that the oil pipe ended suddenly ten feet later. At that point we decided it was time to find another landmark to follow. This brought us over to Minister’s Creek, which we waded across and followed along the opposite bank.

It was on the return crossing of the river that we discovered the entire creek was teeming with crayfish. This led to us catching crayfish for the next couple hours before we finally made our way back to the car along with our bag full of crayfish. It was official now, everyone was in love with the Pennsylvania woods, especially right there by the creek. Upon checking the map we found out that what we thought was the trailhead was actually the part of the forest where people could camp wherever they wanted. Next thing you know we had our backpacks on and we were hiking back to an island type thing where we made camp. Here, maybe you should just take a look for yourself.

That night we had a crayfish boil, and it was delicious! Unfortunately it was not enough food for three big dudes so I made some beans for dinner as well, and after dinner we got a roaring fire going and sat around chatting until the desire for sleep won over.

As soon as we woke up the next day we got back in Minister’s Creek and began an even more intense crayfish hunt then the two hour one from the day before. If I were to guess I would say that we were wading around in the creek for nearly four hours, and our haul of crayfish was stupendous! Still we had to supplement the meal (that's what happens when you're trying to feed three big dudes) before we broke camp and headed back to the cars. It was difficult saying goodbye to that campsite, but now we were on a press for time. Eric needed to get to New York City in two days so he could fly back to Colorado in order to be at his friend Isaac’s wedding, so onto the road it was. We booked it down to central Pennsylvania that night where we ate dinner at a Burger King before once again sleeping in State Games Land. Now we found out at a later point that it is actually against regulations to camp in state game lands in Pennsylvania, but no one ever seemed to mind while we were there, so I didn’t feel bad about it. In that particular state games land campsite yielded many wild discoveries that we made during a midnight hike up a creek bed. This included several species of salamander and ever a box turtle who was our companion during our short stay there.

The morning of October 5^th it was time to be back on the road again. We were planning on being in Philadelphia that night, so we needed to start heading south. Our options for what we could do that day were fairly slim. I told Eric about some things that were worth seeing in Pennsylvania and he chose Centralia. Just a little history as to the city of Centralia. Back in the day it was a booming coal mining town with somewhere around 5000 people living there. For those of you from real cities thinking that is hardly anything… well let’s just say as far as Pennsylvania towns go that would be in the top ten percentile. The town was doomed though. Eventually the coal mine that actually stretched underneath the homes of the workers there in town caught on fire due to a freak accident. At first the flames stayed away from the boundaries of the town, but in the 1970’s it started to cause sink holes right next to the border of town and there was a federal evacuation order of the town. A few people still remain (I think the technical population is three), but for the most part it is just a ghost town now, take a look for yourself.

We spent some time hiking around the town that is now nothing more than a barren tourist attraction and set of four-wheeling trails. Four wheelers would not fit in our cars though, so we were just hiking through the four-wheeling trails. Most of the town has transformed into something of a trash dump, but if you go far enough in on the roads it’s still possible to find young woods that have reclaimed the plot of land from the people who abandoned it. It was on these deeper trails (right around sunset) while we were just hiking around, when Tweedy (he was in front of all of us) started growling and backing up past Eric and I. Apparently he had caught sight of a black bear, and once Eric and I had calmed him down we went up to the place where he had seen it in hopes of snapping a picture, unfortunately he had already disappeared so I don’t have a picture to show you. We did search for a while longer though, but we couldn’t stick around forever. There was a plane to catch the next day in NYC and we had our first couch surfing appointment to show up for. For those of you who don’t know, couch surfer is actually a website/app that pairs you with locals in an area who are willing to offer a floor or couch to crash on to travelers coming through. It’s a great way to meet people both while traveling and as a host.

That night in Philadelphia we stayed with a super nice girl who was going to school at the nearby medical university. Helaina was super sweet to us and got a place for us to sleep in the basement of the small little apartment that she lived in. It wasn’t a finished basement, but why would we care about anything like that? A place to lay our pad inside is more than anyone of us could ever ask for after a week of camping in random locations across the state.

The next day we drove straight to New York City. Now I know all of those Los Angeles types will always say their traffic is the worst, but that’s only because most people in Los Angeles haven’t tried to drive through New York City. We dropped off Eric’s car in a suburb in New Jersey and then all of our lives rested in my hands as I drove us into the city area. The good thing about that is I don’t think I was ever traveling fast enough for a wreck to cause any damage to the car, let alone the occupants. Still I thought it best not to test that hypothesis and got us to a park to cook some beans for lunch without a scratch. I think the fact that we cooked on a camping stove in a park in New York City is a fairly unique experience, and the beans were fantastic, not to mention hot as could be thanks to those peppers we got from the girl in Kafe Kerouac.

After eating it was time to say goodbye for a short time to one of the three parts of our traveling unit, so we got back on the road and I managed to maneuver us safely to the airport terminal. And so three became two. And let me tell you, the adventures did not even slow down, but more on that next time.

Dancing Down through War Torn Memories

My sincere apologies for taking so long to get this next post up. It probably would have been another week wait if it had not been for the fact that my baby, Ophelia (that's my Honda CR-V), broke down and we have to wait for her to get fixed. More on that later though, for now let's pick up where we left off.

We left the home at the north of Detroit and booked it down towards Indianapolis. (Whenever we move between cities I feel a little strange because usually we prefer to stick to the forest where we can be filthy without being self-conscious, but every once and a while something comes up that makes two city days in a row happen.) The reason for the rush on this particular day was that down in Indianapolis that night was a blues dance, and I was hungry for some blues. The last time I got a chance to dance was all the way back in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and that was much too long ago. Thankfully Tweedy and Eric are understanding of my addiction and are willing to make some concessions for it as long as it doesn’t mess with the path of travel too greatly. Just so happens we needed to get to Indiana.

In Minneapolis I was amazed that the weekly dance was held in conjunction with a weekly blues jam at a local blues bar. Indianapolis was more of what I am used to seeing as far as dance venues go, though the entrance to the location was tucked away rather discreetly. Eric, Tweedy, and I wandered around the building twice before we caught sight of the door that we were supposed to go through (it also happened to be the only door on the building that was still unlocked). After hiking up the two stories of stairs—which admittedly isn’t that great a number of stairs anyway, especially compared to another staircase we would be going up a couple days later—we arrived at a fantastic dance hall. I was going to call it a “little” dance hall, but that would be an inaccurate description. In all honesty it was medium sized, but the lack of attendants made it appear as if it were giant. A feeling that was augmented by having a wall of mirrors directly across from a wall of windows. It felt like infinite dancing space. There were only a total of eleven attendees in this infinite space, and that count includes Eric, Tweedy, and I. Turns out the scene had just sprouted up within the past couple months. Blues dancing is a young dance as far as being steps that are taught—though it’s history is one of the oldest American dance forms. Being a young dance the young people have more of a thing for it, so the people who had started the scene there in Indianapolis had been introduced to blues dancing where they had gone to college in usually much smaller towns. Strangely enough, when they came into the capital of Indiana they could no longer find the blues dancing that they had found in the smaller towns where they had gone to college. In fact no one had even heard of blues before. They decided it was time to take matters into their own hands and started putting these weekly dances together. The scene is definitely still at toddler level, but I had a fantastic time and met some great dancers and people in general. My only complaint was the fact that once again all the dancers were ready to pack up and leave by 11:00 p.m. There are so many more hours that are good for dancing after 11:00! Sure it was a Tuesday, but back in Denver I’m up past 2:00 a.m. on a Tuesday.

The good part about the dance ending early is that we were able to do our late night self-guided city tour. I think we have done a tour like that with nearly every single big city we have gone through so far on the trip, and it is always the best possible city tour a person could ever get. In this case we managed to find our way down to a river walk first where we passed by several other late night ramblers enjoying a quiet stroll. So for those taking notes, Indianapolis is yet another large city that any individual can feel perfectly safe wandering down the streets in the middle of the night. Along the river walk were several murals as well as some of the most fantastic little architectural flourishes. I was especially a fan of all of the little bridges crisscrossing the river.

As we reached the end of the river walk we started in towards the center of downtown. On our way we passed what has to be the friendliest police officer I have ever met in my entire life. He was a young guy, probably younger than me, but his youth did not show in the least. He gave us a short history lesson on Indianapolis and Indiana in general and told us that there were two FREE museums in the city that were attached to monuments. The monuments we could see still during that night, but the museums we would have to come back for. Not like we minded retracing our steps—anything free is worth doing some backtracking for. Still we went to check out the monuments by the illumination of the city lights. These monuments were the Indianapolis Civil War Monument/Museum

And the Indianapolis War Monument/Museum.

More information about these later. During our ramblings we bumped into a group of well-dressed young individuals sitting on the steps of the Civil War Monument. Turns out they were students at a local Christian university who were there in downtown for a conference of some sort. Indianapolis may not be as busy as bigger cities late at night, but it doesn’t seem to fall asleep entirely either. It just gets a heavy drowsiness. The drowsiness was starting to hit us as well and we still had several miles to go to reach Tweedy’s grandpa, who had offered a place to stay for the night. Thankfully so too, there was a chance of rain that night and rain is our one foe when it comes to tent camping.

Once again, it was late—I would say 2 o’clock in the morning—when we showed up on Tweedy’s grandpa’s doorstep. Thankfully we had given him a significant forewarning that we would be showing up during the young hours of the morning, still I felt a little guilty, not enough though that I would have given up my little night of dancing. He offered us a little bite of food before we descended to the basement where there were actual beds waiting to carry us off into the land of dreams.

The next day we woke up late. So late that I would consider myself a fiend if I were to refer to it as morning. This meant that it was already past the time for breakfast and we were beginning to encroach on lunchtime. Tweedy’s grandpa was kind enough to take us out for our late breakfast/lunch at a local Chinese buffet. Seeing as we had skipped about two meals before that buffet we were able to get the full money’s worth. I think I filled four plates worth, plus two or three other small plates to cleanse the pallet. We rolled out of that restaurant, had a little trouble fitting through the front door, but nothing that a little butter and some elbow grease from the wait staff couldn’t fix.

Tweedy’s father continued to spoil us by giving us a tour of Madison, Indiana (the town where he lived and where we were staying) after the lunch. We got to cross south to Kentucky even and even went into Clifty State Park where we saw a couple of waterfalls. Unfortunately I did not have my camera on me for that little excursion, so you'll have to take my word for it that it was beautiful.

Once we got back to home base Tweedy’s grandfather headed out to take care of his responsibilities as a minister and we walked down the street to a set of old railroad tracks that we began to walk up and along. Eventually we stumbled upon a set of seemingly random old concrete stairs that just ended abruptly just before the ravine that was to the side of the railroad tracks. What would you do if you randomly stumbled across cement stairs in a location where they had no right being? You have to follow them, right? That’s what we thought, and follow them we did. Ultimately they popped up at the edge of a road that ran in front of a hospital. It seemed like such a strange location for a hospital, so we decided that we better case the joint and figure out if there was a big residential development just behind it that would legitimize the hospital’s location, but instead of finding a residential community we found a different sort of community—a women’s prison was just sitting there, pretty much sharing property with the hospital. Things quickly grew awkward at this point as we just continued to walk right on by the prison. It must have been meal time or something because once we were almost past it all the sudden all of the “tenants” came pouring out of the buildings. We just continued to walk, but our presence drew some attention that eventually led to a random warden yelling at us to just keep moving. Strangely enough she yelled that while we were in the process of walking.

Eventually we completed the loop around the campus and descended the cement stairs/dirt trail in the dark and stayed another night with Tweedy’s grandpa. We couldn’t stay there forever though, so the next day we had to leave those wonderful loving people and return to Indianapolis for the FREE war museums.

First stop in Indianapolis was the Salvation Army where we parked our cars before hiking into downtown. The Civil War Museum was a fairly small set-up (especially now that I can consider it in comparison to the Civil War Museum in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania), but it was free, and provided a bit of educational review, plus we were able to walk up a giant winding staircase to the top of the Civil War Monument, which was pretty cool as well as being a great workout for the thighs. The museum really worth talking about though is the Indianapolis War Museum. This museum was constructed after World War I with the resources and money from all of the countries involved in the signing of the treaty. Why Indianapolis, Indiana of all places? You might ask. Well it turns out that Indiana has always had the greatest percentage of volunteers for all of the wars in the history of the US that Indiana was around for. In recognition of the sacrifice made by this state it was the one that got to have the multi-million-dollar monument and museum to The War that was supposed to have been the end of all wars. Unfortunately, that was not the case as the museum inside it can attest to. It chronicles the involvement of the US in all of the wars that it has ever been involved in, including the Revolutionary War on through the “War on Terror.” It is quite the monument though. I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

After completing our tour of the museums we decided that we were satisfied with our time in Indiana and that it was time to move on once again. Ohio was a-calling. 

Sandy Beaches and Concrete Jungles

Just a quick heads up-- I did not have a chance to go through and edit this post before posting so hopefully you can pardon any mistakes or difficult sections to read, it's just time for us to get going now. 

We did eventually leave Justin and the two Matts and made our way down into the oven mitt part of Michigan. Sure it was several days later on the 25^th of September, but we did keep going. We left at around noon and headed down towards one of the more remarkable bridges in the entirety of the U.S. and out towards Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore. Now everyone in the mitt part of Michigan refers to their location of the state by displaying their right hand palm upwards and pointing to which part of the state they lived in. Using this representation, Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore would be at the tip of the pinky. For those of you who might struggle pulling up that image in your own brain that is the most Western point on the northern shore of the main mitt of Michigan. Sleeping Bear National Lakeshore is actually considered a National Park and usually one would have to pay to get into the park, but somehow we always manage to show up after the main gate has already been abandoned, so we were able to go hiking around on these dunes (the day after we had spent a full day at the other dunes mind you) without having to pay the entrance fee. This also meant that we hiked back to our cars in the dark, but that was no issue for us. We have before and since done much later night hikes.

Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes are about twice the size of the Sable Sand Dunes, though the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes do have a lot more traffic. Even with us arriving as the sun was sinking below the horizon and the sky threatening the possibility of rain we still ran into several people on the trail out to the coast of Lake Michigan. It was a beautiful hike though, and the sunset really added to the aesthetic. The best part of all though was the color and look of the lake at the end of the hike. Somehow the water there right by the shore had taken on this turquoise glow. It was too beautiful to just look at, we had to take a dip in the water as well (for me it also meant finally bagging Lake Michigan). I mean look at it! You can’t tell me that you would not have wanted to go for a swim as well.

After hiking back to the cars we took a moment to fix some dinner there at the foot of the first dune before we went about trying to find a place to sleep. This involved quite a bit of driving around. Ultimately we realized that there was no decent National Forest nearby for us to set up camp, which meant we resorted to one of our more desperate means of setting up camp. We found a roadside pull off that had a picnic table and set up our tent right next to the picnic table and I tried to mostly block the view of our tent from the road with my car. It was not exactly the greatest location for privacy, but we were tired so we fell right to sleep.

Next morning we awoke to our tent being soaked once again. It had rained that night, and my sleeping pad had collected a decent amount of water within it since I was on the lowest part of the incline of the slight hill we had set our tent up on. This made me a little bit grumpy from the get go that morning. But thankfully Eric and Tweedy did not have to suffer through my mood since Tweedy had just switched to riding in Eric’s car the day before.

Our first stop was William Mitchell State Park where the boys made breakfast and I just continued in my moodiness. I did not manage to get out of my moody state of mind until we stopped at another little park a couple hours later. Bay City State Recreation Area was a park that butted right up to the shallowest part of Lake Eerie. We probably walked out into the lake about a hundred yards and still the water never got higher than my waist- it never even reached the waists of the other two though (darn those tall people). It was quite chilly that morning, which meant that I was happy it couldn’t get any higher than my waist, and even being waist deep was a bit too much at times. Still it was a great looking beach. During the summer I’m sure it’s packed.

After enjoying that bit of nature it was time to dive into another city. We drove into Detroit in the afternoon and parked our cars on the side of the street in Greek Town before beginning our self-guided tour through the city. For some reason Detroit gets a bad rap, and perhaps a couple years ago there was a reason for it (I remember seeing the pictures on the news of all the abandoned high rises and trashed demolition sites), but for me it ranks up there with Chicago, though it was nowhere near as bustling as Chicago. I think that will change over the next few years though as well as more people come to the realization that Detroit is really a beautiful city. We began our walk with wandering through the streets on the northern side of the city. This part of the city is full of older architecture. If I had to hazard a guess (which I do because I didn’t do any research about the city—sorry about that) I would say that most of those store fronts date back to the late 1800’s.

This was where the shopping district part of the town was located, which was not exactly up our alley as budget travelers, so after taking some time to enjoy the architecture we started to wander South towards the board walk part of town that follows along the Detroit River. This part of the city is absolutely gorgeous. It is lined with monuments and little art installments of the three-dimensional variety. Across the river you can see the southernmost part of Canada. It’s a random peninsula that dips below the rest of the country, pretty much a Canadian Florida. Believe the place looked like it was a resort town too, at least from where we stood on the other side of the river.

After that we wandered into the Renaissance Center. This is a conglomeration of five buildings that were built by GM, though they contain about fifty different companies. The buildings are set up with one center building that was taller than the rest and four satellite skyscrapers around it. We first wandered into the one owned by the Hilton and snuck into one of the elevators and rode it to the top floor of the hotel. Unfortunately, there were no windows that could be seen on that top floor. You had to have a room to get the view. We still wandered around in there for a minute with the hope of finding some way to access the view, but ultimately failing in our quest. Next we managed to get to the base of the center building. After asking several people where we could find access to find the elevator that went to the top floor we were able to find it. It was owned by Coach (a restaurant that was located on that top floor). The hostess there on the main floor was kind enough to just let us in so we could take the ride and see the view at the top. I’m pretty sure it has to be the best free elevator in the world. It is glass so you get to witness the view change and the rest of the world diminish right before your eyes before you arrive at the breathtaking view afforded there at the seventy-second floor.

Once we got to see that view the only thing left to do was get back to our cars and figure out a place to sleep. Fortunately we managed to find a walking path that goes right through what I’m pretty sure used to be the ugly looking part of Detroit that I saw those pictures of all those years ago. Now it is beautiful though, and is pretty much an outdoor art gallery for some amazing urban painters. I’m going to include a few specimens for you all to appreciate.

(I know, quite a lot of pictures in succession, but one of my little sisters was rather disgruntled with the fact that my last post did not have enough pictures, so I’m trying to make up for it this go round.)

That night Eric managed to find us a home to stay in since our tent was soaking wet and we did not feel too inclined to sleep by the side of the road again in a soaking wet tent. Helen and Steve let us into their home despite the fact that we were all complete strangers to them, they just happened to know someone that knew Eric and trusted her to not refer complete ruffians to stay with them. They were honestly some of the sweetest people I have ever met. A dinner of spaghetti and meatballs was waiting for us when we arrived along with a side salad and a desert of ice cream sundaes. That was the most satisfied my stomach has been on the trip thus far (though the Chicago style pizza that Matt’s parents provided for us is a very close second). After a delightful dinner we watched a less delightful display with the first presidential debate. It was quite the storm. Neither one of those two candidates looked good, though I enjoyed watching it because what I studied in school (rhetoric) translates perfectly to analyzing debates. Ultimately though I think that the entire country should just say “screw them” to the main political parties and instead only vote for the less well represented parties or write in a candidate. Because if we are all honest with ourselves we’ll all realize that not a single one of us wants another Republican or Democrat as a president.

Anyway, we still slept well and I managed not to have any nightmares waking me up in the middle of the night. The next day we were served pancakes for breakfast and chatted with Helen and Steve before we headed out right around noon. It was hard to say goodbye to those beautiful people. I might have to go back to Detroit just so I can see Steve and Helen again.

But it was time to head on out. That night there was a dance to be a part of in Indianapolis, so we took to the road and in a couple hours we were telling Michigan goodbye after a nice long stay.

Don’t forget to check out Tweedy’s and Eric’s Youtube channels for the video documentation of the trip. 

Up UP and Away!

As I have mentioned something around 28 times—we get to where we are going to be sleeping late, and the night we slept in northern Wisconsin was no different. We drove into Chequamegon National Forest to find a place to camp. The campsite that we had left earlier that day had been our favorite up until that point and I know that I was at least hoping that Chequamegon National Forest would be just as pretty as Superior National Forest in Minnesota. It wasn’t. There was a lot of logging going on in the area so we would drive through a section of pretty decent looking woods just to come out of it a couple minutes later into desolate fields. Not to mention the roads were a bit difficult to manage, at least for Eric in his little Civic. Unfortunately for him I was the one leading at the time and I did not even think about the road conditions because my car just rolls over everything. What I found to be a pain was the fact that we couldn’t find any decent woods that would be nice to camp in, and when we did we would follow the road back just to find that it was a logging headquarters with several cords of wood stacked up everywhere. Eventually we managed to find a little pull off road that had a tree fall across it so clearly no loggers were using it. We set up the tent just beyond the fallen tree and then pulled out another tree back behind Eric’s car since we were still fairly close to the main road and we were hoping to get a little more privacy that way. Sleep crept on easily enough as late night turned to early morning.

Since we had gotten to bed late I was expecting to get the chance to sleep in late, but that was a foolish assumption. I had forgotten the level of paranoia that Eric and Tweedy still had in regards to sleeping by the side of a dirt road in a national forest that none of us had ever been in before. (I guess I should feel trepidation over it as well, but for some reason I don’t, and since that time all of us feel much to comfortable setting up a tent and sleeping just about anywhere—stay tuned for some of our more ridiculous campsites) Their paranoia caused them to wake me up at 6:00 in the morning because a white truck had driven by us twice, and at one point the driver may or may not have stopped and looked at our little camping site more intently. Whatever the case it freaked Eric and Tweedy out so we had to break camp and roll out as soon as possible in order to calm them down.

As we drove out of the forest we passed the white pickup, along with a few other trucks and a lot of other guys. Turned out it was just a hunting party trying to find each other. The good thing about waking up early is we had time to go and goof around somewhere for a while. Honestly we were just looking for the first park we found by the side of the highway that had picnic tables so I could fix us some morning oatmeal. Luckily we happened to stumble across the City of Ashland Maslowski Beach. It had rained on us the past couple of nights while we were sleeping, so while I got breakfast ready Eric and Tweedy set up the tent on the beach right next to Lake Superior (We’ve seen four of the five Great Lakes now and I have to say Lake Superior has been my favorite in every location that we’ve seen it) so that the tent could dry out.

After breakfast we changed into our swimsuits and took a dip in the lake.

It was cold, but thankfully the sun was out and the air was warm, so a bit of cold water was no big deal (it was still warmer than most of the mountain lakes I’ve been in back in Colorado). After the swim we continued to just hang out there on the beach. Our activities included playing on the nearby playground equipment, chatting with a couple ladies that were from the main body of Michigan visiting Northern Wisconsin, and burying Tweedy in sand.

After we had finished with our antics we broke the tent down and continued into the Upper Peninsula of Michigan (from now on I will solely just use the abbreviation UP, and no this will not be in reference to the movie Up!). Shortly after we passed over the border into Michigan we had to stop for gas—I know, super exciting information, but I promise I will only mention fueling up if it leads to something. At this gas station we were introduced to the friendly and talkative nature of many Michigan natives. It was one of those gas stations where you have to pay inside, and when we went in to pay there was a lady by the counter who immediately started talking with us. Once she figured out why we were in Michigan and our quest to road trip all 48 contiguous states the talking just became more profuse, because she had lived the gypsy lifestyle since she was seventeen. I’m still torn as to whether I want to have a transitory lifestyle for that long or not; it was nice to hear it was possible though.

Back outside (about fifteen or twenty minutes later) I started getting chatted up by a biker dude. He was somewhere between the ages of sixty-two and seventy-eight. When a person has that much hair on his face it makes it rather difficult to pinpoint the age. Anyway, Eric and I chatted with him for another twenty minutes or so. He lived there in the UP, but he rode his Harley across the country at least once a year. In fact, he rode so much that he had put over a million miles on Harleys and on the particular bike we saw him on he had put over 660,000 miles. After chatting for a while we got back on the road. We thought that we would never see either of those two unique individuals ever again, and then the biker dude whipped up and around us. He pulled over on the shoulder and motioned for me to roll the window down. I did so and he shouted in that if we needed a place to stay we could crash at his place. After the past several nights of sleeping in a tent with rain pounding down on us, having a roof to sleep under sounded perfect, so we followed him down a winding road to his property.

This little bearded biker dude, Allyn (I figure it’s about time I get his name in here), built every building on his property with the help of his wife. Not only that but he built it with the trees that were on his property. There are five distinct structures on the property, and most of them are two stories tall. I was blown away! He and his wife also grow and raise their own food. This includes having a giant garden and raising a few head of cattle along with several chickens. They are almost completely off the grid aside from a small amount of electricity they use. Allyn is a retired mine worker and he says that with the way they live just his social security check provides him with more income than he can even use, and most of it just goes into paying for gas for his bike. We chatted with him late into the night, getting to try the fresh cuisine from the garden and even getting to try the wood burning sauna he had built (Allyn is one hundred percent Finnish, and apparently the Fins are all about their saunas).

Unfortunately we couldn’t hang out there forever and the next morning we said goodbye to Al and headed on up the UP. First stop along the way was the Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. We saw two water falls there at the park—including Chapel Falls.

Next was a stop at the Stable Sand Dunes. We have a thing for sand dunes (especially Eric), a few months back we all went to the Great Sand Dunes together with Justin as well—who we were on our way to see. This means we would be returning to those same sand dunes in order to share that experience between all four of us again, though when we returned we would be doing a lot more, so I took pictures to remember those dunes during this first visit. And goodness gracious were they beautiful, especially as we crested the final dune and looked down and out to the apparently infinite Lake Superior.

After a couple hours of exploring the dunes we drove the last leg to our first extended reprieve of the road trip at Justin’s home (that is where I was when I posted two or three blog posts in quick succession). That first night there was no working though, just chilling out with Justin and two of his roommates—the two Matts. We also got a tour of Lake Superior State University the university they all attend up there in Sault Ste Marie (pronounce S-oo Saint Marie). That town is possible the only town that crosses the border with Canada—literally it is the same place on both sides of the border, but you still have to have a passport to see the Canadian side and we did not bring ours, so we had to remain on the U.S. side, which is no big deal because we spent most of our time on our laptops anyway, at least Tweedy and I did.

From September 20^th to 23^rd we just chilled. Our non-indoor activities included disc golf, going to the sauna at the school (not near as good as Al’s), shopping, and we went shooting and I shot a gun for the first time.

It was definitely a unique experience, though not one that changes my mind about needing more strict gun laws. Sorry for all those out there that love their guns—I definitely believe in the right of the people to have guns, but after all the shootings of innocent people I think it is about time that everyone stops whining and allows for a whole lot more restrictions to be set in the hope that we can at least decrease the number of mass shootings (all of the guns used in mass shootings in the past five years in the U.S. have been attained legally). I mean it did work for Australia after all. If you disagree that’s perfectly fine, Eric definitely disagrees with my views on gun control, and we are still great friends.

Finally Saturday rolled around—September the 24^th—when Justin was finally free of school responsibilities so we could return to the Sable Sand Dunes. We ended up spending the entire day there. Sometimes wading in the lake, other times scaling the most difficult parts of the dunes, walking along the beach, eating marshmallows and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, building a small fire. All in all it was a fantastic day. That night back at the abode we had a little party since we would be departing the next day, and I fell asleep with a contented smile on my face.

That will do it for the stories from Upper Wisconsin and Upper Michigan, next up is Detroit. Hopefully I’ll get that post up tomorrow.

Big City, Big Lake (Chicago Part II)

The night in Chicago had worn on a little bit longer, into the early morning really. That’s why I thought I could push it on to the next post. We eventually made our way back to Jeff’s place and hung out in the hot tubs while looking out the window on this beautiful sight.

Jeff entertained us with stories of his shenanigans as the night wore on until we found ourselves needing to get home at around 2:00 in the morning. Eric, Tweedy, and I thought that we would just go back on the train, but Matt started freaking out and saying we could not ride the blue line at that time of night and eventually ended up just getting us a Lyft home. Remember, it was the blue line that we were told would be a bad train to ride late at night, this detail will feed into the story later on. So we got home and crashed hard once again.

The next morning, we had planned to meet up with Megan once again since the other guys hadn’t really had a chance to get to meet her. Not to mention she said she would love to go on a walk with us along the coast of Lake Michigan and Eric and Tweedy were looking to start their list of great lakes that they had swam in. This time we took the train into town by ourselves and managed to find our way to her place with a little help from the all-knowing Google. We spent some time chatting until we came to something like a swimming bay that was blocked over entirely with cement. Apparently even the beaches in cities are made of cement. Anyway, Eric and Tweedy both got their dips in the lake. I had left my swim trunks behind and something told me that skinny dipping in the middle of the city would be something of a no-no.

After our little walk with Megan we went back to Millennium Park to check out The Bean on a sunny day. The day before had been cloudy and Jeff told us that it would be wrong to get a picture of a cloudy Chicago reflected in The Bean. The day before was a whole lot less crowded. That Saturday afternoon the pavement around it was crowded with people, including two separate wedding parties. Apparently everyone gets married in Chicago on Saturday, at least that was what Megan had told us. We also had first hand evidence. We had seen four different wedding parties that very day. Yeah… I’m going to believe her. And Jeff was right about The Bean too.

Oh, in case you are wondering, that sculpture is not technically named “The Bean,” but that is the only name the locals know it by, and if you are having trouble finding it just tap one of the people who looks like a city person (see the description in the last post) and ask them which way to go to find The Bean. People in Chicago are super helpful and nice despite what their expressions while walking the streets might suggest. In fact we had to incite the assistance of three local girls in order to locate the entrance to the blue line again so that we could get back to Matt’s for some authentic Chicago style pizza that Matt’s parents were kind enough to provide for us. (The only food we had purchased in Chicago had been some McDonald’s because our budget does not in any way allow for eating out. Honestly the McDonald’s was even a little pricey for our price range.)

Yes, we were back on the blue line, heading back into town. With how well we managed to navigate the train system on the way in I was sure we would be fine just remembering to get off at the last stop, but then we found ourselves just sitting in the train at one stop for about five minutes straight before the conductor came on the intercom. She told us that everyone was to get off the train due to “police activity.” I know, government is always so good at specifics. We had no idea what to do, all we were told was that we had to get off the train and that there would be no refunds given. We’re a group of guys that like to hike so we decided we just continue to walk along the route of the rails and just watch for the trains starting back up again and then get back on once we saw that happen. As we were deciding this we caught some chatter around us that seemed to clear up “police activity.” The word circulating was that someone had been shot. All of this happening on the blue line that Matt had said we should not ride the night before-- I guess the locals do know what they are talking about. No one seemed all that phased by the idea of someone being shot at one of the stops (aside from being irritated that they had to get off the train because of it), but then again gang violence has been at an all-time high in Chicago. Since no one else seemed to pay it any mind we decided that walking would still be a perfectly fine plan of action. (We learned later on that if we had just remained at the entrance to the train stop a bus would have shown up to pick us up, but the conductors and workers on the train didn't seem incredibly inclined to let the passengers know about these buses.)

As we walked along the houses began to have a larger percentage of boarded up windows. We walked past a guy with a shopping cart full of old, rusted, long pieces of rebar. Things were starting to gain that vibe—you know, that one you get as a person born from privilege walking into a legitimate ghetto. Not too long after that we came upon a group of young black guys lingering on the sidewalk with a few cars parked right in front of them, and we even saw single cars driving by one by one, stopping for a second before driving on. I’ve seen the show The Wire, (Warning! The clip I have hyperlinked has explicit language and violence) so I had a good idea as to what was going down. Tweedy thought that they were standing there to mug people. Eric thought that it was just a gang of dudes that would leave us alone if we just kept walking on through. Whatever the case we had a decision to make: continue on our original path or find a longer way around.

We debated for a while as to what we should do and then eventually just ended up walking on through the conglomeration of young men. Upon first stepping up to them a guy in a somewhat nice white jacket approached us and started asking if we wanted to purchase any “chemicals” at least that is what I deduced because he was using some of the same slang that I had heard Jeff using while conducting his “business.” Eric told him we were just trying to get home and he turned around and told the other guys to just leave us alone and let us keep walking home. They paid heed, though the much younger boys around yelled taunts that made me think they thought we were cops. The “muscle” guys half unzipped their big coats while one guy went and stood by a wheel of one of the parked cars. If you have seen The Wire you know what all of that was about.

The good part is we were left alone and continued walking until a couple blocks later we got a call from Matt telling us that as soon as his Mom heard the area we were walking through she got in the car and now they were on their way to come pick us up. We got back to the house and stuffed our face with some delicious Chicago style pizza.

Next day we got in the cars and set the GPS for Des Moines, Iowa. We would have set it for a national forest in Iowa, but there aren’t any of those there. Anyway, Iowa is for another day. Chicago and Illinois was now officially checked off the list.

For video remember to check out Eric’s and Tweedy’s Youtube channels.

Missouri... Mizory... Mizery... Misery

I don’t know what kind of spell Missouri cast over us, but for some reason as hard as I think I cannot recall anything super interesting happening the first couple days that we were there. We woke up on the fifth of September with the intention of documenting what had already happened so far on our trip. You know, get the journals written, the photos compiled, the videos edited, and of course, the blogs written. But as you will all have noticed at this point, I only posted one blog that day, and that blog was as short as could be seeing as the subject matter was Kansas. As far as productivity was going for that day we were down near zero.

“Still something must have happened” you say, and to that I nod my head a bit and try my best to recall what we did with all the time that we had that day. Here is a real streamlined approach to it (because wasting words on doing nothing seems like such a lousy thing to do, of course I suppose that is exactly what I’m doing now, how many words have I shoved in this parenthetical statement already? Okay, maybe wasting words on nothing is more up my alleyway after all).

1.         Wake up and I make the morning oatmeal out on the front porch after Katt leaves for work. (Morning oatmeal is pretty much a sweeter rendition of evening beans, for this particular oatmeal I accidentally overloaded on the amount of molasses that I included, something that I have made sure to avoid since)
2.          Sit around and try to get some work done on social media outlets while trying to ignore the rising heat and humidity.
3.         Move around to the back side of the building to get some shade and snack on some food.
4.         Realize that we really are getting nothing done plus we can’t get access to the wifi at the back of the building so maybe we should go see if we can find the Missouri river.
5.         Wander aimlessly through town with a vague idea of the direction we should be going.
6.         Run into a random wall of trees in the middle of town and try and make our way through the brush eventually finding ourselves in a heavily wooded patch of land right in the middle of the city, eventually get out and back to the road.
7.         Decide to go back and get the cars and drive to the river.
8.         Get waylaid by stumbling across a whole bunch of Monarch Butterfly Chrysalises.
9.         Run into Katt when she gets home, find out we can check out the pool and community center there at the apartment complex
10.       Check out the pool and community center at the apartment complex
11.        Do a tiny bit of writing.
12.        Have a small little party to celebrate my birthday as we slip into September 6^th

Wow, that is quite a few words I wasted on nothing. And that was even with breaking it down to bullet points. Anyway, my birthday, September 6^th, came in with everyone waking up late and then once everyone was awake Katt treated us all to my birthday lunch. It was at a popular Kansas City chain restaurant called 54^th Street Pub and Eatery. The sandwiches there were beyond delicious, and the local beer I tried was delicious—very smooth, slight hint of fruit, and only a bit of bitterness on the finish. Once again, major shout-out to Katt for being the best hostess ever.

After hanging out for a bit longer we got in our cars and drove a few hundred miles to Jefferson City where we met up with Aaron, an old roommate of Tweedy’s and Eric’s (since I had hung around those two constantly I knew him as well). He offered us a floor to crash on in a room that had enough air conditioning to keep us at a decent temperature to fall asleep at—a rare thing to find in the state of misery… I mean Missouri. Our time at Aaron’s only extended through the night, then we were up and on the road again the next day on the search to find a cave.

Missouri is known for being the cave state and so we were hoping to find some cave that did not have any of the tourist walks in it, so that we could just go spelunking in it without anyone constantly staring over our shoulders, unfortunately that was not what ended up happening. We found Meramec Caverns on the map and so decided to head towards that cave since it also appeared to be near a state park. Our reasoning was even if Meramec Caverns was a tourist trap then at least we could wander through the state park and perhaps find a cave that was free of the irritating tour guides and regulations and planned routes through easily accessible segments of cave.

We reached the outskirts of Meramec and Eric and Tweedy had the keen desire to rinse off beforehand because they had been traveling through the land of endless humid heat in a car that had no air conditioning (personally I felt great, which will surprise my family since they all think my car has a horrible air conditioning system—turns out that all you have to do for it to work at 100% is fill the car with a whole bunch of stuff and drive through states with high humidity). So we stopped off at a river and swam around for a bit before going on to the cave entrance.

Meramec Caverns was indeed a tourist trap, and the price for a single adult was high above what we agreed to turn down ($15 had been our agreed maximum, the price was $23). We tried haggling with the tour guide behind the counter along with trying to figure out caves that we could go into without paying a fee. He mentioned a few places (actually he mentioned ten different locations, though didn’t include any directions to any of them) along with some encyclopedic type knowledge about the caves and types of caves in the state of Missouri. Though despite all of his knowledge we ended up skipping finding a cave to go spelunking in and instead headed on to a nearby state park called Elephant Rock.

To sum up Elephant Rock—it looks like a little bit of Colorado in the middle of Misery, I mean Missouri.

We hiked all over the rocks and even all the way to the opposite side of the park while we were in search of one of Jesse James’ hideouts that one of the people there told us about. He was going to give us very specific directions, but Tweedy didn’t want to hear them for some reason. Because of that we never found his old hideout, but we did find two old granite quarries that had since filled with water. If it hadn’t been sitting water we probably would have jumped in.

We stayed there until the sun dipped down below the horizon, even made some food at one of the park benches, and then we were on the road for Illinois.

For video check out these channels on YouTube: Eat2Pigs and itawtidid

Kansas... Yeah

I decided that the way to handle the road trip across the nation would be to give at least one blog post for each state. And our first stop was Kansas.

The day was September 2, 2016. I got up early and packed up my car then picked up David Tweedy and then met up with Eric Tedesco at his place in Parker. We said goodbye to our families in turn and snapped a photo to commemorate the beginning of the trip.

First stop was the great state of Kansas.

Now I spent a while considering just what I should say about Kansas since there is just so much in this state. I mean it’s Kansas.

So, Kansas… Yeah. It’s flat.

That’s all I’ve got for you as far as Kansas goes.

Next stop, Nebraska

Cliff Hangers

Now I don’t know how many people have ever woken up inside of a national park, but I would recommend putting it on the bucket list. Up in the mountains it had been a bit too chilly for me. Out there on the edge of the canyon I woke in weather that I felt comfortable going around in a t-shirt with. (That’s really saying something for a guy who needs four layers to go out in 32° weather.) It was a beautiful sight to see and hear in the morning as well: the crashing of the river several hundred feet below with great dark rock rising out of it.

I took the first hour of the day to admire the highly underappreciated canyon before heading on to complete my collection of the four National Parks in Colorado. This meant driving for another four and a half hours down to Mesa Verde National Park. This drive included a winding road that was one of the best drives I have ever taken. If my memory serves me correctly (which, quite honestly, is a long shot—I hardly ever trust my memory myself, so I would encourage you to approach it with the same trepidation) it was Colorado Highway 92. The curves were beautiful hairpins with hills ascending and descending. I got to really slam through all of the gears in my little Honda CR-V. This is a rarity because I am already up into fifth gear by 35 miles per hour. Honestly, there is hardly any horsepower in that little engine. Still love it though.

After the 4.5 hours of driving I managed to pull into the park around 3:30, but I had no idea how huge the park was. It was a 30 mile drive in to get to the hike that I wanted to go on. That was about an hour of driving just to get to the trailhead. Not to mention that I was only 40 miles from hitting 400 miles on my tank, which is much further than I’ve gone on a single take before, but I was not about to turn around and go back five miles down the road to fill up my tank. That would take even more time, and all the sky around the park was already looking dark and ominous. In I drove, taking advantage of every downhill—riding it with my foot on the clutch—which made my approach to some of the hair pin turns a bit faster than they should have been in an SUV. Still, I made it alive and that is all that matters.

Usually Mesa Verde is one of the more crowded parks, so I was expecting a huge crowd of people, but instead there was hardly anyone there when I arrived. One of the park rangers told me that things die down during August for some bizarre reason. Because apparently it all picks back up again in September when a whole bunch of tourist groups start coming by in bus loads. But in August things are slow. So I got two National Parks almost all too myself, at least there were no other people on the trail with me so I got to take my time reading the signs and learning about the different parts of the architecture. Most people think of the cliff dwellings when they hear about Mesa Verde National Park, but before the natives ever lived on the face of the cliffs they just lived on the top of the mesas. Which is what I saw first. The best part are the Kivas.

I can’t help but imagine Native Americans tripping out on something while holding religious rituals inside of these earthen pits. The interesting thing is that they were most common during the older generations and later generations just filled them in, sometimes even using them to dump trash in. There’s one way to really rebel against the faith of your fathers.

After touring the ruins on top of the mesa I went to check out the cliff dwellings, and honestly that is where the real excitement lies.

Look at those places! Who gets it in their head that just living on top of flat ground doesn’t sound exciting anymore. They were probably all sitting in the Kiva passing the peace pipe and one guy just said, “Ever see those holes in the cliffs around here?”

“Yeah man, those look pretty cool.”

“Wouldn’t it be awesome to put one of these Kivas in one of those holes?”

“Dude, that would be sweet! It would be like underground, but also above ground, and then there would be this epic drop right outside of the door. And then only cool people who can climb like bosses could get in there.”

“Totally! We should definitely do that man. Then we wouldn’t have to have around all the old and sick people and the women and children while we were hanging out and smoking the peace pipe.”

And then they made the kiva and then the women, children, and sick people started just busting up the party and then they just decided, “Heck, if everyone is going to keep on coming down here to bug us we might as well build the entire town into the cliff.” There, that is my story of how and why the cliff dwellings came to be. There were no wars or anything like that, just a few guys trying to get some guy time, failing, and then everyone moving in because they all thought it was pretty cool.

Personally I would not have been one of the cool people who would be capable of making it to the Kiva. Good ol’ Darwin would have snatched me out of that gene pool in a second. I preferred snapping pictures from afar. And after my pictures I managed to get my car back out of the park and to the gas pump without the fuel light coming on. Then I continued driving until I got into Durango and pulled my car over into a Walmart parking lot where I slept the night after spoiling myself and buying some doughnuts, a sandwich, and a Lunchable. That is getting spoiled when compared to just eating packets of salmon or tuna along with a can of beans occasionally.

Next morning I woke up with a text from my Mom telling me that my little sister needed to see me update my blog, so I went and spent the morning getting a blog post written and pictures uploaded at the public library (the Durango library is a bumpin' place) before going and taking a ten-mile hike. This hike started at a random pull off on the side of the road. I saw a sign that said trailhead, and the way I am with constantly craving a hike I decided to pull over and give it a look. Turned out it was supposed to be a mountain biking trail, but I went hiking on it any way. Something tells me that mountain bikers hate having people just hiking on the trails—just an extra obstacle you have to watch out for and all. Still, I didn’t much care, it was a beautiful day that was just begging me to go hiking during it. And so I wandered around for about 4 hours. Found some good lookout points too.

It was a huge system of trails, which made the sign at the foot of the trail a liar, because it claimed that it was just a single loop, but the map up the trail a ways said quite differently. The red is the route I ended up taking.

After the hike it was back to more driving. Right as the sun was setting I ended up just pulling up a random road that claimed to be National Forest access. I found a nice overlook where I could watch the sunset and then I kicked back and smoked a very nice cigar while the sun fell behind the mountains. It was the perfect end to the evening, and almost an end to all of my adventures by myself. The next day I would just end up driving home, but not before waking up and finding giant elk hoof prints going around my car. Apparently something about my car got it’s attention, or maybe I was just snoring way too loud and it showed up to see if it could shut me up. Whatever the case, those were definitely some giant hoof prints.

And so my lonesome wanderings came to an end. Stay tuned for the post going up tomorrow about the beginning of the wanderings of the 3 Men on the Bummel.