Day 22 - Utah Revisited

Nothing should surprise me anymore. The western half of Utah bore no resemblance to its eastern counterpart. I started off driving through mountains, moved into desert and flat plains (that looked like salt rather than sand) and ended up in a city that looked like it was right outside of a beach.

The Utah desert had many stretches of white sand, and the winds picked it up quite easily. Dust storms plagued Arizona, but the sandstorms I saw in Utah were so huge and complex I wasn't sure what I was observing.

Another interesting thing about Utah is that each town had its initial painted onto a prominent mountain to identify location from the air. It was a helpful device in passing the time and gauging distance.

Salt Lake City was interesting, but nowhere near as captivating as the lake itself. The city is set against a backdrop of enormous snowy mountains, and it is far more developed and lively than presumed, though everything dies down fairly early. Most famous for the Mormon Temple, this part of the city is very aesthetically impressive. However, the lake dwarfs the architecture easily. Driving towards the Great Salt Lake transports you to the Mediterranean, with salt in the air, mist covering the water, and rock jutting out of the dark lake. One minute you're in the desert, the next you feel you're at the beach and you're truly in a whole different world. Before you have a chance to grasp what you're seeing, you enter a city in the mountains.

My determination was impeccable. Even taking an hour to explore the Mormon history, I stepped foot in three states that day. I made it to Wyoming, braving pitch black curving roads in the angry rain.

See pics at http://picasaweb.google.com/cyprian.mendelius

Day 21 - Nevada

I drove all the way from Monterey to Nevada through the Sierra. I again saw snowcapped mountains and spectacular forests. This is where the roads began to get insane. Single lane roads with no guard rails through the winding mountains, half the time at night, and half of that time in the rain and bellowing thunder.

Taking a bit of a break, I spent a few hours in Reno, which was fun. I kept pushing on to Winnemucca, which was also full of casinos. And apparently hookers. As I was complaining about the shoddy wireless internet at the front desk the next morning, a fellow patron told me that the best wireless was at the brothels. They weren't kidding when they said you learn something new every day.

Days 17-20 California

Leaving the Grand Canyon was difficult, but it did feel triumphant. I drove for about 4 hours as the sun was setting to Scottsdale. Yes three weeks later I was back! It brought back great memories.

The next morning I hit the hot tub before breakfast and then hit the road to California. Driving through Scottsdale made me feel very important among the expensive cars and gorgeous people. That part of Arizona was beautiful, and then I hit more desert and sand dunes. I drove through the infamous Yuma and arrived in California finally.

Most annoying about this leg of the trip was the vast amount of border patrol checkpoints, even though I never left the country.

I drove through the mountains the rest of the day and arrived in San Diego, and to my disbelief it was rainy. I settled in and made my way to the Gaslamp before turning in for the night, missing my friend Deb I was hoping to see.

The next day I went to Coronado for some beaching, but again it was nasty outside. I sampled some local cuisine, which was oddly disappointing, then took off for more adventure. I experienced the awful LA traffic and stopped in Sherman Oaks on Ventura Blvd. It was shocking to see so many plastic people.

I drove on Highway 1 all the way to Santa Maria. Seeing the Pacific Ocean at dusk from the ridge of the highway was cinematic to say the least. The next day I arrived in Monterey, which my father had always raved about. I went to the harbor and ate some more (disappointing) fish. It was wonderful watching the sun set on the water in one of my father's favorite places. Here I finally felt the accomplishment of driving from one coast to another.

Deciding to take in the moment, I stayed the night in Monterey before driving through Silicon Valley, Castroville (the artichoke capital of the world) and Sacramento, towards Nevada.

From here on out, it was a race to get back home, and I had to alter my original plans to see much of the northern states. I took it in stride and enjoyed the majestic drive across the continent.

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Day 16 - Grand Canyon

Well, the moment has finally arrived. The Grand Canyon was my grand prize. And there really aren't words to describe it, so I'll keep this one short on words and heavy on pictures.

I spent all day there, eating and drinking like a horse, taking as many pictures as humanly possible. It was slightly overcast and it rained in patches, but I still was able to get some spectacular views. I came in from the South Rim, and went all the way east to Desert View, taking pictures all along the way.

One point of interest was the Tusayan Ruins, which weren't much to look at, but full of history about the forgotten community that once inhabited them. There were lots of snakes(!) which I avoided but also a thornbush called the crucifixion thorn. The park is at the same latitude as Biblical Jerusalem, thus with apparently a similar climate, and this thornbush that grows in the park is believed to be the same kind of bush that lent itself to Christ's crown of thorns. Intriguing.

The Grand Canyon is breathtaking. At one unnamed lookout, a few minutes east of Grandview Point, the view was so incredible, so magnetic, that in my inability to walk away, I felt an urge to jump out into the canyon. Not because I felt I had no more living to do, but because the scene was so divine, I literally felt like I could fly.

Photographs

Day 15 - Four Corners - Utah, New Mexico, Colorado, Arizona

Barrelling through the Rockies was both exciting and terrifying, given the ever-changing slick weather conditions, and once I crossed the state line into Utah, I thought it would be smooth sailing. However, I was in for a surprise as eastern Utah was the most isolated place I had seen yet, and I hadn't been paying attention to my gas level. It was 10 p.m., very dark, and I noticed the light come on. There were only 3 towns in the first 45 minutes of my drive, and the first two had zero services. I knew that I would be cutting it close, or winding up alone in the pitch dark of the desert, with likely no cell service. Luckily, with about 10 more drivable miles in my tank, I found a Shell station and gassed up.

Of course, this wasn't my only obstacle for the night. No, the hits kept on coming. As I drove through Moab, I came to realize the second major point of importance I had ignored: Memorial Day Weekend. Not working in general makes you lose track of dates, and even moreso when you're on a trip like this not paying strict attention to a schedule. So long story short I drove all through Utah having no luck finding an available hotel.

An hour later I crossed back into Colorado on the way to Four Corners, and I found a small family-owned inn with vacancy. With all the white-knuckle driving and glimpses of terror I encountered in the past 6 hours, it was not a restful night for me.

The next day, I drove into Arizona and found my way to Four Corners, the only place in the United States where you can stand in one point and be in four states at once: Utah, Colorado, Arizona, and New Mexico. I took some pictures and took the experience in, then took back into Arizona.

I was not feeling well at this point and the trip had been wearing on me. I was pretty thoroughly exhausted and dehydrated, not being used to the dry heat. Dizzy out of my mind, I had a good long chat with Catie and then took a personal day in Tuba City to recuperate.

After some medical research, the next few days would be filled with unreasonable amounts of gatorade and mineral water, as well as less-than-tasty energy bars. I needed to be in top shape for the Grand Canyon!

Day 12-14 Colorado

My Kansas epiphany was not meant to be such; it was really just necessary land to trek to reach Colorado to visit my friend Tim and see the Rockies. I guess there is some truth to "things never go as planned."

Late Friday night, after driving through rare storms and increasing my elevation with each beautiful passing town, I arrived in Denver. My fellow writer friend and brother from another Tim had been out at a jazz show, and we were both ready to catch up.... and throw down.

It's almost needless to say that we made short work of some tall glasses of Jack Daniels. He also had some 11 year-old Czar stout in his fridge, and we put that to pasture as well.

We discussed our pasts and our futures, philosophy and sports, religion and music, reading and writing, ying and yang. Fairly late into the night, we decided to hit downtown's Colfax Ave and publicize our debauchery. We wrapped the night at the notorious Pete's Kitchen, where all the dregs of Denver's nightlife populate to eat breakfast in the middle of the night. We saw some real characters, including a whole new class of slutty club-goers, several mohawk-rockers--one of whom was 7 feet tall--and a hippie with holes in his ears the size of chips ahoy cookies and a beard the size of Tim's torso. We wrapped the night just before the sun rose.

The next day, we stopped by Tim's grandfather's house, where I met the realest old man I have ever met. As he drank his Beast Light, he dwarfed my entire trip with a story about his trip to California with his buddies in 1946, where he ran out of money on the way back, and he had to walk through Texas because no one wanted to pick them up as they hitchhiked.

Afterwards, we went downtown to the 16th Street Mall, which is more like a European old town square than any mall I've seen. It's a long strip of outdoor stores and taverns with their storefronts facing a tree-sprinkled cobblestone pedestrian street, only allowing for shuttle busses, trolleys, and horse-drawn carriages to pass. We kept dodging quick but torrid rain showers as we took in the local scenery, which had sprung up from the dilapidated warehouse district after the Rockies became a baseball team.

Once the torrential downpour became steady, we took refuge in a brewery nearby Union Station and met a friend of Tim's. We drank the afternoon away only to get caught in the rain several more times in our long voyage back to the car.

This adventure made us tardy to the birthday kegger in Aurora. I met Tim's friends and family, including his forever young Uncle Bill, and we ate cake, watched basketball, and drank awesome beer for the rest of the night.

Sunday morning, it was time to get back on the road, and I took west to the Rocky Mountains. Unfortunately, I was caught in the rain several times, which made the drive at times dangerous and stressful. I was able to witness some terrific views of the mountains and lakes. Particularly interesting were the snow-capped peaks, especially since they seemed so close to the road. I spent a wonderful afternoon winding through the mountains, seeing some amazing sights and recording them all with my camera.

Photographs

Day 11 - Kansas

I drove into Kansas wondering if I'd come across any tornados, but instead I was swept away in a completely different way. I expected Kansas to be boring and redundant in its landscape, but I was pleasantly taken aback by its awe-inspiring natural beauty.

The grassy plains turned into swaying wheat and corn fields, and then to rolling emerald hills I only expected to see in Ireland. The shallow, flat land began to dip into cascading valleys, creating a recurring slope ahead into the horizon. The road became a dividing path between bright green stoic ramparts. The turbines rose into the sky like beacons of a new day, channeling the wind in perfect unison like soldiers marching to battle in slow motion. With the robust clouds frozen above like a lithograph, the horizon seemed to beckon straight into heaven.

I had a profound connection with the land of Kansas, and driving along its passing staples was both exciting and rewarding spiritually. I drove for 12 hours and it seemed like a joyride. No fatigue, no restlessness, no boredom. I stopped in no cities, just in small farm towns, and took amazing photographs. It was an entire day perfect for looking within and finding myself anew, with the most spectacular natural backdrop providing the context.

Kansas was a metaphor for this entire trip: finding beauty in unlikely places; finding wisdom in simplicity; finding adventure in your proverbial backyard; finding freedom among constant; finding completion within.

Photographs

Day 9 & 10 - Arkansas and Missouri

With Memphis being such an enlightening experience, and having been in Tennessee so long, it was difficult to finally take the leap and drive across the Mississippi. But the afternoon was fading, and I chose to invigorate for my next adventure.

Right after taking pictures in the park, I hopped in the car and took off blazing towards Arkansas. This was my official introduction to the Midwest, which I was quite excited about. I’ve often romanticized driving through the plains, hills, fields, and farms of the Midwest, passing the original American way of living off the land in slow motion. The scenery of the farmlands of the Midwest is inspiring to me, and feels natural— bringing me closer to the earth. The air is more pure; I feel more alive. To some, driving through cornfields and long stretches of undeveloped plains may be monotonous, but to me, it feels like I’m truly experiencing life, taking part in the active passing of time.

Arkansas was full of the barns and silos I was expecting, and made for a nice drive as the sun began its descent. I was not there long and didn’t stop to take any defining photographs, because sooner than I realized, I had driven into Missouri. Route 70 West is a spectacular road for the traveler trying to do soul searching, because so much of it is surrounded by the beauties of rural America, and much of it passes directly through or parallel to small towns.

Missouri was an interesting state to drive through. More billboards with religious messages plastered the highway. Sunset over long-reaching farmland on the horizon was breathtaking. I loved seeing the sway of the cornfields and the different hues of grass. It was amazing to me that at 8 p.m., farmers were still in their tractors tilling the land. Now, that’s hard work.

I settled for the night outside of St. Louis and reflected on the magnificent afternoon drive. In the morning I drove into the heart of St. Louis and headed directly towards the Arch. Did you know that it is actually in a national park? I did not. I didn’t expect it to be surrounded by green grass, trees, and a pond.

How they came up with the concept for this structure, and how they then put it together is beyond me. It’s truly a testament to the imagination.

One thing that annoyed me about the people of St. Louis—I don’t think this could have possibly applied to only tourists—is that they love to wear orange. Orange shirts, orange hats, hell, orange pants. If this sounds trite, well, I mainly took notice because these people kept popping up in my pictures, distracting completely from the subjects. Also, it’s bad enough that it’s an eyesore, but when presented en masse, it becomes downright scary. Like I missed the open call for cult members.

After taking as many Arch photos as I possibly could, I drove back into the plains, enjoying every minute of the next several hours. My next stop was Jefferson City, because it was one of many city names I had heard thrown around and knew nothing about.

I drove to the town square, and explored the capitol building and St. Peter’s Catholic Church across the street. This made me raise an eyebrow; I didn’t think Catholicism was that big in this part of the country. The inside of the capitol looked like it had been inspired by the interiors of Roman architecture. Sculptures and frescoes adorned the halls. Jefferson City’s settlement history laid within these walls, and from what I was told, there was always something to do in this town. So what did I do? Go to the local coin Laundromat and wash my clothes. In this Midwestern capital. If that’s not Americana, I don’t know what is.

I finished my evening by taking a detour to the Lake of the Ozarks, which I recognized from books I read when I was younger. The mountain lake was gorgeous at sunset. Yet another example of how people outside of beaches try to create beach-style towns anywhere they can for local vacationers.

A long drive through Kansas awaited me next.

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