I woke predawn (and by that, I mean I opened my eyes around that time, cause "sleep" could not describe what was going on) and waited for the booth to open so we could pay too much to enter the park and await the coming dawn. We were in luck, however, in that sunrise was magnificent. In addition, there was very little little traffic, so we had full run of the place and got all the views and photos we wanted, took our time driving through the park, and then continued North to Natural Bridges National Monument. Here is a small video of sunrise:
(btw, I am laughing cause no one slept the night before, so "good morning" is kind of a joke)
During the first 30 minute stretch outside of Monument Valley, the ground rose up and a huge expanse of land unfolded in front of my windshield. As we rose out of the mesas onto the plateau, I had this immense sense of belonging. It was overwhelming, the connection I felt with the ground and clouds and sunbeams and greens and browns and tans and blues and reds and reeds and horizon and the imaginary connection between it and the sky and the ground and me...and I am not afraid to admit, I started crying. I don't know exactly what was so sad and so beautiful about what was happening, all I know is that I had to pull away from it, cause I was about to fully break down into a full sob. Nothing wrong with that, it is just that I was still driving, and I had to think about doing that for a minute, and when I came back to what was in front of me, the moment had gone.
I can only describe it as being taken out of perspective. A "disassociated" experience if you will, as if you were playing a video game on flat screen all your life and suddenly you were given a full, wrap around system. Suddenly you have a peripheral that is infinite, yet you can't move for a fear of losing this total, naked view of the world around you. I became an eyeball with no lens, no iris, and no body, just one big pupil, taking it all in and learning so much new information that the brain is bypassed and the soul learns directly what the Universe is teaching...or something like that. You kinda had to be there, and if you have been, then you know; and if you have not, then pray that someday you will.
So we then drove up a cliff to get to Natural Bridges National Monument. It is hard to keep saying "no exaggeration" after every descriptor, but seriously, it was a cliff. The grade was around 10-12%, much of the road was unpaved, and I had my doubts about making it up the 1000 vertical foot climb to the top of the plateau. Luckily, the car is a beast, and she made it up just fine and we were on our way to Bridges. Once there, brochures in hand, we drove to the first two overlooks, which by this time in our trip and where our bodies and minds were in terms of wear and tear, they did not seem so impressive. However, it was impossible to get any kind of scale, considering the Statue of Liberty could fit under the first one we saw, but from half a mile away, the scale became so skewed that even knowing how tall it is was a moot point, cause there was no way to visualize it. Anyhow, we walked down to the third bridge, took pics, took a pause for some needed rest, and then back to the car and off to the Canyonlands.
Anyhow, I couldn't drive anymore, so after we filled up on gas and had lunch at a Subway, Tom took over and led us into the Canyonlands. The approach was surreal: the road follows a gorge bottom that is surrounded by these massive cliffs that seem to go on forever. The landscape takes on an alien feeling, as if we were on some distant planet that has yet to be discovered by any being. Of course, this is how Tom and I would probably describe it. Jeff couldn't describe it if he wanted to. Not that he lacks the artistic ability, he was just sleeping through it all...again. So we make it to the Visitor Center, get a map, and drive around looking at all the tourist spots for a bit. We get out for about an hour and climb around at a dead end for a bit, and I came to realize how easy it was to get lost and confused in that place. We only went a few hundred yards in, on well-used "trails" and on the same rock formation, but get just one formation over, and everything looked the same, and it was near impossible to find the parking lot just a few hundred yards away. That was some pretty scary stuff, luckily we were too tired to do anything more than the drive-thru experience (which I am not proud of, but seriously, give us a break, this trip is getting long!) And once again, to the car and off to Arches National Park.
Here is a small view of Canyonlands:
If my writing seems like it is getting a little halfhearted, I assure you it is only a reflection of the writer's attitude at the time. At this point in our journey, we had visited 18 states in 20 days, hiked and visited around 13 national parks and monuments combined, countless state and national forests, and untold mileage to our retinas in terms of shear volumes of scenery...it is no wonder we were getting a little jaded. This is no more evident than at Arches. We already debated just not going there at all, but after some deliberation we entered the park, and after seeing the first few attractions without having left the car, we decided to get out to see Delicate Arch in all of its iconic familiarity, and we left the park as fast as we had come, walking only 100 feet outside the car to see an attraction: the real American Dream. Anyways, goodbye Utah.
So it was off to Gunnison, CO, where Marie Humenczuk had said she would hook us up with a shower and suggest a place to crash. Well, we ran into trouble right after eating at a Taco John's in Montrose, CO. We were supposed to take 50 into Gunnison, but we missed the turn and continued down 550 for about 30 minutes. Well, we were already running out of daylight when I noticed that the 14,309ft Uncompahgre Peak seemed a lot closer than the last time I was in Gunnison. That's when I asked our driver if he knew where we were, which he did not, and then I realized our mistake, and suddenly our 9pm ETA became 10pm. Well, night came and the mountain roads are taking longer than expected, and we arrive at Marie's nearing 11pm. After showering, we head out to a campsite she suggested, we decide to break the rules and camp at the parking lot (what would they do? Make us leave in the morning?) and we fight the swarm of mosquitoes to set the tents up and pass out happily under a wooden canopy.
Day Ninteen: Enriched Loathing Since Las Vegas
I wake up much later than Jeff and Tom. They had attempted to wake me up before (at around 8pm, I feel), but I was having none of it. Anyhow, I wake at 10 and start to move out (after a few chugs of the Jager, of course). I wander around for a bit, realize that although we found the cheap food, I had still not eaten near enough of it to make up for the past week or so. So I watch a round of the Bellagio water works, get a hold of Tom and tell him I will meet them at the food place. No mention of the dogs or the name of the bar, I just said "Tom, I am hungry, wanna get some food?" and he responded "Yeah, we'll meet you there." That's it, we all knew where to meet. Well, I get there first and as they attempt to walk in, one of the greatest things I had ever seen happen: the bar's bouncer told them they had to "finish [their] drinks on the street" before they could come in! Only in Vegas would someone tell you to finish your beer "outside" before getting more in that establishment. Well, we conversed and had our Miller Lights and cheap dogs with the new attractive bartender on shift, bought our roadies and headed out.
Jeff had a mission to make it to the Mirage, so we started what would end up being a trek of epic proportions, leading through numerous casinos, penny slots, beers, rum and cokes, throngs of hot Asian girls, exhaustion, passing out on handrails and finally, sweet, sweet sleep. Who knows what time it was then, but it was definitely today...
So we wake up at 11am, somehow, and have to be out of the room by Noon (well, either 11:30 or Noon, the point is that the Vegas hotels understand if you can't move before 11. Hell, they may not even be up fully by that time!) This was the day that I needed to get an oil change, and we were to drive all the way to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Well, a Noon start did not help, and slow service at the Jiffy Lube delayed our leaving Vegas till 2:30pm. Heavy construction traffic at the Hoover Dam delayed us even further, till we finally reached a Wendy's in Arizona at around 5pm.
Back up: Tom had barely moved, much less spoken this whole time. He was having a helluva time getting over his hangover in the sunny, blast-furnace temperature conditions of the back seat. Not being able to move around or put any fluids down cause of the constant motion of the car, we could visibly see his unease turn to pain then into agony right there in his private little Hell that was the ride into Arizona.
Anyhow, now that Tom's unforgiving pain had receded into an incessant dull throb, we somehow, unknowingly, entered the Twilight Zone. I am not kidding here. As we entered the line in Wendy's, the three of us shattered beings just stood still and spoke not a word for about 10 minutes. During that time I don't think I had but 5 thoughts go through my head, and none of them were complete, that's for sure. I was in a dazed state, utterly depleted and basically in survival mode: no unnecessary motions, actions, words, or thoughts that did not pertain directly to survival. I have no doubt that my companions were in the same state of mind for, after 10 minutes of standing in the exact same spot in the line, we all seemed to come out of the haze and notice our surroundings. (Later, no one could recall exactly how long it SEEMED like we were in line. Although the timeline works out to 10 minutes to that point, I could have sworn it was either 10 seconds or 2 hours, if those two accounts didn't contradict each other) At this point, I look at the time (again, having no idea how long we have been there), and realize no one has moved. We start to observe the actions of the employees: there seemed to be 3 cleaning the dining area, but at such a rate that the dust could accumulate faster than they could clean it; there were two managers standing behind the counters, also doing nothing; one employee was stocking cups into a front bin that already had around 100 in it; one woman was working the register (if you could call it working); one woman was on the drive-thru; and two men were on the line. Count it: 9 employees in the store, and no one had been served in about 10 minutes. This is no exaggeration, for the line of 10 or so people that were behind us when we had entered was now down to 1 besides ourselves. We would have left earlier, but as I said, we were in no state for rational thought. Around 10 more minutes pass before we get our food (along with a host of other unbelievable employee actions, too many to list even in this huge post), and we leave around 45 minutes after arriving, swearing off Arizona fast food forever.
So now I drive North up to the South Rim main entrance, and the weather and daylight start to turn for the worst. By the time we reach the Visitor Center, get some food and a bathroom break, the sun had begun to set. So we blitz as many outlooks as we can, taking pics and enjoying the mild weather. We don't make it to Lookout Tower before it is pitch black outside. After another small break, we decide that we might as well move on to Monument Valley that night, hoping that they will be open so we can throw out our tents and crash. As we leave the Canyon, it is so dark outside that at one point we stop and turn off all the lights in the car, and can't see our hands in front of our faces. However, the moon is full and the clouds eventually part to reveal a ghastly landscape of pillars mesas and buttes and mountains that loom in the indeterminable distance. I leave Arizona wondering if their motto "God Enriches" is from a better time, before fast food and campers. I am sure this is the case, and try to warm up to the idea of Utah.
Monument Valley is closed, and we park next to another late arriver (or early, depending on how you look at it), and we attempt to sleep in the car. It didn't happen, but that's tomorrow's story.
Jeff had a mission to make it to the Mirage, so we started what would end up being a trek of epic proportions, leading through numerous casinos, penny slots, beers, rum and cokes, throngs of hot Asian girls, exhaustion, passing out on handrails and finally, sweet, sweet sleep. Who knows what time it was then, but it was definitely today...
So we wake up at 11am, somehow, and have to be out of the room by Noon (well, either 11:30 or Noon, the point is that the Vegas hotels understand if you can't move before 11. Hell, they may not even be up fully by that time!) This was the day that I needed to get an oil change, and we were to drive all the way to the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. Well, a Noon start did not help, and slow service at the Jiffy Lube delayed our leaving Vegas till 2:30pm. Heavy construction traffic at the Hoover Dam delayed us even further, till we finally reached a Wendy's in Arizona at around 5pm.
Back up: Tom had barely moved, much less spoken this whole time. He was having a helluva time getting over his hangover in the sunny, blast-furnace temperature conditions of the back seat. Not being able to move around or put any fluids down cause of the constant motion of the car, we could visibly see his unease turn to pain then into agony right there in his private little Hell that was the ride into Arizona.
Anyhow, now that Tom's unforgiving pain had receded into an incessant dull throb, we somehow, unknowingly, entered the Twilight Zone. I am not kidding here. As we entered the line in Wendy's, the three of us shattered beings just stood still and spoke not a word for about 10 minutes. During that time I don't think I had but 5 thoughts go through my head, and none of them were complete, that's for sure. I was in a dazed state, utterly depleted and basically in survival mode: no unnecessary motions, actions, words, or thoughts that did not pertain directly to survival. I have no doubt that my companions were in the same state of mind for, after 10 minutes of standing in the exact same spot in the line, we all seemed to come out of the haze and notice our surroundings. (Later, no one could recall exactly how long it SEEMED like we were in line. Although the timeline works out to 10 minutes to that point, I could have sworn it was either 10 seconds or 2 hours, if those two accounts didn't contradict each other) At this point, I look at the time (again, having no idea how long we have been there), and realize no one has moved. We start to observe the actions of the employees: there seemed to be 3 cleaning the dining area, but at such a rate that the dust could accumulate faster than they could clean it; there were two managers standing behind the counters, also doing nothing; one employee was stocking cups into a front bin that already had around 100 in it; one woman was working the register (if you could call it working); one woman was on the drive-thru; and two men were on the line. Count it: 9 employees in the store, and no one had been served in about 10 minutes. This is no exaggeration, for the line of 10 or so people that were behind us when we had entered was now down to 1 besides ourselves. We would have left earlier, but as I said, we were in no state for rational thought. Around 10 more minutes pass before we get our food (along with a host of other unbelievable employee actions, too many to list even in this huge post), and we leave around 45 minutes after arriving, swearing off Arizona fast food forever.
So now I drive North up to the South Rim main entrance, and the weather and daylight start to turn for the worst. By the time we reach the Visitor Center, get some food and a bathroom break, the sun had begun to set. So we blitz as many outlooks as we can, taking pics and enjoying the mild weather. We don't make it to Lookout Tower before it is pitch black outside. After another small break, we decide that we might as well move on to Monument Valley that night, hoping that they will be open so we can throw out our tents and crash. As we leave the Canyon, it is so dark outside that at one point we stop and turn off all the lights in the car, and can't see our hands in front of our faces. However, the moon is full and the clouds eventually part to reveal a ghastly landscape of pillars mesas and buttes and mountains that loom in the indeterminable distance. I leave Arizona wondering if their motto "God Enriches" is from a better time, before fast food and campers. I am sure this is the case, and try to warm up to the idea of Utah.
Monument Valley is closed, and we park next to another late arriver (or early, depending on how you look at it), and we attempt to sleep in the car. It didn't happen, but that's tomorrow's story.
Day Eighteen: What Happened here...
Morning comes all too quickly considering passing out does not count as sleep...Anyhow, we grab some beers to go (after finishing a few in the room while getting ready) and head out on the town around 11am. We realize very quickly that we had not had food since returning to Lone Pine at lunch the day before. And before then we did not eat much because of the altitude. And before that morning, we had drank all night. Our tummies were upset with us, mostly due to our choice in first calories of the day: beer. The motto for the day quickly became "Food. We have to find food."
We were looking for the cheapest food in town, but kept getting sidetracked by the many, many sights and sounds of Vegas. The fountains of the Bellagio? Awesome, but afterwards we needed food. The casinos Cesar and Flamingo? Awesome as well, but still no cheap food. Back to the Bellagio, where we encountered a group of about 8 men that looked like they could help us. Tom approaches and asks if there is any cheap food around. No one helps out at first, but then the man of the hour speaks up, "Uhhh, there is a dog and a beer for $2.50 down the street"
Bingo. We descend onto the bar like it was a wounded animal, and we were a pack of wolves midwinter. It is my kinda bar: 80's rock, cheap beer (in every way), and a decent looking bartender who gave us shit for being "lightweights" in her eyes. Well, needless to say we fell in love with the place fast. After our dogs and beers, we bought "roadies" (God I love Vegas!) and hit the strip again. From there the drinking started to take its toll. We were at the Flamingo and Tom needed to use the restroom. Jeff and I stayed right outside the bathroom for what was surely an hour, when I gave up and went into the bathroom and could not find Tom anywhere. We called him, but his phone was dead. So, at this point Jeff and I continued on for a while, hopping casino to casino, getting our drinks and moving on for two hours or so, until finally I call Tom once more, and lo and behold, he had gone back to the hotel and charged his phone.
Well, by this time we were at O'Malley's or O'Charlie's or O'Henry's...doesn't matter, cause there was beer pong there. I waited outside for over 30 minutes for Tom to arrive, then he and I had to go find Jeff, who also did not have a phone. We walk into the Irish Bar and Casino, find the beer pong tables, and take a seat at the bar. Right way we observe some terrible beer pong technique that these women are using that are apparently playing two-on-one against this guy, and I start to make my opinions heard about their elbows and arc. They may be bad, but not deaf, and catch on quick, asking me if I am criticizing them. "Yeah, I am talking about you two" I say matter of fact, and before they can show how offended they are, Jeff walks out of nowhere and joins the other side of the table, grabs a ball, and throws. Tom and I are speechless that not only did he walk right by us, and not only is he playing on the table against the women I was badmouthing, but he took a pee break? Well, that was too much. "Jeff!!!" Tom and I yelled out. He jumped two feet in the air and spun around to see us sitting right behind him.
Well, the afternoon from there went swimmingly. Jeff got laid and Tom and I tried to learn how to play craps. However, Tom and I each took a pitcher of beer with us out of the Irish pub to the next casino, so we are not reliable witnesses as to how to play craps. There are dice, that's about all I can recall about it. I think I made money...
So Tom and I walk back to the hotel, where Jeff is busy so we finish our now-warm pitchers by the pool. After that we rejoined our conqueror, Jeff, in the hotel room to pound some alcohol and take a nap....
So from here it is hard to tell where I should finish Today's commentary, considering it is today and tomorrow and the next day all at the same time during this period....So I will add it to "Tomorrow's" day.
We were looking for the cheapest food in town, but kept getting sidetracked by the many, many sights and sounds of Vegas. The fountains of the Bellagio? Awesome, but afterwards we needed food. The casinos Cesar and Flamingo? Awesome as well, but still no cheap food. Back to the Bellagio, where we encountered a group of about 8 men that looked like they could help us. Tom approaches and asks if there is any cheap food around. No one helps out at first, but then the man of the hour speaks up, "Uhhh, there is a dog and a beer for $2.50 down the street"
Bingo. We descend onto the bar like it was a wounded animal, and we were a pack of wolves midwinter. It is my kinda bar: 80's rock, cheap beer (in every way), and a decent looking bartender who gave us shit for being "lightweights" in her eyes. Well, needless to say we fell in love with the place fast. After our dogs and beers, we bought "roadies" (God I love Vegas!) and hit the strip again. From there the drinking started to take its toll. We were at the Flamingo and Tom needed to use the restroom. Jeff and I stayed right outside the bathroom for what was surely an hour, when I gave up and went into the bathroom and could not find Tom anywhere. We called him, but his phone was dead. So, at this point Jeff and I continued on for a while, hopping casino to casino, getting our drinks and moving on for two hours or so, until finally I call Tom once more, and lo and behold, he had gone back to the hotel and charged his phone.
Well, by this time we were at O'Malley's or O'Charlie's or O'Henry's...doesn't matter, cause there was beer pong there. I waited outside for over 30 minutes for Tom to arrive, then he and I had to go find Jeff, who also did not have a phone. We walk into the Irish Bar and Casino, find the beer pong tables, and take a seat at the bar. Right way we observe some terrible beer pong technique that these women are using that are apparently playing two-on-one against this guy, and I start to make my opinions heard about their elbows and arc. They may be bad, but not deaf, and catch on quick, asking me if I am criticizing them. "Yeah, I am talking about you two" I say matter of fact, and before they can show how offended they are, Jeff walks out of nowhere and joins the other side of the table, grabs a ball, and throws. Tom and I are speechless that not only did he walk right by us, and not only is he playing on the table against the women I was badmouthing, but he took a pee break? Well, that was too much. "Jeff!!!" Tom and I yelled out. He jumped two feet in the air and spun around to see us sitting right behind him.
Well, the afternoon from there went swimmingly. Jeff got laid and Tom and I tried to learn how to play craps. However, Tom and I each took a pitcher of beer with us out of the Irish pub to the next casino, so we are not reliable witnesses as to how to play craps. There are dice, that's about all I can recall about it. I think I made money...
So Tom and I walk back to the hotel, where Jeff is busy so we finish our now-warm pitchers by the pool. After that we rejoined our conqueror, Jeff, in the hotel room to pound some alcohol and take a nap....
So from here it is hard to tell where I should finish Today's commentary, considering it is today and tomorrow and the next day all at the same time during this period....So I will add it to "Tomorrow's" day.
Day Seventeen: The Highs and Lows of It...
So sleeping at 12,000ft is tough to do when two days before you were at sea level. The full moon and no clouds does not help as well. Being dehydrated is probably the worst thing you could do to compound the situation...however, knowing all this did not help prevent all three of us from succumbing to the side-effects of AMS. We all had a very restless sleep, I personally ended up getting perhaps 3 hours of sleep, 2 of which were good, solid hours. Unfortunately, those two hours started at around 2:30am, which means I woke up at around 4:30, about 30 minutes later than we wanted to be hitting the trail. So we break camp as fast as possible, and hit the trail at 5.
"What happened to the food?" you ask? Well, nothing at all. No marmots, bears, or other mini-bear critters got a hold of it. Of course not, it is us we are talking about...right? Nothing bad ever happens to Team Smell Bad.
Only two groups were ahead of us (from our side of the mountain), and we could see the winding trail that led up to the pass via headlamps of the other groups. As the hike progressed, pre-dawn light made it possible to hike without headlamps. We had to stop a few times for drink and food breaks...well, and for air. It was like we were swimming underwater and holding our breath: there was just no air. Every time we would stop it seemed like we could not catch our breath. This had a lot to do with being out of shape, a lot to do with being dehydrated and succumbing to AMS, and even more to do with there being no air at 13,000ft.
Sunrise was the most spectacular thing I think I have ever seen. Just rows and rows of mountains stretching out as far as the eye can see. The sky was blood-red, foretelling a hectic afternoon, so after a few pictures we pressed on toward the summit. After passing one of the two crews in front of us, we hit the pass, located at 13,600ft. Fatigue was really setting in, and I realized I had not eaten enough food, nor drank enough water because I was feeling too nauseous. This was obviously a sign of AMS, but I have too much pride, and shoved down a few granola bars and Slim-Jims with a few swigs of water and braved the sickness. Jeff, on the other hand, could not brave the sickness and yaked all over the trail, leaving a strong doubt in Tom and myself whether or not Jeff was going to be able to continue.
Well, he toughed it out, and soon enough on the 2 mile traverse to the summit, the end was in sight. It still took way too long to get there, but we summited at 8am. No one spoke for a while up at the summit, just trying to take it all in, both the view and the air. I laid down and took a 5 minute nap on the freezing cold rock right on the summit. It was glorious. After 30 minutes (which passed in seconds, it seems) we realized we needed to start moving down. Here is the view from the Top:
"What happened to the food?" you ask? Well, nothing at all. No marmots, bears, or other mini-bear critters got a hold of it. Of course not, it is us we are talking about...right? Nothing bad ever happens to Team Smell Bad.
Only two groups were ahead of us (from our side of the mountain), and we could see the winding trail that led up to the pass via headlamps of the other groups. As the hike progressed, pre-dawn light made it possible to hike without headlamps. We had to stop a few times for drink and food breaks...well, and for air. It was like we were swimming underwater and holding our breath: there was just no air. Every time we would stop it seemed like we could not catch our breath. This had a lot to do with being out of shape, a lot to do with being dehydrated and succumbing to AMS, and even more to do with there being no air at 13,000ft.
Sunrise was the most spectacular thing I think I have ever seen. Just rows and rows of mountains stretching out as far as the eye can see. The sky was blood-red, foretelling a hectic afternoon, so after a few pictures we pressed on toward the summit. After passing one of the two crews in front of us, we hit the pass, located at 13,600ft. Fatigue was really setting in, and I realized I had not eaten enough food, nor drank enough water because I was feeling too nauseous. This was obviously a sign of AMS, but I have too much pride, and shoved down a few granola bars and Slim-Jims with a few swigs of water and braved the sickness. Jeff, on the other hand, could not brave the sickness and yaked all over the trail, leaving a strong doubt in Tom and myself whether or not Jeff was going to be able to continue.
Well, he toughed it out, and soon enough on the 2 mile traverse to the summit, the end was in sight. It still took way too long to get there, but we summited at 8am. No one spoke for a while up at the summit, just trying to take it all in, both the view and the air. I laid down and took a 5 minute nap on the freezing cold rock right on the summit. It was glorious. After 30 minutes (which passed in seconds, it seems) we realized we needed to start moving down. Here is the view from the Top:
Going down always proves to be much faster than going up, but no less pain. The pain is different, but just as bad. Our legs, knees, and feet start to ache maddeningly with each step. We want to stop, but would rather stop at the bottom, where there is no more hiking to done. As the hike progresses, the switchbacks never seem to end, and the heat just rises and rises as we descend into the desert and into the afternoon. Once back at the car, packs drop, legs drop, and altitude quickly drops on the way back into Lone Pine.
The usual Double Cheeseburger and soda were awaiting us at McDonald's (I hate the food and the company, but dang they are cheap!). Into Death Valley we sped headlong, until we hit mountain range after mountain range in my badly wounded vehicle. The car had not had an oil change YET on the trip, which put around 6500 miles of really hard, overloaded, rough driving on the engine with no lubed relief. Oh, and did I mention it was driving through Death Valley? So after we passed our lowest point in the trip (altitude-wise) at -190 ft below sea level, the car could not negotiate the mountain ranges and the 120+ degree heat...and the needle began to rise. Immediately the AC was turned off. The air was being circulated in the car, so it stayed cool...for about 4 minutes. As we climbed higher, the temperature inside the car also rose, and the speed of the vehicle dropped inversely to the temps, and was peaking at around 25mph. Finally we topped a pass, and it was all downhill into Vegas...
But not without a stop in Paducah. That's right, Paducah, NV: a small, quaint desert town that has too many rednecks and not enough cowboys (that are sober). As we roll in, the decision is made to put at least 2 quarts into the engine, which is undoubtedly running on sand as lubricant at this point in time. At the first gas station we encounter, oil is purchased, and the restroom of the adjacent bar is utilized. Inside which, I found all the cowboys in the town (it was 5 o'clock somewhere, I am sure), and as I left the following scene played itself out:
A woman was on her cell phone near a broken-down camper. A truck pulls into the parking lot squealing like a bat out of Hell. A man and a woman jump out of the truck, inspect the camper, and then the man approaches the woman that was on the phone. The exchange heats up quickly, fingers are pointed, obscenities are yelled, and something about "knowing where you live" was shouted. During this, the other patrons of the gas station had stopped pumping their gas and were just watching the scene unfold. We were doing no such thing. As soon as the conversation became audible to us, we moved like a fine-tuned machine to get the oil in the engine, gas topped off, hood closed, and car out of the lot in 20 seconds flat. There was one unifying thought that was running through all of our minds: I do NOT want to die in Paducah Nevada. Well, we didn't.
A little while longer and the Vegas skyline came into view. We drove right onto the Strip, jaws on the floor as we ogled the shear extravagance of the city. Before we knew it, we were checked into our hotel, beer was purchased, and we were already hitting the town. However, because of all the excitement of the day (summit, desert, Paducah, Vegas!), we neglected to eat any food. This will continue well into the next day...
So we go to the first casino we see and order a round of Jager Bombs. Jager for two reasons: One, it is the best liqueur ever made. Two, we needed a little wake-up after the drive. We were also under the impression that it was cheap to drink in Vegas. Well, when the bartender said "that is $11 apiece" we thought we must have truly misheard him. Apparently not. Well, we coughed it up and hit the casino floor a little miffed. Oh well, that was soon forgotten when we learned the secret to Vegas: nickel and penny slots. Why, you ask? Well, because if you are gambling, the waitresses will bring you FREE drinks. Don't go to the bar to drink, they want you to gamble. Well, now that the cat was out of the bag, we drank for cheap the rest of the night, until I left for the Hooters casino, won a few bucks there, then jumped a few fences through construction sites and evaded some police to make my way back to the hotel to pass out.
Day Sixteen: Team Smell Bad, to the Rescue!
The drive back to Lone Pine was fairly quick, and since we knew we were only hiking 6 miles that day, that there was no real rush to get to the trail head. So after the ride to Lone Pine, a quick stop at the visitor center for directions and water, and of course two McDonald's double cheeseburger's for 99cents apiece....mmmm, good...we headed up to the trail head.
Of course, the car could only hit 30mph tops, but no biggie, we were in no hurry. A lot of people underestimate how fast we hike. Everyone we passes on the way up to Trail Camp, our destination for the night, looked at us like we were crazy for starting so late (2pm). Well, we were only hiking to 12,000ft, we were not hiking on any ridges, and the storms had pretty much missed us. There was a little rain, but we heard no thunder or anything, and many of the people coming down said it would take us 6 or more hours to get up there. HA! Although, no lie, it was tough as hell hiking up that mountain. I am not exactly what people would call a symbol of health, and we are low-landers, so the altitude and physical exertion are killing us. And the heat. It was 100 degrees at 8500 feet. That is hot. We were glad for the rain, it made the hiking a little more bearable. On our way up, we run into some people from the day before and the permit lottery. They looked like they were having a swell time...
Now, we were surprised at how many people were still coming down the mountain at 6pm. We figured that the people would have wanted to get off the mountain by 1pm tops. We were right outside Trail Camp, 4.4 miles from the summit, and there were many people still coming back from the top at 6pm. It seems to me that someone should know that you can't be up on a 14'er that late in the day, especially in late July, when it thunderstorms everyday up there. No wonder there is a large plaque that warns against lightning strikes...stupid yuppies...
Anyhow, that was about the time we ran into some people who were looking for cell reception. We did not help them out with that (although ours may have worked), and we then learn that there was an elderly woman, in her late 60's, suffering from hypothermia about a quarter mile from us. This gave us a little adrenaline boost as we rushed to her aid. She had about 4 people trying to help her eat and drink fluids. But after assessing the situation and interviewing the help, I see that the woman is in a bad spot. Quick rundown: she is in an emergency blanket, but is wet from a hailstorm earlier in the day; her clothes are wet; she has been sitting for half an hour and had not felt rested; she is shivering and can stop on command, but only momentarily; she is at 12,000ft; it is 6pm and the sun is setting; she is not able to eat or drink much; she is as old as time itself. Not a good situation. So, we drop packs, get a pot of water heated, fill it with half-strength Gatorade, get it in a Nalgene and against and in her belly in 4 minutes flat. We instruct her to eat, and with warm fluids she is able to eat easier, and within minutes we have her up and walking, with help, but walking down in elevation regardless. A job well done for Team Smell Bad (a whole other story if you don't know it. I may go into it at a later date).
So our campsite (thankfully pointed out to us by our nice neighbors) was pretty sweet. Flat spots made by people many years ago by removing tons of rocks and making really nice wind shelters with them. We filled our water in the most pristine mountain lake I have ever seen, with a vanish point view of the sky right over the Eastern edge of the lake...just absolutely amazing. After filling water, we cook an amazing dinner of Ramen and chicken in a can, we realize that I have brought way too much food to fit it all in the bear canister. We figure what are the odds of a bear up here? Although we all know it is high, the food is stashed under a massive rock and is wedged in with the bear canister. We would see if that worked...
Then after a little wondering around, we hit the sack, prepared to wake before the crack of dawn and hit the trail by 4am.
Of course, the car could only hit 30mph tops, but no biggie, we were in no hurry. A lot of people underestimate how fast we hike. Everyone we passes on the way up to Trail Camp, our destination for the night, looked at us like we were crazy for starting so late (2pm). Well, we were only hiking to 12,000ft, we were not hiking on any ridges, and the storms had pretty much missed us. There was a little rain, but we heard no thunder or anything, and many of the people coming down said it would take us 6 or more hours to get up there. HA! Although, no lie, it was tough as hell hiking up that mountain. I am not exactly what people would call a symbol of health, and we are low-landers, so the altitude and physical exertion are killing us. And the heat. It was 100 degrees at 8500 feet. That is hot. We were glad for the rain, it made the hiking a little more bearable. On our way up, we run into some people from the day before and the permit lottery. They looked like they were having a swell time...
Now, we were surprised at how many people were still coming down the mountain at 6pm. We figured that the people would have wanted to get off the mountain by 1pm tops. We were right outside Trail Camp, 4.4 miles from the summit, and there were many people still coming back from the top at 6pm. It seems to me that someone should know that you can't be up on a 14'er that late in the day, especially in late July, when it thunderstorms everyday up there. No wonder there is a large plaque that warns against lightning strikes...stupid yuppies...
Anyhow, that was about the time we ran into some people who were looking for cell reception. We did not help them out with that (although ours may have worked), and we then learn that there was an elderly woman, in her late 60's, suffering from hypothermia about a quarter mile from us. This gave us a little adrenaline boost as we rushed to her aid. She had about 4 people trying to help her eat and drink fluids. But after assessing the situation and interviewing the help, I see that the woman is in a bad spot. Quick rundown: she is in an emergency blanket, but is wet from a hailstorm earlier in the day; her clothes are wet; she has been sitting for half an hour and had not felt rested; she is shivering and can stop on command, but only momentarily; she is at 12,000ft; it is 6pm and the sun is setting; she is not able to eat or drink much; she is as old as time itself. Not a good situation. So, we drop packs, get a pot of water heated, fill it with half-strength Gatorade, get it in a Nalgene and against and in her belly in 4 minutes flat. We instruct her to eat, and with warm fluids she is able to eat easier, and within minutes we have her up and walking, with help, but walking down in elevation regardless. A job well done for Team Smell Bad (a whole other story if you don't know it. I may go into it at a later date).
So our campsite (thankfully pointed out to us by our nice neighbors) was pretty sweet. Flat spots made by people many years ago by removing tons of rocks and making really nice wind shelters with them. We filled our water in the most pristine mountain lake I have ever seen, with a vanish point view of the sky right over the Eastern edge of the lake...just absolutely amazing. After filling water, we cook an amazing dinner of Ramen and chicken in a can, we realize that I have brought way too much food to fit it all in the bear canister. We figure what are the odds of a bear up here? Although we all know it is high, the food is stashed under a massive rock and is wedged in with the bear canister. We would see if that worked...
Then after a little wondering around, we hit the sack, prepared to wake before the crack of dawn and hit the trail by 4am.
Day Fifteen: I Can't Drive...35?
We leave Josh's in the wee morning hours--around 7 or so--and make our way back up the state towards Lone Pine, CA. Lone Pine is located right in between Death Valley (the lowest point in the US) and Mt. Whitney (the highest point in the lower 48 states). We arrive in Lone Pine around 11am, with no permits to climb Mt. Whitney and no idea where to get them if there are any available. The visitor center sounded like a good plan, and we arrive just in time to enter the lottery for available permits to climb the mountain. With much undo suspense, we receive overnight permits for the next two days.
However, no one wants to hang around Lone Pine for the night, so without much hesitation, the car keeps its heading and finds our campsite for the night: Yosemite. On the way into Yosemite, we had to drive through Tioga Pass, which is at 9945 feet above sea level. Well, my car was way overloaded, way overheated, way over on an oil change, and way underpowered to make the climb needed to pass through Tioga Pass. With the gas pedal fully depressed, the car refused to go more than 30 miles an hour. Many of the cars that were passing us on the uphills, we had passed earlier doing twice their speed, now they were doing twice ours. Damn you 1.5 liter Mazda engine! Yeah, it was slow...
Once through Tioga Pass, we drove straight to the campsite and prepared for a quick little jaunt through the woods. Again, thanks to Backpacker Magazine's "Wildest Day Hikes" info, we avoid all the crowds and hike straight to North Dome--an easy 8+ mile round trip--and enjoy a full panoramic view of Half Dome, El Captain, and the rest of the valley. After a hour long, mostly quiet sit on the North Dome, we head back to our campsite at Porcupine Creek. Here was the veiw from North Dome:
Tom and Jeff cook up some Ramen and I attempt to read some before bed when suddenly: BEAR!! Tom yells and looks into the forest where a pair of eyes is watching us from the bush. We stare, it stares right back, we stare more...this goes on for a full minute before finally...the eyes bend down and pick up some grass in their mouth and start chewing it. Damn Mule deer! Anyhow, bedtime came not a minute too late.
However, no one wants to hang around Lone Pine for the night, so without much hesitation, the car keeps its heading and finds our campsite for the night: Yosemite. On the way into Yosemite, we had to drive through Tioga Pass, which is at 9945 feet above sea level. Well, my car was way overloaded, way overheated, way over on an oil change, and way underpowered to make the climb needed to pass through Tioga Pass. With the gas pedal fully depressed, the car refused to go more than 30 miles an hour. Many of the cars that were passing us on the uphills, we had passed earlier doing twice their speed, now they were doing twice ours. Damn you 1.5 liter Mazda engine! Yeah, it was slow...
Once through Tioga Pass, we drove straight to the campsite and prepared for a quick little jaunt through the woods. Again, thanks to Backpacker Magazine's "Wildest Day Hikes" info, we avoid all the crowds and hike straight to North Dome--an easy 8+ mile round trip--and enjoy a full panoramic view of Half Dome, El Captain, and the rest of the valley. After a hour long, mostly quiet sit on the North Dome, we head back to our campsite at Porcupine Creek. Here was the veiw from North Dome:
Tom and Jeff cook up some Ramen and I attempt to read some before bed when suddenly: BEAR!! Tom yells and looks into the forest where a pair of eyes is watching us from the bush. We stare, it stares right back, we stare more...this goes on for a full minute before finally...the eyes bend down and pick up some grass in their mouth and start chewing it. Damn Mule deer! Anyhow, bedtime came not a minute too late.
Day Fourteen: Surf's Up!
More days that need to be described with exclamation points...apparently. Anyhow, awoke late in the morning, put on swim trunks, and followed Josh to the airport to return his rental car. Almost died on the way, damn traffic, I had to quickly change lanes doing 90, miss a van, and yank back to make an exit. It was fun.
So, back to Josh's, all in my car now, and we hit up an In N' Out again. Again, amazing. We all got our stuff Animal Style, which is not on the menu, also known as a secret item. It is where you are able to order a second and third heart attack with one order! Think of the possibilities!
Then to Redondo Beach we went. It was pretty cool, we walked a long way down before deciding to turn back, then swim. The tide was coming in and the undertow was very strong, but the waves were perfect for body surfing. I have never been in such good surf. Although, there was one downside: uneven ground. One second you would be in waist high water, the next second you could not touch the ground and were inhaling the entire wave that has engulfed you...that, and the undertow kept pulling you out, even if you wanted to stay. But, we were fine, body surfed for a while, then made our way back to the car. We drove around the mansions that line the cliffs on the Pacific for a bit, then went back to Josh's apartment to get ready for dinner downtown.
We went to _(insert name of eatery here)_ , and after we were seated and looked at the menu, we all kinda realized that it was somewhat out of our price range. So, a consensus and reached pretty quickly: split two large platters between the four of us. The waitress recognized right away that we were hungry, poor young adults, and she quickly brought us some bread. It did not survive long. The platters came, and we went at them like Tasmanian Devils. In 20 minutes flat, we were in and out of the restaurant, full and happy. We walk around towards the docks for a while, then head back to the car. None of us drink too much back at the apartment, and sleep comes quickly.
So, back to Josh's, all in my car now, and we hit up an In N' Out again. Again, amazing. We all got our stuff Animal Style, which is not on the menu, also known as a secret item. It is where you are able to order a second and third heart attack with one order! Think of the possibilities!
Then to Redondo Beach we went. It was pretty cool, we walked a long way down before deciding to turn back, then swim. The tide was coming in and the undertow was very strong, but the waves were perfect for body surfing. I have never been in such good surf. Although, there was one downside: uneven ground. One second you would be in waist high water, the next second you could not touch the ground and were inhaling the entire wave that has engulfed you...that, and the undertow kept pulling you out, even if you wanted to stay. But, we were fine, body surfed for a while, then made our way back to the car. We drove around the mansions that line the cliffs on the Pacific for a bit, then went back to Josh's apartment to get ready for dinner downtown.
We went to _(insert name of eatery here)_ , and after we were seated and looked at the menu, we all kinda realized that it was somewhat out of our price range. So, a consensus and reached pretty quickly: split two large platters between the four of us. The waitress recognized right away that we were hungry, poor young adults, and she quickly brought us some bread. It did not survive long. The platters came, and we went at them like Tasmanian Devils. In 20 minutes flat, we were in and out of the restaurant, full and happy. We walk around towards the docks for a while, then head back to the car. None of us drink too much back at the apartment, and sleep comes quickly.
Day Thirteen: Just Our Luck
Up and at 'em in San Fran. Looks like it may be another dreary day, but by the time we hit the Presidio, the sun is out and it begins to look like a great day. We hang out in the park for a while, then head to downtown to find the Beatnik bookstore and Chinatown. We decide to find the curviest street in the world, Lombard Street. We miss our first turn, so we take the second which leads up up a very steep hill (the car was crawling at this point, so overloaded and no horsepower), and at the top of the hill, alas, was Lombard street directly to our left...we miss it the first time. No worries, Tom makes an easy u-turn, and we simply take a right onto Lombard.
Well, I say simply. That's how it happened, but I am the only one who sees the mile-long line of cars waiting on Lombard street to go down it. But, as we approach the road, we have right-of-way, take our right-hand turn, and cut off hundreds of people wanting to turn down the road...oh well, just like with the hikers in Glacier: you snooze, you lose. Especially because anyone could have found out that the Lombard does not carry the right-of-way and they could have chosen to go our way. But, once again, we prevail and park at the bottom of Lombard and make our way south down Columbia. We pass Little Italy, we pass some historic landmarks (thoughtfully pointed out to us by a passing tour bus, whose driver was on a loud speaker. As he passed us, he jokingly told us it would be $5 for the info), we start to get hungry as we pass more and more restaurants. The decision is made to eat at a small Italian place, where we get lunch specials, and it is the best Italian we have ever eaten (we were hungry, mind you). So from there we browse City Lights, aka the Beatnik Bookstore. It is where Bob Dylan, Jack Kerouac, and Allen Ginsburg would hang out. It is the largest collection of Beat literature in the world. It was pretty sweet, and I should have bought a book. But oh well, I am sure I will return.
We move on to Chinatown, through it, and back again in search for the Golden Gate cookie factory, which was closed that day. So we leave Chinatown and its busy streets and good smells, and head back for the car, which is and hour overdue in its two hour spot. No worries, cause once again we have escaped a ticket. We move the car a block or two down to the wharfs. They were okay, lots of people, lots of tourist traps, not a whole lot to do without spending money. We get back to the car after an hour of meandering and looking through a spy shop, then drive on to LA.
Traffic blew. We left SF at 2 or so, and it took 3+ hours to get through Oakland to Hwy 15. Then several more hours into LA. We saw one of the best sunsets of the trip on the into LA. Then LA traffic was awesome, 55mph speed limits, traffic going 80+mph, no one caring about the speed limit. It was sweet. Show up at Josh's at around 11 or so, we eat the best burgers I have ever had, and pass out on his floor cause he has no furniture as of yet.
Well, I say simply. That's how it happened, but I am the only one who sees the mile-long line of cars waiting on Lombard street to go down it. But, as we approach the road, we have right-of-way, take our right-hand turn, and cut off hundreds of people wanting to turn down the road...oh well, just like with the hikers in Glacier: you snooze, you lose. Especially because anyone could have found out that the Lombard does not carry the right-of-way and they could have chosen to go our way. But, once again, we prevail and park at the bottom of Lombard and make our way south down Columbia. We pass Little Italy, we pass some historic landmarks (thoughtfully pointed out to us by a passing tour bus, whose driver was on a loud speaker. As he passed us, he jokingly told us it would be $5 for the info), we start to get hungry as we pass more and more restaurants. The decision is made to eat at a small Italian place, where we get lunch specials, and it is the best Italian we have ever eaten (we were hungry, mind you). So from there we browse City Lights, aka the Beatnik Bookstore. It is where Bob Dylan, Jack Kerouac, and Allen Ginsburg would hang out. It is the largest collection of Beat literature in the world. It was pretty sweet, and I should have bought a book. But oh well, I am sure I will return.
We move on to Chinatown, through it, and back again in search for the Golden Gate cookie factory, which was closed that day. So we leave Chinatown and its busy streets and good smells, and head back for the car, which is and hour overdue in its two hour spot. No worries, cause once again we have escaped a ticket. We move the car a block or two down to the wharfs. They were okay, lots of people, lots of tourist traps, not a whole lot to do without spending money. We get back to the car after an hour of meandering and looking through a spy shop, then drive on to LA.
Traffic blew. We left SF at 2 or so, and it took 3+ hours to get through Oakland to Hwy 15. Then several more hours into LA. We saw one of the best sunsets of the trip on the into LA. Then LA traffic was awesome, 55mph speed limits, traffic going 80+mph, no one caring about the speed limit. It was sweet. Show up at Josh's at around 11 or so, we eat the best burgers I have ever had, and pass out on his floor cause he has no furniture as of yet.
Day Twelve: Scrimshaw!
Rise and shine at the hotel, pack the car, get it dropped off at the garage by noon...and we decide to take a stroll around Ft. Bragg. When out of left field comes a brewery. And not just any brewery, but the West Coast Brewing Co. You know, Scrimshaw and Red Seal and such? Well, if you don't know, now you know. We talked to the nice, weird old man from Georgia. He told us all the secrets of the company, his favorite brews, the diamonds in the rough to look out for, and of course, where to find the 11-beer on-tap sampler, which was...right across the street.
So, it was past noon (I have scruples, whatever that means), and we drink two sample packs between the three of us. After the drinks, we walked a little further, then back to the car and a long, foggy drive into San Fran. Near the Golden Gate Bridge, Tom spots the one place he had been pining for on the opposite side of the highway: In N' Out Burger. We cross 5 lanes of traffic right onto the exit ramp at 80+mph, squealing tires the whole way. The exit was confusing, and it took us 5 or so minutes to find our way to the other side of the highway. But oh was it worth it. After eating food that Adam and Eve must have surely eaten in Eden, we hit the road.
Through San Fran, down to South San Fran, to the hotel. Once at the hotel, a quick few drinks and then bedtime...not a real busy day.
So, it was past noon (I have scruples, whatever that means), and we drink two sample packs between the three of us. After the drinks, we walked a little further, then back to the car and a long, foggy drive into San Fran. Near the Golden Gate Bridge, Tom spots the one place he had been pining for on the opposite side of the highway: In N' Out Burger. We cross 5 lanes of traffic right onto the exit ramp at 80+mph, squealing tires the whole way. The exit was confusing, and it took us 5 or so minutes to find our way to the other side of the highway. But oh was it worth it. After eating food that Adam and Eve must have surely eaten in Eden, we hit the road.
Through San Fran, down to South San Fran, to the hotel. Once at the hotel, a quick few drinks and then bedtime...not a real busy day.
Day Eleven: California! (is good to the homeless)
We wake to rain. It never ends. Our car leaves the campground on Oregon's coast at 6am (really this time) without paying our mandatory $15--cheapest place to put a tent on the ground on all of Oregon's coastline, screw that--and it drives until it needs its last tank, which, unfortunately, has to be filled in Oregon.
You can't fill you own tank in Oregon. You can't even swipe your card. Some schmuck comes to your window and does something that most people don't mind, and others even enjoy (at times): he pumps your gas. What a lame law. More importantly, gas is more expensive so it can pay for their pumpers' salaries, and you are expected to give a tip. Well, the only gratuity our pumpers got was the ability to be in our presence, because we don't have the dough to pass out to every bum that can hold a handle down.
Still raining. Then we hit the California border, and it was like coming to the promised land: sunshine. Kid you not, the sun was shining within 20 miles of the Cali border. Oregon? HA! what a lame state...then came the Redwoods. Giant pillars of living tissue that tower over our insignificant, short-lived existences. They are old, they are big, they have seen more than we can ever hope to see, and all in a quiet reserve that can only be found in...well, trees. They were cool, we drove through one, it was also cool.
Then the brakes in the car gave way. Completely. It was overloaded by 1000+ pounds, was being driven fast, and was going through the mountains. The pads melted completely off. All we could hear was caliper-on-rotor grinding, and it was not the pleasant kind of grinding. So the trip temporarily stopped in Ft. Bragg, CA., to get the rotor replaced. All was not lost, nay, all was gained! The beach was at our disposal, wi-fi Internet and beds were found at my dad's credit card's disposal, and showers were had by all. We got food and beer, drank and ate, hit the beach, hit eachother, then hit the sack...all-in-all a good day.
You can't fill you own tank in Oregon. You can't even swipe your card. Some schmuck comes to your window and does something that most people don't mind, and others even enjoy (at times): he pumps your gas. What a lame law. More importantly, gas is more expensive so it can pay for their pumpers' salaries, and you are expected to give a tip. Well, the only gratuity our pumpers got was the ability to be in our presence, because we don't have the dough to pass out to every bum that can hold a handle down.
Still raining. Then we hit the California border, and it was like coming to the promised land: sunshine. Kid you not, the sun was shining within 20 miles of the Cali border. Oregon? HA! what a lame state...then came the Redwoods. Giant pillars of living tissue that tower over our insignificant, short-lived existences. They are old, they are big, they have seen more than we can ever hope to see, and all in a quiet reserve that can only be found in...well, trees. They were cool, we drove through one, it was also cool.
Then the brakes in the car gave way. Completely. It was overloaded by 1000+ pounds, was being driven fast, and was going through the mountains. The pads melted completely off. All we could hear was caliper-on-rotor grinding, and it was not the pleasant kind of grinding. So the trip temporarily stopped in Ft. Bragg, CA., to get the rotor replaced. All was not lost, nay, all was gained! The beach was at our disposal, wi-fi Internet and beds were found at my dad's credit card's disposal, and showers were had by all. We got food and beer, drank and ate, hit the beach, hit eachother, then hit the sack...all-in-all a good day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)