Homeward Bound

We spent most of Thursday driving from Socorro to the Grand Canyon with a brief stop in Flagstaff, AZ. We had plans to camp in the park and finally found a suitable campsite, albeit with snow on the ground. After setting up Chris’ tent, we hunkered down for a bitterly cold night that brought a few inches of snow and temperatures in the single digits; whoever thought camping at 7,000 feet in December would be that frigid? The sun finally freed us from our icy prison and we set out for first views of the Grand Canyon. While some national monuments and attractions are over-hyped, the Grand Canyon doesn’t disappoint - it’s one of the most spectacular things I’ve ever seen. The beauty and enormity of the place are really impressive and not done justice by pictures. This, however, didn’t stop me from snapping a few shots:

Panorama From the South Rim (Click for Full Size)


Me and the Grand



Observation Station


Chris Against the Void


Our Freezing Camping Spot



After our morning tour we drove toward Salt Lake City, our destination for the evening. It’s surprising how quickly the landscape can change in the American Southwest. One minute you’ll be dwarfed by massive red cliffs and the next you’ll be half-way up a mountainous slope with snow and evergreens. The last few minutes of fading daylight illuminated this skyline which I stopped to capture much to Chris’ annoyance:

Twilight (Click for Full Size)


We arrived in Salt Lake late around 9:30 that evening. While Annie had already left for Montana to spend Christmas with her family, she let us stay at her home and made us two extremely happy travelers when we discovered sandwiches she’d left us. Arriving so late after a long day, we spent the evening relaxing before calling it a early night.

After a quick bite at my favorite Salt Lake City breakfast cafe, Chris and I were on the road. The 200 miles slipped quickly away and before I knew it I was back home, and the trip at an end. It was bittersweet pulling into the driveway where my car and I had begun only a month earlier.

A few stats from the Great U.S. Roadtrip Extravaganza of 2007:

- 7,751 miles, doorstep to doorstep
- 27 days on the road
- 15 cities / campsites
- 34 tanks of gas costing $903.34
- Lodging:
Couchsurfing 7 nights
Hostels / Camping 6 nights
Friends / Family 13 nights


This trip has been an incredible journey and I feel amazingly lucky to have experienced our country in such a manner. Driving across the country gives you a perspective of America that, I believe, is unattainable jetting from city-to-city via air. Additionally, Couchsurfing and staying in hostels allows you to form friendships and gain insights you’d never get staying in hotels (as well as saving you a bundle!).

I get to spend the next week with family and friends over Christmas before hitting the road once again, this time for Mexico. I’d like to thank everyone who spent time reading and commenting on the blog, as well as for people’s thoughts and prayers as I traveled. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and please check-in after the holiday for continued postings as I head South.........

Texas Livin'

We spent some time visiting St. Bernard’s parish, an area particularly hard-hit by Katrina, the morning before leaving New Orleans. While some rebuilding has occurred, signs of the storm remain everywhere. The rebuilding was sporadic and in no way uniform. Reconstructed buildings were often interspersed among damaged houses which had been gutted with massive piles of rubble lay alongside the buildings. Even on the main streets, the damage was blatantly obvious. Numerous commercial establishments have been abandoned.

We stopped at the local community center and I struck up a conversation with Steve, a middle-aged man who had lost his home and, eventually his wife, to the storm. Talking for more than an hour, he conveyed his account of the storm and it’s lingering effects on the community. Steve discussed a number of things including how frighteningly quickly the house had filled with water, being evacuated along with his wheelchair-bound wife, the people who still remain homeless and face eviction from their FEMA issued trailers, and, with overwhelming appreciation, the army of volunteers that have helped rebuild New Orleans. Steve’s wife died shortly after Katrina due to a heart conditioned exacerbated by the storm and he’s creating a charitable organization in her honor to support reconstructive efforts. It was quite an experience talking with him. Seeing the effects of Katrina on both an individual and the community was extremely sobering and one of the most moving events of the trip.

Flooded Homes in New Orleans





After an eight-hour drive across Louisiana and Texas, we arrived in Austin. We stayed at a fantastic hostel along the river that lacked the musty smell and drunk old men that the New Orleans hostel had boasted. Chris spent the day learning how to drive a stick-shift and, after Houston rush hour traffic, was exhausted upon arriving in Austin. Subsequently, I ventured out solo to explore the famous night-life and music Austin is lauded for.

I was directed to The Continental, a small honky-tonk bar in one of Austin’s upscale neighborhoods. After entering the bar, it only took a few minutes for me to draw one conclusion; old men in Austin have it made. An army of good-ol-boys’ no younger than sixty dominated the dance floor pausing only briefly between songs to share a quick laugh and sip their drink before selecting a new partner usually forty years their junior. I can only hope that I’ll have the energy, gusto and fire when I’m that old to head out on a Monday evening to dance until the wee hours of the morning.......

Before long, I had met a group of locals my age - Danny, Danyelle and Cassandra. Danny worked in business management and Danyelle and Cassandra were both ex go-go dancers! They were all awesome, friendly people and we closed down the bar giving the old men some competition on the dance floor.

The next morning, Chris and I arose and spent a leisurely day tooling around Austin and the University of Texas. The gorgeous sixty degree weather awakened yearnings for summer and made the fact that Christmas was less then a week away seem bizarre.

Our River View from the Hostel


Chris Napping Along the River


Chris and I shared a great taco dinner and then met up with the Austin crew from the night before. After touring an enormous Christmas light display, we headed downtown to a local club. We were soon all dancing away (even Chris!) and having a merry ol’ time when Cassandra pushed the girl off the bar.

Cassandra, who I mentioned had some prior dancing experience, at one point climbed up on an unused part of the bar. A few other girls jumped up to join her, and in the scramble to get up, knocked over one of our drinks. Cassandra saw this and insisted that the girl buy us a replacement. As we danced below unaware of any problems, an argument developed which ended as Cassandra shoved the offending drink-spiller into the inky abyss. A full-on brawl nearly ensued between the two girls and Cassandra was promptly escorted out. I know, I know..... Wow.

In her defense, my version is fairly cursory and the bar staff that escorted her out apologized profusely. Apparently, they knew the offending girl and she happened to be one with an obnoxious mouth who had caused trouble in the past. Not to be deterred, we ended up at a local karaoke bar singing quality numbers from the Top Gun soundtrack and The Beatles before retiring for the evening. All in all, an exciting night in Texas’ capital.

We left this morning headed for a glamorous destination - Socorro, New Mexico And as I sit typing in our $35 a night hotel in this town of 8,789, I can honestly say it’s everything I dreamed it would be. The sheets are clean, the local diner was tasty and I have wireless internet - life is good. Tomorrow we head for Flagstaff en route to the Grand Canyon. I’ll be in touch............

Sprawling Texas Skies

After The Storm

I endured torrential rains during the majority of my drive to New Orleans along the Gulf Coast, a far cry from my visions to sail along with the sun beating on my face and the wind whipping through my hair. I was fortunate to have a collection of Kurt Vonnegut short stories, Welcome to the Monkey House, on CD. I’ve never read any of his work and the stories are funny, well written and unorthodox - I highly recommended the collection.

Driving into New Orleans was both interesting and surreal. During the final five miles, I drove on floating interstate to cross Lake Pontchartrain and enter the city. It’s odd to visit a place where a massive tragedy occurred and see it through your own eyes. Chris captured my thoughts well when he said experiencing New Orleans for yourself made the world seem smaller. This isn’t just a place far away that exists only amid the world of network news and newspaper headlines; it’s a tangible place I can actually drive to.

As I headed towards downtown residual storm damage was apparent on a number of residences along the interstate. However, once I entered the downtown business district and French Quarter, signs of Katrina disappeared. We’ve primarily stayed and explored the more traditional city venues which are in good shape. Before we leave tomorrow, I’d love to visit some of the more hard-hit areas of the city, assuming they’re safe, to get a feel for the storm’s impact.

I picked up Chris (my younger brother with a 5” height advantage) at the airport on Saturday night. He’s done with school for the semester and will be joining me for the remainder of the trip. Spending the last four days without power due to ice storms, he was thrilled to leave the frigid confines of Kansas and escape to the South. We stopped at the hostel to check-in before hoping on a streetcar and heading downtown.

Bourbon Street is the craziest place I’ve been on my trip so far, and perhaps, during my life. I originally had a naive impression of the place as an old-fashioned street brimming with classy restaurants, bars and blues musicians; this view was was quickly dispelled. Located in the heart of the French Quarter, Bourbon Street makes Vegas look nearly as benign as a nursing home bingo evening. Free adult clubs line the streets with outdoor advertisements that would send your grandmother into cardiac arrest. While a few venues have blues musicians, the majority host grungy rock bands and R&B dance floors. With no open container laws, people are free to roam the streets gulping massive beverages and hopping from bar to bar.

Chris and I had a great night amid the mayhem. We sat down for a real cajun dinner at a local restaurant off Bourbon Street and enjoyed crocodile sausage and blackened catfish. We talked well after finishing and it was past midnight when we finally started exploring. We visited a number of bars including one which advertised free jazz music but instead hosted the most obnoxious rock band we’d ever seen. The singer seemed to be reading from the following script for musicians lacking any semblance of stage presence or charisma:

Step 1: Yell - “If you’re from New Orleans, make some noise!”
Step 2: Yell - “If you’re from out of town, make some noise!”
Step 3: Yell - “If you don’t give a #$%@#$, make some noise!”
Step 4: Proceed to yell garbled, unintelligible lyrics
Step 5: Return to Step 1 and repeat until both the dance floor and establishment are empty

We soon changed venues and managed to listen to see a few respectable musical acts before retiring to our hostel shortly after two.

This morning we hit up local coffee shop for a quick breakfast before heading out to explore on foot. We spent a busy day touring the Garden District, visiting a local art gallery, taking a ferry across the Mississippi and chatting with a street evangelist downtown.

Lucky Tenants


A Traditional New Orleans Balcony


After Crossing the Mississippi


"No! I ordered PINK underwear and you sent me white!"


Shadows and Light



Tomorrow we head for Austin and it will be the first time I’ll have a companion on the trip. We’ll see how much of a road hermit I’ve become over the last 4,000 miles.....

Along The Coast

This morning, I raised my head from the sleeping cocoon I’d created within my Subaru when I saw them; two girls across the street staring directly at me. They had obviously been discussing my vehicle and their looks of suspicion were transformed into expressions of gaping astonishment when they saw my head bob into view. I nearly laughed at their surprise and did the only thing I could think of to do - I flashed them a thumbs-up, smiled and waved. After a few moments, they waved back at me somewhat incredulously. Sensing an appropriate exit point, I hopped into the driver seat and sped off towards the beach.

I’d made it to Panama City Beach the night before from Nashville and was surprised by the somewhat desolate strip of hotels, condos and restaurants that lined the coastline. Primarily a spring break and summer resort, mid-December left the area feeling lonely and void of activity.

A Particularly Neglected Hotel


I honestly didn’t set out intending to go to HOOTERS. I was looking for a place with a beach-side patio where I could order a drink, look out over the ocean and enjoy the beautiful evening. I drove for miles along the strip trying to find my hoped for oasis amid the condos, tattoo parlors, Waffle Houses and surf shops. When I finally found a place after 10 minutes of cruising, I walked headlong into a company party which had rented out the entire restaurant.

It was after these frustrations that I spotted the HOOTERS next door. I ordered a drink and some fried pickles (please, I implore you - never, ever do this at HOOTERS) and spent time writing a few letters, checking email and choking down the pickles. It was a slow evening and when I asked the waitress about potential nearby campsites she ended up talking for a bit about life and the slow pace brought on by December. As you may be able to guess, she had no good camping information.

As I left the restaurant, I started thinking about my documentary. I’ve been gathering interviews for a video documentary I plan to compile upon my return that compares people’s viewpoints and perspectives from varying regions and walks of life. I complied a standard set of three questions that I've asked everyone who’s been willing to be interviewed. Upon finishing, I plan to splice the answers together in a piece that contrasts people’s viewpoints, problems and ambitions. I’ve had some great interviews but 80% have been from white males. Interviewing the waitress would both provide both gender diversity as well as a bit of, well, flare to the project.

I walked back into the restaurant and, after explaining the project, asked the waitress if she’d be willing to be interviewed. She agreed but became quiet after I revealed the three questions I’d be asking which are fairly introspective. She asked if I’d come back the next morning after she’d had some time to think through them, and I agreed.

The next morning, after the previously detailed rouge blog posting and morning spotting, I hit the beach. It was made up of gorgeous fine white sand and despite an overcast sky, I greatly enjoyed the morning.








After some ocean-side reading and photography, I swung by the restaurant for the interview before leaving town. The place wasn’t yet open and I had to motion for someone inside to come to the door. The woman from inside looked at me suspiciously as she told me that the waitress wasn’t there - I’d been stood-up.

As Panama City faded away in the rear-view mirror, I reflected upon the legacy I’d left upon the place; I’d been caught sleeping in my car by the residents and had most likely been branded as a sleazeball who was concocting some documentary story in order to make home movies of HOOTERS waitresses. Despite the less-than-sterling reputation I may have developed, I had enjoyed the desolate costal strip. With the window down and B.B. King wailing through my speakers, I sped towards New Orleans........

From the Streets - Literally

I may be the first person ever to post a blog entry while camped out in the back of my Subaru in a residential district in Panama City, FL. Even if I'm not, the fact that it's possible is still pretty cool. When I discovered I was picking up a wireless signal, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to post an entry this unique. Well, I'm off to bed. I hope the makeshift curtains I jerry-rigged stay up through the night........

From Democracy Central to Drum Solos

While I had high school memories of D.C. as a major metropolitan city, it appeared small after my four-day stay in New York. My good friend and host Ryan managed to guide me through the maze of oddly angled streets and roundabouts to his apartment on Pennsylvania Ave, 15 blocks Southwest of the capital. We grabbed a quick bite and some brews at a dive bar a few blocks down and were joined by Glenn, a Bozeman resident we both knew from college. Afterwards, Glenn offered to let me take his motorcycle for a spin in the crisp Washington evening, which I eagerly did. The evening concluded as reawakened visions of cross-country motorcycle trips dancing through my head.

It’s difficult to properly see the nation’s capital in a single day so it was fortunate that I’d been once before with my family. After wolfing down my signature breakfast of pastries and coffee, I went to the Corcoran museum which had two fantastic photography exhibits detailing the work of Ansel Adams and Annie Leibovitz. I’ve been spoiled with great photographical inspiration throughout the trip as I also saw a fantastic exhibit onRobert Capa, a famous war photographer, while in Chicago. Photography captures my imagination more than any other art form and the work I’ve seen on the trip has motivated me to improve my behind-the-lens skills.

The best part of my D.C. experience was tooling around the city at night in Ryan’s incredibly fun Miata convertible. The weather was mild so we put down the top, blasted the heater and got a jump-start on taming our mid-life crisis. A convertible, I’ve now decided, is something I need to own at least once in my life. Along the route, we stopped to visit Ryan’s girlfriend, Kate, who lives on a really cute bohemian houseboat. I was both curious and impressed as I could see myself doing something similar if I ever faced the decision to forgo eating in order to pay sky-high metropolitan rent.

Hey McCain! You Need a Ride?


Rain in the Capital


A Couple Taking Pictures


No Title Necessary


The more time I spend in big cities, the more I realize how much I love the American West and, in particular, Montana. The next morning, it took me more than an hour to get out of D.C. traffic and on the road. In Great Falls, it took less than five minutes to bike to work. I spent nearly $25 for a hamburger and beer in New York while the same meal in Great Falls would have cost less than $10. While I have different plans for my return, I hope to return one day to the beautiful land of big skies, few people, cheap eats and massive farm subsidies.

Next stop? Hippieville, USA (aka Asheville, NC). Asheville is a quaint college town of 70,000 situated in the Appalachians that has exploded in recent years. Significant development and in-migration has resulted in a lively downtown and rapidly escalating housing prices. My hosts, Patrick and Chris, had an apartmnet in a beautiful and massive Victorian building. Chris took me out on the town and we had shared a pitcher of locally brewed beer over the sounds of a local bluegrass band. Afterwards, we headed over to Chris’ girlfriend’s house for a great evening of drinks, guitar hero, and an inappropriately named card game. I slept under the stars on their porch and got the best night sleep I've had all trip.

The next morning I took the Blue Ridge Parkway out of Asheville. The Parkway, which runs for nearly 500 miles through North Carolina and Virginia, is a scenic roadway which provides breathtaking views as it winds through the Appalachians. Unfortunately, I was able to enjoy the spectacular views of rolling hills only briefly as clouds descended and I was engulfed in fog for the next 100 miles.

Overlooking the Appalachians


Blue Ridge Parkway


Fleeting Moments Before the Fog



I arrived in Nashville amid a torrential rainstorm to meet my host Jeff, a 35 year-old Healthcare IT specialist who lives about 10 miles outside of downtown. As I was eager to explore the world-famous music scene, we soon headed downtown and I wasn’t disappointed. Despite the fact that is was a Wednesday night, we walked around downtown to the sound of music spilling out of nearly every bar we passed. With few places charging a cover, we were free to sample a wide variety of bands as we hopped from place to place. The bands were exceptionally good and left me feeling like a fake, wanna-be third-rate musician. We finally left after 2 a.m. with plans to return the next evening and myself resolving to become a far better guitar player.

I’ll be leaving Nashville tomorrow and I have no idea where I'm headed for the day. While couchsurfing has been fairly smooth so far, I've encountered a few problems on my recent leg of the journey. Despite a number of requests to stay with people in Memphis, New Orelans and Austin, I haven’t heard back from anyone. While I was planning on spending tomorrow night in Memphis, my host strongly recommend skipping it citing sketchy, run-down neighborhoods and general dumpiness. I’m considering traveling the backroads of Alabama and Mississippi, eating in local diners and spending the night in some small, out-of-the-way town. I’ve never been in the South and I’d love to get a feel for the people and culture, something I’d be sure to miss speeding along the interstate. It will be good to escape the cookie-cutter interstate exits and, hopefully, experience some quality Southern home cooking. I'm looking forward to where the road takes me tomorrow......

The Big Apple

Remember that really nice kid in your 8th grade class who was always mocked due to something embarrassing thing that happened eons ago in elementary school (i.e. peed himself in class)? You may not be able to remember his name, but I can - it was Pittsburgh. Traditionally thought of as only a step above New Jersey in overall appeal, Pittsburgh suffers from antiquated notions of being a dirty, dingy city left reeling from the fallout of a collapsed steel industry. My couchsurfing host, Aaron, dispelled these notions quickly. He lives in a chic and comfortable three-level apartment style house complete with spiral staircase, downtown views and nearby quaint restaurants. The kicker? He bought the house for 30% of what it would have cost in any major and fashionable metropolitan area. Visions of investment firm “Youderian Vintage Apartments : Pittsburgh” began dancing through my head. Aside from the deals to be had, Pittsburgh is actually a gorgeous city. The skyline, as can be seen below, is one of the more beautiful I’ve seen.



After an early-morning laundry session in which I chatted with and interviewed (for the upcoming documentary) two fiery old men, I hit the road for New York. After many miles and accursed toll booths, I found myself in Brooklyn, NY. The plan called for me to leave my car in Brooklyn and head into the city. This plan, hatched through advice from a friend of a friend, seemed like a great idea at the time. When I actually got to Brooklyn at dusk and faced the idea of abandoning my beloved car to streets to fend for itself in a less-than-stellar neighborhood for three nights, I paused. The renters and car insurance I purchased prior to the trip eventually provided me with enough comfort to wish my car the best, say a prayer, and board the subway for Manhattan.

While it wasn’t quite as overwhelming and enormous as I’d imagined, the sheer immensity and activity of New York is still a sight to behold. I stayed with my buddy and co-DJ from college, Brian, in the North end of Harlem on 155th Street. During my two days, I managed to see the mandatory myriad sites: Time Square, The Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, Central Park, Fifth Avenue, Ground Zero, Harlem and, as all true geeks will fully understand, Apple’s flagship store. I was also able to get some great material for the perspectives documentary and interviewed a subway preacher, a homeless sax player, both an Indian and Pakistani girl and my humble host.

Central Park at Night


The Tech Mecca


Born to Invest?


Skyline from Central Park


The most enjoyable aspects of New York, however, were my experiences off the trampled tourist path. I attended my first Hanukkah party where guest were split into Jews and Gentiles and faced off to play a traditional dradle game modified to include both gambling and drinking. We were given a handful of gold chocolate coins which I assumed were gifts. Never one to let food sit untouched, I quickly began consuming the gold nuggets until I realized that they were to be used for the upcoming Jew vs. Gentile gambling and drinking showdown. It was with a no lack of of embarrassment and shame that I admitted to my host I had wolfed down my gold coins and needed new ones in order to play.

On two separate evenings I headed out to listen to live jazz and blues music in some small New York clubs. The first, Fat Cat, was a lively club with a fantastic jazz band and a wide variety of games for patrons to enjoy. A number of chess boards were set up and an old and weather man invited me to play with a wave of his hand. Two opponents and four games later, I was out $16. I have never been good at chess and this systematic flogging was not unexpected. My brother Chris and college roommate Ryan consistently humbled me whenever I challenge either of them in the past.

The other club, Bar 55, was a small blues club featuring Sweet Georgia Brown. An enormous and saucy black woman with an equally large voice, she was the self-proclaimed “Last of the Red Hot Mamas”. Whether or not she was the final surviving member of a dying breed, she made sure no one questioned her red hot status; sitting on the laps of patrols, openly discussing her enormous bosom and belting out lyrics like “Don’t touch my thigh because then you’ll want to touch my cherry pie” gave her complete and utter red hot credibility. Interested in booking her for your next wine tasting or church function? Feel free to visit her website.

I was waiting to catch the subway home after my last night out when I experienced something really cool. On the subway platform was a street musician strumming a guitar. While street musicians are everywhere in New York, this one in particular had a particularly powerful voice, a knack for capturing rhythm with his guitar and was singing well-known songs. A group of young kids started singing along with the infectious music and the idea slowly spread. People started to gather around and a homeless trumpet player joined the crowd. Before long, a massive crowd of people ranging from well dressed uptown yuppies to homeless men in camouflage fatigue were singing and clapping in unison, filling the late-night subway tunnels with noise. A stern-faced professional dropped his serious facade and began openly clapping and singing. Next to him, a homeless man momentarily forgot about his troubles and became lost in the emotion and enjoyment of the surrounding music. It was a sad moment when the train arrived some twenty minutes later and the crowd reluctantly dispersed. As soon as the train doors shut and the music was no longer audible, invisible boundaries once again appeared as people re-entered their individual worlds. But for those twenty minutes on the platform, joined together by the music and the late hour, we’d all let down our guard and a group of diverse strangers had shared in the spirit of camaraderie. It was, far and away, my favorite experience in New York.

Returning to Brooklyn the next day, I was overjoyed (praise God) to find my car untouched and containing all my traveling cargo. New York was behind me and D.C. lay ahead, my next stop on the trail.

Chicago Photos

It's been a crazy few days on the road and subsequently I've fallen behind updating the blog. While it was too late for my mind to compose a quality piece on my recent adventures in Pittsburgh and NYC, I did have enough juice left to post a few pictures from Chicago. I'll do my best to post another update tomorrow......

A Rooftop View



Streets in the Sun



The Mighty Sears Tower



Spare Change?



Another Rooftop View



Aimlessness

Couchsurfing Chicago

During the last three days I have become a complete and utter couchsurfing convert. Couchsurfing may be the most incredible tool made available for travelers since Lonely Planet started writing guidebooks back in 1972. Let me explain.....

My host Gabriel lives in Logan Square, a few miles outside downtown Chicago. He works as an independent film maker and spent five months in Europe shooting a documentary on the Couchsurfing project. His positive experience lead to his hosting travelers when he returned to the states.

Gabriel took me to a great Mexican restaurant a few blocks from his house. The neighborhood has a strong Latino presence and the food was excellent. After dinner, we returned to the apartment and I situated myself into my new home. I would be sleeping on a futon in a corner of the apartment and Gabe provided a personal set of keys, which surprised me as I was given the freedom to come and go as I wished. It had been a long day of traveling and after a few emails and some reading, I called it a night.

The next morning I took the “L”, Chicago’s elevated train and subway, downtown. I spent a few hours exploring and taking pictures before visiting the Chicago Art Institute, home to a number of amazing pieces as well as a handful of bizarre modern works.

All the introspection and interpretation (does the subject’s red skin signify social strife in the painters society, or did he just have a sunburnt model?) left me famished and I treated myself to Chicago’s famous deep-dish pizza. I ordered the smallest pizza I could and was left utterly emasculated when I was unable to finish more than half. Now, dear reader, this isn’t your ordinary Dominos delivery - this pizza is deep (2+ inches) and contains enough fat in a single piece to power a small city for a week. In that regard, it is extremely similar to Ryan Wilson’s mother. But I digress......

After admitting defeat, I waddled slowly across town to an evening class at thinkorswim, a local brokerage that specializes in options trading. While I won’t bore non-financial geeks with the minutia, I will say that the class was extremely interesting, informative and left me with visions of grandeur concerning my future trading success.

Through the Couchsurfing network, I’d been in touch with a Chicago resident named Jared who lived downtown and was a fellow investment banker. I gave him a call and he invited me over to his apartment for drinks with himself and some friends. Jared and his friends were welcoming, extremely friendly and great company. He occupied a beautiful apartment on the 19th floor of a downtown building with stunning views. A rooftop tour revealed an even more beautiful view of Chicago. Over drinks and cigars, we talked (as business geeks are prone to do) about the economy, the future of the nation and several other matters in which we have nearly no control whatsoever. As it grew late and I faced a 45 minute walk/train ride to return to Gabriel’s place, I took Jared up on a hospitable offer and crashed on his couch.

The next day I returned to Gabriel’s place destined for the Museum of Science and Industry. I’d been to this colossal playground nearly a decade before and remembered it for it’s intriguing and interactive exhibits. The museum didn’t disappoint as both Gabriel and I spent a great afternoon viewing captured German U-boats, watching Omni Max movies and touring a simulated coal mine.

After a brief rest and burrito break, I went out for one final night in Chicago. I was headed downtown to an open floor swing-dancing evening at a local studio. As a veteran Montanan swing dancer, I was looking forward to showing off my polished moves to the slick city crowd. I arrived at the studio to find a small crowd of less than 15 due to nearly 5 inches of snow that had fallen. My visions of dancing supremacy quickly evaporated as I discovered that nearly all the dancers were far better than me. Most were well trained in traditional swing, not the country bar two step I’d learned/developed in Montana. Regardless, I had a great time dancing and talking with a number of people I met. One of the dancing attendees, a girl named Yana, happened to be a kindred Investment Banker. We struck up a great conversation and ended up talking finance for a bit over drinks before I headed back to Gabriel’s place.

The next morning was bittersweet as I departed Chicago and drove towards Pittsburgh. I’d pulled into town days earlier not knowing a soul. Since then, I’d made multiple friends, shared numerous stimulating discussions and managed to score free lodging and local information along the way! My Chicago experience was all it took to get me completely hooked on couchsurfing.

I’ll post picture of my Chicago escapades in the future as I’ve left most of my camera equipment in my car during my trek into the depths of New York. I’ll be posting both pictures and future details soon.....

College: Take Two

I’m still young enough to feign college student status and that’s exactly what I did during my three day “enrollment” at Kansas State in Manhattan. It’s amazingly easy to slip back into the campus lifestyle, especially when classes and troublesome studying are eliminated. At first, I felt a little guilty staying up through the wee morning hours and lounging in sweats until noon. However, I quickly adjusted and was soon tossing frisbees on campus and drinking beer at the SUB alongside the most seasoned KSU veterans.

While required to spend a significant amount of time fulfilling mandatory campus sleeping quotas, we did manage to fit in a number of other activities. Chris took me to the KSU vs. Oregon game, my first major NCAA basketball event. Rowdy students, creative cheers and an overtime finish made for a great game.



We played ping-pong, frisbee, pool, and foosball. We visited “Aggieville”, the university night-scene, and had some choice beverages with a few of Chris’ friends. We visited the grand opening of a local Taco Bell and won nine free tacos (akin to striking gold for the impoverished college student / unemployed traveler). I interviewed Chris and a few of his friends for a trip related documentary I’m doing on people’s perspectives across America. I especially enjoyed talking with one of Chris’ Chinese friends who was extremely blunt and therefore hysterical. She’d say things like:

“I will be having a party Friday and invite lots of people to play [the game] Mafia. I will then find out who is smart and make friends with them.”

-or-

In reference to an unnamed tall and slender friend of mine in Manhattan: “You are so skinny and have no muscles!”

Needless to say, she inadvertently provided a great deal of comic relief.

It was with sadness that I left behind my brother as well the college lifestyle. Saturday morning I headed East once again toward Kansas City. After a brief two hour drive I had arrived at my Uncle David and Aunt Barb’s house. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen either of them and it was great to chat and catch-up. David took me out to see an impressive Christmas light display and we returned to a fantastic steak dinner prepared by Barb. After dinner, Uncle David and I experienced some quality male bonding time while watching the highly touted Missouri vs. Oklahoma football game - sorry Missouri fans.

I left Kansas City around 8:30 this morning headed for Chicago. Despite the incessant rain, the eight hour drive went quickly. I passed through Hannible, MO, boyhood home of Mark Twain and the backdrop for many of his stories. Shortly after, I drove over the massive expanse that is the Mississippi River. Arriving in Chicago after dusk, the downtown lights appeared muted through the drizzle. I managed to find my way to a section of town called Logan Square and located the apartment building where I’d finally be couchsurfing.

The Couchsurfing community www.couchsurfing.com is composed of people throughout the world that open up their homes to travelers. As a member, you are able to offer fellow travelers a place to stay as well as search the network for members that are willing to host you (i.e. let you “couchsurf” with them). I can imagine what many of you are likely thinking:

“What? Are you really suggesting you’d stay with some stranger? I mean, some random person you’ve never met in a city you may not know? Are you nuts?!?!?!! You’ll end up locked in a basement by some guy who collects dead squirrels, subsiding on nothing but garbage scraps and the water that pools on the floor! You’ll be robbed, clubbed, and tossed into the backyard only to be found months later by the landlord! ARE YOU CRAZY?”

Take heart, dear reader, as I can assure you I like the idea of being a basement prisoner no more than you. Many a potential couchsurfing candidate has asked the same questions. Fortunately, the community has a reference and verification system to add transparency and security to the couchsurfing process. If you're curious about the community and what safety precautions are built-in, you can check out the site’s FAQ and, in particular, the section on “Is Couchsurfing Safe?”. Additionally, if you have no pressing issues in your life whatsoever, you can view my couchsurfing profile.

As I got out of my car in the foreign Chicago neighborhood, I was mildly apprehensive. I didn’t know the area and this was my first time couchsurfing. My soon-to-be host Gabriel seemed like a great guy from his profile and references, but that’s always what the neighbors say about the guy next door who ends up being a druglord. I rang the bell preparing myself for anything when......

Well, shoot. Gabriel just returned from a film meeting and we’re headed out for some dinner. I’ll have to pick up the story in my next post.

On the Road......

Despite grand intentions to keep my readership base (consisting entirely, I fear, of my mother) abreast of my travels from the beginning, I’ve failed. It’s not until today (day 5) that I’ve managed to find time to post. I’ll try to do my best to briefly recount the adventure so far. Before I delve into the details, here’s my rough itinerary for the next few weeks:

November
26 Salt Lake City, UT
27 Colorado Springs, CO
28-30 Manhattan, KS

December
1 Kansas City, MO
2-4 Chicago, IL
5 Pittsburgh, PA
6-8 New York, NY
9-10 Washington D.C.
11 Ashville, NC
12-13 Nashville, TN
14 Memphis, TN
15-16 New Orleans, LA
17 Austin, TX
18-? TBD

The adventure officially began in Idaho Falls on Monday when I piloted my faithful Subaru Outback onto I-15 . As I hit the on-ramp, I glanced down to see the odometer roll-over to exactly 123,000. By the end of January it will read well over 132,000. Fully serviced over the last few days in preparation of the voyage, the Subaru purred as I sped South. I’m looking forward to the Outback serving as an excellent traveling companion. This utilitarian machine has it all: it’s roomy enough to call a bed in a pinch, has all-wheel drive and gets milage that even the Sierra Club’s most zealous member would approve of. My first stop was Salt Lake City.

A quick three hour drive brought to me to the home of Mormons, the Wasatch Mountains and most importantly, my beautiful girlfriend Annie. Annie treated me to an early birthday dinner at Trios, a delicious restaurant near downtown. After visiting my college roommate, Ryan, and his wife, we retired for an early evening and I started to arrange accommodations for Chicago and beyond via Couchsurfing (www.couchsurfing.com), a community which I’ll describe fully in another post.

After saying farewell to Annie and getting a tire rotation, I was once again driving South. Headed for Colorado Springs, I would be traveling through Grand Junction and Denver along the way. I’ve always loved southern Utah and stopped to snap a few pictures of the Martian landscape.




I finally arrived in Colorado Springs around 7pm. My first ten hours of driving during my first long leg of the trip brought a few interstate epiphanies:

a) By the time I am done with my travels I will have permanently lost all feeling to my rear-end. For anyone still shopping for me for Christmas I have a solitary request - a donut pillow.

b) You see a lot of country driving ten hours a day and feel guilty about not stopping more to explore. As my ambitious itinerary calls for many such days in the future, I’ll have to absorb the landscape the best as possible from behind the windshield.

In Colorado Springs I stayed with friends from Great Falls, Ryan and Nicole, who work as local news reporters. Oddly enough, my college roommate and wife who I’d seen the prior night in Salt Lake are also Ryan and Nicole. We went out for some excellent burgers before Ryan took me for a evening tour of The Garden of the Gods. The Garden consists of numerous behemoth rock formations jutting dramatically from the earth, but was hard to fully appreciate from their silhouettes against the evening sky. Returning home, we partook in the sacred American male tradition of enjoying a few beers while watching SportsCenter before retiring for the evening.

After bidding farewell to my friends the next morning, I departed amid snow flurries and gray skies head for Manhattan, KS, home of Kansas State University and future Economics Nobel Piece Prize winner, Chris Youderian. My previously expressed guilt at driving too quickly through beautiful country evaporated in Kansas. Western Kansas is, in a word, plain. One of the only visible landmarks were the McDonalds arches that were often the first distinguishable sign of a town. Had I never heard of McDonalds, I would have assumed the ubiquitous arches signaled some sort of community religious center or meeting place; these are the types of thoughts that cross your mind after 300 miles of Western Kansas interstate. I must have had a some residual guilt for blasting through Kansas as I did stop after sunset to capture this shot of the waning prairie light.



In hopes of keeping a somewhat attentive audience (i.e. mother), I’ll wrap up this lengthy entry and save the KSU exploits and adventures for my next post. Saturday? Kansas City. Sunday? Chicago and my first real Couchsurfing experience with an independent film maker named Gabriel. Stay tuned........