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.