It's the American Way

To all our peoples, greetings. We have just recently arrived here in the Great Northwest (so says Ben- Hannah will simply say Washington State, as "Washington" still means D.C. to her), in time to experience the Pineapple Express, a jet of hot air and water that arrives from Hawaii bringing with it torrential rains. Ben keeps telling Hannah this is abnormal, and it really does occur perhaps once per decade. Ben's grandmother's bedroom was flooded as a result.

Be ye warned: we have a lot of free time on our hands, and the length and depth of this article might turn out to reflect that. If you want the short-and-sweet, just look at the pictures, National Geographic style. However, we recommend a full reading if you really want to capture the true flavor of our journey across the United States: the polychromatic brilliance of the sun's rays setting upon the cliffs of Capitol Reef, the endless dotted plains and infinite horizon of the agricultural heart of Illinois, the spectacular winding chasms of the Virgin River narrows, and the faintly fetid odors circling near the largely defunct stockyards of Omaha.


Jersey City to the Windy City

Map expert Carmalt, charged with all logistical planning, had set forth a significant but realistic goal for the first day on the road: Columbus, Ohio by nightfall. She also suggested a more extensive challenge: completing the entire trip without patronizing a national chain restaurant. To assist us, she bought "Roadfood", a popular guidebook with hundreds of regional dining suggestions that met the non-chain criteria. We soon discovered that Roadfood, though sporadically on the mark, was often outdated, and curiously, fixated on hot dogs. For example, though New Jersey offers a broad array of restaurants to match the diversity of its population, Roadfood suggested 4 different tube steak purveyors, including multiple "Texas weiner" spots in Passaic county. This held true for every state we visited.

Before we figured out the weiner bias, Ben was drawn into the idea of eating in Pittsburgh, PA. We parked on Penn Ave., a/k/a, the strip, which comprises the Pitt version of post-industrial urban renewal. Ben felt they did a pretty good job of working in the requisite cosmo vibe while
preserving the blue-collar ambiance of the city (The book told us that the air here was once so dirty, a white collar gent would have to bring a second shirt and change halfway through the workday). Actually, it was still quite industrial. We visited Primanti Bros., which served a variety of meal-in-a-sandwiches: choice of meat, fistful of melted cheese, fistful of fries, vinegar coleslaw, all in one. It was filling but left a lot to be desired. Hannah, still full from lunch, had "Pittsburgh-style" chili.

We made it to Columbus around ten, where Hannah's uncle Bill and aunt Nan were our first host family. Bill works as a wine specialist, and though he was already in his robe when we showed up, he was kind enough to stay up and share some of his picks with Ben. The next morning, we had a tributary breakfast at Jean Carmalt's former employer, Waffle House. The food sucked, but we saw our first real cowboy there, as well as a couple that had just come from a medieval fair.

The next day was mostly spent driving through western Ohio and Indiana. Ben had never been to the Midwest before (unless you count a wedding in Dallas). He was shocked by the boundless fields and farmhouses, and even got mildly agoraphobic-I mean, there's just so much corn!

We arrived in Chicago very hungry, and went to the house where we were to stay with a family friend in the Beverly neighborhood. We came inside to a large, multi-story home creatively decorated with several half-naked manikins, fully set oddly placed tables, ominous dolls, and countless other mildly disturbing artifacts. However, it turned out the resident artist Carolyn was a gracious host that even bought us breakfast and asked us to call her Mom.

The following day, Hannah, through an earlier express agreement, fully indulged Ben's food geek zeal. Culling extensive on-the-job "legal research", he arranged for a full day of eating our way through Chicago. We started in the impressive Mexican enclave of Little Village, and located Taquerias Atotonilco, featuring al pastor on the rotating vertical spit-a sight for sore eyes, indeed. The tacos were made with this and a orange-ish salsa, very nice. Next up, we hit Al's #1 Italian Beef, where the local specialty is a beef sandwich wholly dipped in meat gravy and topped with sweet peppers-Hannah found this surprisingly delicious. The third stop was Jim's Original, where you cop a Polish w/everything (mustard, onions, hot peppers), including a side of fries for $2.50. Hannah voted this best sausage ever, and oddly enough, this place wasn't in Roadfood.

We walked off the food coma in Millennium Park. Have you seen that bean? Whoa.

That night we pricelined a hotel in the Loop, and had dinner in the Wrigleyville area at Sticky Rice, a place specializing in Northern Thai cuisine, and offering ant eggs, fried worms, and baby quails. We ordered from the "secret menu", and had a curry with pickled vegetables, ginger and bamboo shoots, and also a wonderfully hot and oily pork and intestine dish with fried shallot, cilantro and mint. The best was the homemade sausage appetizer with chunks of galangal and lemongrass that provided an otherworldly flavor. We highly recommend this place to any Thai food fan that visits the area. After dinner we went to the Vic theater for a performance by DJ Shadow, whom we had last seen while we were in New Orleans about four years ago, and a mutual favorite. Those who have seen Shadow's live sets know that they feature crazy videos that are synched with his beats and evocative of the music's themes.

Stuck in the Middle

The next day we abandoned modern urban civilization, and drove through perhaps the two worst states in America, Iowa and Nebraska. It was very flat.

Still, we tried to make the best of it.

It was in this vicinity that an amazingly jingoistic ballad was broadcast on the radio, probably on the only station that a full scan of the dial could pick up. The singer mentioned how he felt the events of 9/11 were analogous to a "suhcker punch that come flyin' in from somewhurr in thuh back". Recalling that his father had lost an eye in battle, but nonetheless made a habit of flying the red, white and blue, the man threatened the terrorists. "We'll light up your whurld like the forth of Jew-lye...We'll put a boot in yer ass, it's the American way", he promised. Ben was deeply impressed by this song; he couldn't get certain lyrics out of his head. Only days later did we learn that Toby Keith had sung it, and had gotten into a spat with the Dixie Chicks over it. You can hear the song, right now, if you like, here.

We did have a memorable meal in Omaha at Johnny's Cafe. This place is something of a local institution, and was featured in the opening sequences of About Schmidt. The front doors are made of heavy steel with three-dimensional bull motifs, and there is dark wood throughout. The dining room is also very dark, lit only by small, with the exception of a 25 foot high floor-to-ceiling backlit photo-mural depicting a pastoral scene of cows grazing under some trees. Hannah ordered the filet mignon, which was superb, and Ben had Johnny's strip steak, which the menu and the waitress both told us was "better than a New York strip". Each of these cost about half of what we had paid in New York, so we couldn't really disagree.

Boulderdash

Emerging from the land of the Cornhuskers, we crossed into Colorado, which is actually not so different in its far eastern portions than the Big Red. We arrived to the Rockies at nightfall, just in time to experience the Rocky Mountain High with Hannah's friends Meredith and Lee, who were kind enough to be our third host family. The next morning we enjoyed our first hike of the trip, leaving from a trailhead near a meteorological observatory, and so the beginning included information about Boulder's weather patterns. Boulder's city park system probably exceeds many national parks, and the terrain was a welcome relief from the great plains. The payoff of the hike was to explore Mallory Cave at the apex, but once we arrived biologist Carmalt observed that spelunking could disturb the mating rituals of the endangered Townsend's Big Eared Bat, so we were not permitted to enter, despite uncertainty about the end date of the breeding season. The view at the top afforded us our last chance to look far toward the east and wave goodbye.

When we returned from the Cave, we caught a glimpse of Boulder's downtown areas. Hannah remembered visiting here when her sis was in college, and thinking that Boulder was "the ultimate". Ben saw a lot of people with high-end Arc'teryx and Mountain Hard Wear fleece and wraparound shades, which reminded him of home, except the air was thin and sunny. We must admit we enjoyed our dose of the fruits of Yippie labor, and we had a "mayan" lunch that consisted of pupusas and tamales and other things that forced Hannah into a four-hour food coma while Ben watched the telly. Our friends brought us to dinner at the Dushanbe Tea House, which was a remarkably constructed place, with elaborate carvings from Tajikistan. High five!

We drove west along I-70, which provided a swell view for an interstate, especially the Glenwood Canyon. We stopped off in Vail for lunch at the Lyon Rouge, a place formerly haunted by our friend Laynie. Although we heard that A-Basin had opened that day, Vail's lifts weren't runnin'. Riding off into the sunset, we left the Rockies and headed for the desert region of Moab.

Arches

At a condo in Moab we met the Matson fam: Kai, Summer, and Rory. It had been years since all of us had hung out, so young Kai had grown a lot, and gained many words. Over the weekend, Ben became known as "Funny Guy". Rory and Summer had margaritas waiting when we showed up and cooked us a fine Mexican dinner of tamales and several salsas. Ben and Rory stayed up until four catching up and looking for the troll that had been menacing Kai as of late. This continued over the next two days in Arches National Park, famous for, you guessed it, arches. But we were also impressed by the whalefin sliprock formations and angular stone towers, quite Egyptian in some ways.


Highway 12

A guide book told us that Utah's Highway 12 was one of the most scenic roads in the land, and it did not lie. We left the Matsons to head further west making our first camp in Capitol Reef National Park. We arrived just in time for sunset, and were stunned by what the Navajo called "land of the sleeping rainbow". Roy G. Biv, if I'm not mistaken:

We got a taste of precisely how cold an October night in the Utah desert can be, catching a chill while we practiced amateur astronomy laying in the road adjacent to the campground, ferreting out Ursa Minor, Draco and Cassiopeia.

The next day, mainly spent on scenic Highway 12, which also passes through Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument, we encountered a temporary delay:


We stopped for burgers in Hannah's favorite town of Boulder, Utah, were life is slow, crunchy and full of outdoor adventure. We drove on to spend the afternoon in Bryce Canyon. The park ranger we consulted upon arrival, a straight-shooting gent with an extra row of teeth in his lower jaw, a la tiburon, suggested that we not waste our time camping in the disappointing backcountry forest, which doesn't involve the canyon, especially since snow was in the cards that night. As for that canyon, we'll let the pictures speak for themselves:













Sharkey's forecast was correct, and we returned the next morning to catch a glimpse of the amphitheater under a blanket of snow.

We continued on Highway 12 and drove through Red Canyon National Forest, also covered in a light layer of snow, a lovely contrast to the deep red rock of the canyon. It was here where the team decided to take advantage of the fact that half of their personal items were in the car and go snowboarding in the canyon. Of course, there were no lifts, and the snow cover was a bit thin, resulting in some red stains and concerns of rock damage to the board and damage to the desert vegetation. We tried our best to stay on the trail:

Iron, Lion, Zion

What is Zion, besides a frequent subject matter for reggae music? Well, this team was about to investigate. Arriving from the eastern entrance, and continuing on the Mt. Carmel-Zion Highway, we discovered that Zion is, at least, an inspiration for Dr. Seuss.

Unfortunately, this region of the park has only one hiking trail, and that was closed for construction at the time of the visit. Considering the views from the road, the team would urge Mighty Warlord Bush to build some new trails there.

The trails we did hike, however, were nothing short of amazing. We went several miles into the backcountry of the Kolob Canyons area, which is perhaps the least visited, most remote area of the park. That night, it snowed somewhat, and hurricane force winds bored into the canyon. We slept making maximum use of the layers principle, including gloves and hats. The next day, we went a bit further in to view Kolob Arch, the highest arch...ever. The team, suffering from its cold night and sedentary urban lifestyle, was thoroughly taxed by the 7 mile hike out, and internal communication ceased until a refueling at the Bit and Spur in Springdale, near the main entrance to Zion. The butternut squash taquitos were very nice, and Ben really liked the chile verde.

The next day, we boarded the shuttle bus along with several of our fellow American park visitors, whom we realized, were mostly of retirement age. In fact, the only people under sixty-five we saw were Western Europeans and home-schooled Mormons. This struck us as a sad commentary on our economy's dismissive attitude towards vacation time: only slackers and quitters take it.

Leaving the retirement community on the shuttle, we decided to do the Angel's Landing trail, "one of the most famous and thrilling hikes in the national park system" according to the Zion National Park website. There is a portion where the climb involves traversing a spine with an 800 foot drop on one side and 1300 on the other, but there are chains to grab on to (one side). Hannah's summary of the hike was that it was absolutely crazy- but worth the challenge, more mental than physical. The second picture shows the path you must take to make the final ascent; if you look closely you will see a few hikers in the lower right- and yes, you hike straight up, no room for zig zagging here. The last of these photos shows the immensely rewarding view of Zion Canyon from the top:






The following day, we geared up with special hip wader style pants to hike the Virgin River Narrows. October is the rainiest month in Southern Utah, and the river was much higher and colder than it might be in summer, when it is most visited.

Alas, we had to return our rubbers and depart Zion, perhaps the Best National Park...ever.

Grand Canyon and Ole Route 66. Click, Click.

We drove to the Heart of America to watch the eagle fly. That's what Hannah said to write just now. (Editor's Note: Ms. Carmalt, touched by the beauty and integrity of her nation and its citizens, showed waxing patriotism during the composition of this document). What really happened was that we went to the Grand Canyon. We were impressed by how many layers of canyon there were, the multiplicity of it all. Like other world famous natural features, the zillions of pictures that have been taken don't really do it justice. So here's a few more (you may notice a slight cringe in Hannah's face; for some inexplicable reason she was suffering from severe back pain that limited her ability to take a single step, let alone hike to Ooo-ahh Point, where the team is sitting):
One last comment: If you have not seen the canyon and wish to go, be ye warned: protect thee from the copious burro scat littering the trails.

We drove away from the Grand Canyon, leaving Hannah's purse on top of the car. We realized this in Tusayan, AZ, where a bout of frustration, an unsuccessful backtrack search, and poor timing forced us, shamefully, to deviate from our solemn vow and eat at a Wendy's. Luckily, "Ranger Monitor" called Hannah's father using her cell phone to alert us that it was found, and we were able to arrange a pickup a couple days later. [Note: this marked the fifth occasion that Hannah's Incan-blessed "lucky wallet" has been lost and returned to her since its acquisition in Quito in 2002].

Before we located the purse but after we canceled the credit cards, we met up with Hannah's friend LaLa and her boyfriend Stewart in Flagstaff, where Stewart had attended Northern Arizona Uni. He gave us a grand ole tour including a taqueria with first rate avocado salsa, and a hotel bar catering to hippie chicks with long dreds dancing to a jam band, which was a lot of fun. We were also able to see his college house conveniently located next to the train tracks. Sadly, although the team rated Flagstaff Best College Town of the Trip, we did not get any pics. Doh!

We left our friends and made our way east through the Navajo Nation. Our journey took us right to the Four Corners, which we had been told makes a great "click, click" by a camper from LA that Ben met at Capitol Reef who seemed to specialise in campsite amenities and photo opportunities. Amazingly, this site was surrounded by fence and was actually closed when we arrived. Needless to say, we asked a gang of retirees, coincidentally present there at 10PM as well, to do a little click, click before we got back in the ride.


After spending a night in Cortez, CO, we reached Mesa Verde National Park, the eastern-most point along the Grand Circle of parks. Vegetation was still showing damage from
a fire that had occurred in July 2002, but the featured attractions here are the remnants of numerous complex dwellings built by the ancestral Pueblans before they were abandoned circa 1300. We visited Spruce Tree House and Cliff Palace, the latter with a requisite guided tour with about fifty visitors. The park ranger who led the tour was quite taken with the genius and wisdom of the people who had inhabited the structure, and especially what the anthropological record had deduced of their cosmology.

Much of this she was able to impart with both objectivity and intriguing detail, recommending further readings to those interested. She did begin to swerve into some new age-ish advocacy when, for example, she stated that "the Pueblan people communicate on the heart level, while Western cultures communicate from the gut level". She explained that this society did not have a concept of good and evil; instead, they conceived of balance and imbalance-a point which the team rather enjoyed. However, this was too much for the bedrock beliefs of one guest, who challenged this notion, blurting "But what about evil? It's out there". The new age ranger, composing herself, said that this could be clarified through a three-hour discussion after the tour, but chided the skeptic for interrupting.

Canyonlands

We had always wondered where they filmed the Roadrunner cartoons! We found it at Canyonlands, an underutilized park with amazing rock spires and mounds and slickrock to climb, which, the guidebook stated "would make your feet happy". This park has two main areas, The Needles and Island in the Sky (we called it Pie in The Sky, with no pejorative intended; we were just confused). In The Needles we hiked through a creekbed which seemed relatively dull, until we reached an amazing amphitheater, crawled up, and saw the pointed forms that the area is named for. In Pie in The Sky, we camped, and took in a lecture on the geology of the massive canyons from the edge of the "poor man's grand canyon".











The Race to the Finish

We completed the Grand Tour and started the final stretch to Seattle via Salt Lake City, home of our former trip companions, the Matson Family, who took us in for a night. At this point (actually since Arches) there was something dragging from the undercarriage of the car, National Lampoon-style. We spent a morning in SLC touring the Mormon holy sites, including the big temple and the Latter Day Saints administrative building, the height of which no building in town is permitted to surpass. The temple is in high demand for nuptials, and there were three weddings being performed at 11:00 AM on a Thursday.

We continued on, spending an evening in Boise, Idaho, which has a Basque community it turns out, and we ate in a pub called Gernika that served us a good tortilla espanola and some croquetas.

Our last day of driving was spent driving through Eastern Oregon and Washington, which reminded Hannah of moon and tundra. We stopped off for a little wine tasting in the newly designated Rattlesnake Hills viticultural area near Yakima, nothing remarkable to report, except for some white port which we shared with a tipsy man that ultimately offered Hannah a lead on a job. Maybe. Cheers to everyone! Please keep in touch. It helps the team cope with Hannah's homesickness.

Oh yeah- we couldn't have had a real American cross country trip with eagles flying and so on without the following pic taken outside of Zion National Park: