• PNW coast is breathtaking but wet!
• Windshield wipers are my favorite car accessory; thank goodness I had the forethought to have new ones installed a few weeks ago
• Is it “eee-col-i” park—like the disease?—or Ec-co-li like the Italian word ecco?
• Car mishap has already happened, so I should be in the clear for the rest of the trip
• The less expensive the hotel, the less control you have over climate control and, the more it smells like mold

The Pacific Northwest (PNW) is very wet and therefore very green. Its coastline and beaches are also very beautiful! Although I’m glad the people of the PNW have somewhere nice to go so they don’t shoot themselves or anyone else when it rains 90 days straight, it does seem a pity that these beautiful beaches can’t be somewhere sunny and warm.

Everett, WA – Boeing

Luckily, I stopped at AAA in Seattle to pick up maps and a Triptik before heading south to see the Boeing plant tour; the plant tour is at a facility that’s actually north of Seattle.

I asked the AAA man about Boeing, then asked him if Edwards Airforce Base gives tours. He looked at me suspiciously and asked if I was a pilot or something. He probably thought I was a terrorist seeking out all flight-related facilities.

At Boeing, I saw them manufacturing 777s, 747s, and 757s in the largest building in the World. The tour guide provided lots of statistics about cubic footage; the most memorable is that the building’s so large that Disneyland could fit in it and there would still be several acres left over for indoor parking. It was somehow unsettling to see that planes are assembled by hand which seems to leave a lot of room for error but, obviously not. What was also interesting to learn is what an empire Boeing is, one built in less than 100 years. Their only commercial competition is Airbus. I laughed to myself when I saw a plane that Delta was taking delivery on that morning. The plane’s staircase was covered with balloons which caused me to remember what we used to say at OpenAuto—balloons sell cars. I guess they sell planes too.

Now I’ve seen manufacturing plants producing: helicopters (my father worked at Sikorsky); tanks and amphibious vehicles (I worked a college summer at Avco-Lycoming); battle ships in the boatyard from my windowed cube in Norfolk, VA; and planes. I need to see an auto plant to finish the list. Top

Long Beach, WA – Longest Beach in the World

I drove winding roads through logging forests—“Second generation growth; First harvested in 1966”. I saw lots and lots of trucks hauling logs. I also passed lots and lots of trucks with odd trailers. I finally figured out that the odd trailers were empty log haulers “folded up”.

I stopped at a trout fish hatchery hoping to see, fish hatching or something. The water in the “raceways” was too brown to see any fish although they occasionally rippled the surface. There are fish hatcheries all over the place in the PNW. The marketing spin is that they do this all for anglers which seems like a waste of money to me (as opposed to keeping the ecology in balance or something); but it’s not my tax dollars because they’re state-run, so no complaints.

I love beach towns! I love the shore – any shore (the Cancer water-sign in me). Long Beach, WA claims to have the longest beach in the world. It is very big. It has a narrow but long boardwalk as well as beach horse-rides (during season). Town is large enough to accommodate two for-the-locals dive-bars, more than 5 kite shops, two galleries, numerous kitschy shops, putt-putt golf courses, and two mini-carnivals/arcades. WA’s annual international kite festival is held in Long Beach which I guess is a very big deal because my hotel’s lobby was decorated with past years’ posters celebrating the event. I’ve made a mental note to return to Long Beach for the kite festival. Top

Over the Columbia River – Explorers, a pilot, and pushers

Tuesday, I drove south from Long Beach, WA through a series of beach towns into Oregon down to Tillmook, OR. This coast is really beautiful – I highly encourage visitors, in the summer though. Aside from Maine, there isn’t anywhere on the East Coast this unpopulated yet with services and a road so close to coastal views.

My first stop was the Lewis and Clark interpretive center on Cape Disappointment. It’s named that because Lewis & Clark were disappointed that they had not discovered an inland waterway from the Pacific to St. Louis. The center was pretty good and I learned that the way we were taught in grade school to say “Sakagewea” is wrong. I won’t attempt to spell the correct pronunciation. Actually, I learned that most of what I remember from school about the Lewis and Clark expedition was wrong. It was, of course, pouring rain but I hiked out to the Cape Disappointment light house anyway. Like most other Pacific lights, Cape D’s was a squat little fella situated on dramatic rock cliffs. In clear weather the view of the Columbia River’s mouth would have been spectacular.

From there I drove across a long bridge that spans the Columbia River to Astoria, OR. I had lunch at a riverside restaurant where I was delighted to watch sea lions and some type of fishing birds while I downed fresh crab cakes. Astoria, founded by John Astor when he was a logging king, actually had a lot to see because they are trying to transition from a poor former logging town to a tourist town. Astoria had a great maritime museum with a tallship replica (built in the 1990s) and Columbia River maritime history including tales of all of the shipwrecks caused by sand bars formed at the mouth of the river. It’s called the graveyard of the Pacific. The maritime museum was a great primer for a visit to the Flavel House, a Victorian age (late 1800s) home that was built by Astoria’s first millionaire who was a river pilot. Apparently, he was the first and only river pilot, so you can imagine the rates he charged to pilot ships past the “bar” making him a millionaire by 1886. Finally, I ascended to the site of Astoria Column. The phallic Column is a tower with 162 steps akin to Boston’s Bunker Hill memorial. From the top you get a tremendous 360 degree view. In clear weather, supposedly you can see Mt. St. Helen. Need I say, it was raining? So, no mountain views for me, but pretty impressive anyway.

Heading south from Astoria, I drove through many cute beach towns (Canon Beach was my favorite) and through Ecoli state park, which has views of PNW’s most photographed coastline. In Ecoli Park, I had my first car mishap. I stopped then backed up to take pictures of really pretty birch-like trees (the light was amazing and the little leaves were incredibly green). Unfortunately, I backed my rear and half of the front right tires off of the road into very wet leaves, rendering me stuck (my trunk is full of stuff so that the front-wheel drive couldn’t pull out). A healthy SUV-bikes-on-the-back family came by almost immediately. They asked if I needed a push. We were able to get the car out pretty effortlessly (I was behind the wheel so it was really easy for me). I didn’t pass another car the rest of the time I was in the Park, so I was very lucky they came by!  The Gods looked favorably upon me, for the skies cleared a bit for my photo opp of the Coast.

I ended the day’s driving in Tillmook across from the cheese factory of the same name, which my tour book stated was OR’s biggest tourist attraction. Top

Tillmook, OR – Cheese

This morning I got up early to do the cheese factory tour. I was pretty disappointed because there wasn’t really a tour. There’s a self-guided exhibit with a viewing station of the cheeseworks. I expected an on-floor tour of the works. The most interesting thing I saw from the viewing station far above the floor was cheese and butter packaging which, aside from reminding me of the Laverne & Shirley show opening and Lucy and Ethel packing chocolates, wasn’t all that intriguing. The cheese samples weren’t even that good. I think I recognized the Monterey Jack with peppers cheese as that which I used to buy in SF. I’ll stick with Cracker Barrel and NY or VT sharp cheddar (no orange die). They did have good ice cream though (a friend recommended it via phone the night prior) in which I indulged (black raspberry). Tillmook cheese must have paid a placement fee to the tour book guy.

The rest of the day Wednesday was spent mostly just driving. I went to see another lighthouse in another state park. I saw the town of Pacific in which I would definitely like a vacation home. Then I drove up to Portland to see a former colleague from NYC and, to buy a digital camera at the brick and mortar location of my favorite online camera store.

I write this from Eugene, OR in a Motel 6 that smells moldy. Top

Avoiding Getting Chopped Up - Safety Concerns

Yes, I am being careful. I tear into shreds all of my receipts to avoid identity theft by some hotel cleaning person. I try to hide the tour books when I leave the car so it’s not obvious (aside from the CA plates) that I am on the road. I lock the doors as soon as I get into the car. I don’t let the tank get under quarter full. I am sure to have at least $100 but not more than $200 on me. I have 2 rolls of quarters for parking and my Leatherman knife in the glove compartment (as my sister said, I’d have to ask an offender to wait while I try to quickly unfold the knife without breaking a nail; she offered me her switchblade which seemed a bit extreme). Thus far the cell phone has been getting pretty good service. I plan to write this email summary every 3-5 days. So, if a week passes without email from me I’ve been chopped up in a National Park. Top

• There’s snow in them thar hills!
• Sunshine!
• Bigfoot sightings

Eugene, OR to Eureka, CA – Curvy Sasquatch Country

Today I drove from Eugene, OR to Eureka, CA via I-5 then CA-299 which is also known as Trinity Highway. As predicted, today’s drive was long – 800 miles which is like driving from NYC to Atlanta.

Up north in OR it was overcast (of course) but the southern end of I-5 in OR is very pretty and mountainous. There’s fresh snow on the hills/mountains above 3,500 ft. which was really pretty. Lots of sheep and, signs for a service that ships lamb to any U.S. location. I-5 is a basic highway with some nice scenery.

Once I crossed into CA the sun broke through gray clouds clearing the skies from then on. The CA-border agriculture cops (which I always find amusing) at the border must prevent Oregon’s bad weather from entering CA.

I had no idea what I was getting into when I turned off of the I-5 highway onto CA-299. CA-299 winds west from the middle of CA to the Pacific ocean. It is only about 200 miles long but, they’re harrowing miles! It’s a very curvy mountain road that switchback climbs up then tumults down, eventually paralleling the Trinity River running at the base of a deep, narrow, forest canyon. Because it’s Spring, the trees were deep green just like a Crayola forest green crayon. The vista must be spectacular in the Fall because, unlike north of here, there were a lot of deciduous (leafy) trees in addition to coniferous (evergreens). This area must also have great hiking and fishing. It’s really remote, located in a national forest with only three or four towns (pop. 250) along the way which were really just depots supplying the many riverside campgrounds. Every once in a while I’d see some residences ranging from broken down shacks to trailer homes (requisite broken down cars in yard) to an occasional really nice home. I don’t know what the heck the people who live in those houses do for a living because it’s a really long drive to any commerce in either Redding or Eureka. Thus far, it’s the most remote area I’ve ever been in within the States.

CA-299 also runs through the primary residence of Mr. and Mrs. Sasquatch so, many of the local businesses are Bigfoot Rafting, Bigfoot General, Bigfoot Gas, etc. I kept my eyes peeled for the furry giant. I thought I may have spotted him/her but, it was just a burly local emerging from his shack.

Finally, there must be an antique car show going on in CA somewhere – Fresno? Sacramento? I saw at least 20 ZZ Top type cars driving or being hauled. On I-5 I was driving along with two suped-up super-painted models that were steadily going 80+ mph so they’ve obviously had some work done. Top

• Eureka, ya can’t get there from anywhere
• Please, no more curvy roads!!
• Mendocino is all that it’s said to be
• Mountain lions?!

First, some odd roadside sites/observations:

Have you ever seen a cow lying down? I mean all out lying down on its side? Accustomed to seeing cows “kneeling” (means it’s going to rain, according to VT lore), I never before saw one flat-out on its side. I thought the first one I saw was sick/dead. Then I saw more. I will try to take a pic of the next one I see so fully reclined.

If I ever own a restaurant of any ilk, it will have fresh pepper mills on every table.

Twice I’ve heard TV broadcast over the radio. At first it was CNN which wasn’t too bad except I couldn’t see the photos of the train wreck in FL to which the anchor was referring. The next morning I listened to the Price is Right which actually doesn’t lose much in the translation from TV to radio. Top

Eureka, CA—Eureka! The best part of this town is it’s name!

Upon entering Eureka Thursday evening after the 800-mile drivathon, it lacked charm. I thought I might have been grouchy from too much driving so, I put off judgment until daylight. The next morning, I explored Eureka’s historic district concluding that my initial impression was accurate. Their tourist gem is a Victorian home that is closed to the public—you’re supposed to get excited about photographing its facade. It is pretty and it does have an unusual number of dormers, towers, etc. but, it isn’t that much more attractive than any number of well-kept private and public Victorians in SF.

It took so long (3.5 hrs) to get to Eureka from I-5 (which runs north-south from Canada to Mexico). And, there are no other even-close-to-major towns within three hours of Eureka. So the people who live in Eureka either, fly a lot, love it there a lot, or drive more than I can imagine. You just can’t get there from anywhere, easily. Top

Avenue of the Giants & Scotia, a Company Town

These trees, Sequoius Coastalialias (or something like that), are huge! If I hadn’t previously visited John Muir Woods close in SF, I would have been shocked. This national forest is comprised of 53,000 first-growth (never cut) trees that date back to B.C. It’s amazing that they were saved (I guess Muir should be thanked for that – not sure) because they’re surrounded by Pacific Lumber tree farms. I opted not to “drive through” one of the huge redwoods. The ones you drive through are not in the park system; they are privately owned and it seemed exploitive after a park ranger told me it was.

Oh, I took a tour of Pacific Lumber’s (Palco) company town, Scotia. It’s the last or one of the last company towns still operating in the U.S. I watched lumbermen cut huge logs into building lumber. Actually, it wasn’t that interesting. I thought I was going to see manufacturing of wood byproducts, like paper, which would have been cool. There’s not too much magic behind cutting a huge log into planks. They use lasers to cut, blah, blah; re-generate fishing habitats, selectively cut groves, blah, blah – messages from your public relations team.

South, in Ft. Bragg, there’s a really large and ugly Boise-Cascade paper plant. It’s horribly situated directly on the coast blocking beach access for miles (and who would want to sit on their smog-beach anyway?). AND “Positively no visitors allowed.” So no paper-making tour for curious me.

Back to Scotia, its little company-owned houses, and company-owned stores, and company-owned post-office, etc. were charming. I hope it’s pleasant to work/live there. I didn’t get a chance to ask anyone. I hope it’s not like that old coal-miner song “I owe my sole to the comp-any store.” Wait, I’m a numbscull—they’re assuredly union and therefore getting paid guaranteed dollars to push those little laser buttons. Top

Ft. Bragg, CA – Where’s the fort?

The drive on CA SR1 (scenic route) from Leggett (the southern most town of the National Redwood Forrest) to Ft. Bragg is another super-curvy road. After 3.5 hours on crazy-curvy, up-and-down CA-299 the day prior, the challenge and fun of super-curvy roads have lost their appeal. Done! So much so, that although I usually enjoy driving CA SR1 along Marin County’s coast, I plan to skip it for HWY 101 to get to SF. Aside from CO/NM, I don’t expect to come across many more mountain roads so I should be clear of switchbacks in the Honda for a while. Then again, I don’t know that much about the Appalachians in TN/NC so I may be in for more.

Ft. Bragg is a sizeable town/smallish city. Can’t say much about it, except that I drove through Friday making my way to Mendocino. I returned Saturday to shop at their reasonably priced “Fairway”-like grocery store, Harvest, to get some nice cheese and wine. Looked for a fort but there is none. Top

Mendocino, CA – Charm, pygmies, and mountain lions

It’s everything everyone says—beautiful, wonderfully preserved, charming, expensive. And, very small. I was picturing something akin to Newport, RI. But it’s actually only a few blocks wide by a few blocks long on a head that jets into the Pacific. The views are outstanding. The shops are cute (bought something for me, something for my SF host). Haven’t found a studio featuring a native artist I enjoy or, anyone who knows of him. Restaurant prices are equal to NYC’s (paid $36 for spinach salad and pasta primavera last night; $11 this morning for blueberry pancakes and sausage) but delicious. Aside from eating and shopping, there isn’t much to do in Mendocino, so it’s a perfect romantic get-away…alas…

I am staying, by luck because it was the least expensive listing in my AAA book and they had vacancy, at Blackberry Inn. It’s sooo cute! It’s designed to look like a little western town. Every room’s facade is its own business: The Saloon, the Doctor’s, the Schoolhouse (with a bell at the top), the Bank, Ellies’ (the “cat” house), The Sweet House, etc. And there are flowers everywhere and a deer just walked by my ocean-view window! My room, with its fruit/brownie basket and fresh flowers, is also huge (size of my SF living room).

Today, I drove a little south to see the “pygmy forest” at Van Damme State Park. Described as “natural” bonsai, I was picturing a bunch of bonsai trees in a manicured garden. Disappointingly, it’s just a bunch of scraggly trees in poor soil so they can’t grow tall, for centuries.

Bored with the pygmy trees, I proceeded on to an honest-to-goodness canyon hike. The first sign said “WARNING! YOU ARE ENTERING MOUNTAIN LION TERRITORY!” followed by advice in case you come across one. That didn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy but, I marched on.

Three miles or so into my hike, I made a note to myself to get my hiking boots out of the trunk (my miraculous Merrell moccasins can only do so much). Four miles into it, I cursed myself for not bringing water. At the completion, six miles, I was glad I did it to work off my expensive pancake breakfast. It’s a good reminder for when I get to Utah that I need some Deet and a whistle, to wear proper shoes, and to fill up my propy-bottle I bring everywhere thus far, empty. I wish Dasani flowed from every spicket – I love that stuff. Top

SF – Great fun which is not for public consumption

It was great catching up with friends in SF! And sad to know that it will be a while before I see them again.

I got a stupid sunburn on my neck/shoulder as a result of eating lunch with friends al fresco. It doesn’t hurt except when I put on my knapsack which is, well, every time I get out of the car. So I bought Coppertone’s new gel SPF30. Good stuff. Also, luckily I won’t be hitting any more cities where I know my way around because, the combination of warm weather and my lack of sandals/shorts proved detrimental to my budget. Just as well because I had to throw a lot of warm-weather shoes away when I packed up my SF apt – lots in the back of the closet had gross mold growing on them. That mold discovery explained the huge green bedroom carpet stain that preceded my residence but resisted my cleaning efforts. I understand that killer mold is Erin Brokovitch’s latest crusade…maybe I should alert her of 2789 Union St.

SF had unusually beautiful warm weather; the sailboats were out in full-force, a vista that still spellbounds me as I cross the Golden Gate Bridge and, when I peek over the crest of Divisadero St. Unfortunately since I was there during weekdays, my sailboat-owning friends had to work. Top

I left San Francisco early Wednesday morning to drive south to San Simeon where Hearst Castle is. I took the highway (101) because it’s faster and I’ve previously made the trip down the coast through Santa Cruz, Monterey and Carmel on SR1. The road was lined with farms filled with workers hoe-ing or bent over picking. Gosh, that must suck. It wasn’t obvious what they were harvesting; maybe lettuce.

Cambria/Hearst Castle – Hello, Sailor!

I stopped in Cambria (yes, like the Italian state) for lunch. Just a few miles south of Hearst Castle on SR1, Cambria is a really neat town about which I wish I had known prior to driving in. For those of you in CA, definitely put it on your weekend vacation list. It’s full of arts, antiques, and jewelry shops. It’s dotted with little inns and B&Bs too. In addition, although I was hoping for an authentic burrito, the town has several Italian restaurants probably following the town name theme. I chose the pizza joint with the most Mexicans (i.e. locals) which was a good call because the staff was super friendly and the za great.

I ate with a couple of handsome marines in dress uniforms (not wedding dress, but khaki tops with blue/yellow side striped pants) who are on 3-year posts to recruit somewhere around there (love a man in uniform!). They both had been stationed in Hawaii. One joined at 17, married at 19, now is 25, planning to make a career of the Marines. The other joined after college (ROTC), married at 23, and is now 28 and unwilling to say what happens after this post. It reminded me of my days commuting on US Air from Norfolk to Newark sitting next to Navy guys—they were all in their late teens/early 20s and married (“goin’ to see my ‘ol lady in [fill in the NJ town blank]”). These marines were pretty entertaining, talking up the opportunity to travel with the Marines. Hence, why they are recruiters.

Cambria is also close to expansive sunny beaches and Hearst Castle. Thumbs up on Cambria!

Hearst Castle was as expected. All of the photos I’ve seen are true to life so it’s beautiful. I wish the tour guide spent more time explaining the origin and artists behind the art collection housed therein. For example, all of the large rooms in the main house have ceilings from Europe, choiries from Europe acting as paneling, tapestries, etc. The tour guide gave the basics, ex. ceiling from Spain, 400 years old. But never explained where in Spain, what they were in before, who carved them, etc. Apparently William R. Hearst bought many of his European pieces in NYC under the guise of supporting the U.S. economy which was, at the time of building (1919-1947), in the Depression. So maybe they don’t have all of the documentation explaining everything but I doubt it. I won’t bore you with the details of how this wealthy man (inheritance via silver mining which his father didn’t get into until he was 40—still hope for me) became wealthier (media—newspapers & news movies) or, how he openly spent the second half of his married life separated from his wife while cohabitating with a movie star. It was interesting, though, to learn that because most of Hearst’s seven estates (one on Long Island, one in Whales, the rest in CA) were built during the depression he, uh, took advantage of everyone’s need for work. Therefore, he built it all for a bargain. He left the San Simeon “Ranch” to CA when he died as a legacy. It’s apparently quite the little money maker for the state park system, so they’ve been pleased.

The tour guide did make a casual comment which was worth thinking about. Prior to email, instant messenger, etc., everything was written on paper which could be preserved for history’s sake. How will my ancestors know about this trip (assuming I produce some which I’d like to do some day) since it’s all documented electronically? Do I start archiving stuff? If yes, then what do I do with all of the zip disks/CDs which I tend to throw out when I know the content is no longer relevant to me?  Food for thought…

I forgot to mention that when I was driving along SR-1 approaching Hearst Castle, I saw what I thought were zebras up in a field grazing with cows. I pulled over to look. The striped objects didn’t seem to move so I figured it was a salt lick or something and that I needed to get my eyeglasses prescription updated. It turns out they were zebras! Hearst had a zoo on his property with polar bears and all but, the zebras were left on the estate with some gazelle, elk, and cattle. Top

San Joaquin Valley to Bakersfield, CA - “Food grows where water flows”

I officially started heading East when I drove CA-46 east from Hearst Castle to Bakersfield across the southern end of the San Joaquin Valley. It was weird having the sun in the rear view mirror. Now it’s official, I’m heading home after 1,000 miles or so heading south. The weather is crystal clear skies and warm (70 degrees or so). Can I say again how nice it is to be out of the rain of the PNW?

The theme of CA-46 is “Food grows where water flows”. A message brought to me many times by CA’s water rights petitioners. I have mixed feelings about water diversion/rights in southern CA, so I’ll move on.

The roadside was at first flanked by CA’s central coast wineries’ vineyards. I recognized one—Meridian—never liked their wine much. Then, after crossing over the coastal hills into the valley, the roadside scenery changed to short trees (5-6 ft). Wondering what kind they were, I thought it was convenient that they were short because it would be easier to pick the harvest and, with less height, they could produce more fruit (less energy upward). I figured they were some kind of nut tree so I sought a roadside stand at which I could buy gifts for my future hosts. After 50-70 miles of nothing but huge orchards of the same trees, I came across a closed down stand. The signs said “Locally Grown Almonds! Locally Grown Pistachios!” So, the trees are either almonds or pistachios. I’ll have to look up online if pistachios grow in trees.

Either way, who knew there was that much world demand for either? I mean acres and acres – like I said at least 50 miles of them. I tried to think of their every use: roasted almonds, almond slices, almond oil, however they make amaretto liquor, pistachios nuts, pistachio ice cream. I couldn’t think of our World’s use of 50 miles of acres and acres of almond or pistachio orchards. And, I know the U.S. isn’t the only producer of these nuts. I certainly hope my tax dollars aren’t subsidizing all these farms producing, basically, luxury goods. But they do make pretty roadside scenery.

On either side of the Valley are oil drills/mills/pumps – what do you call them? Multicolored pumps that exactly resemble those desktop toys of long glass birds dipping in and out of water glasses.

I pulled into a Best Western here in Bakersfield. Oh, gosh, what’s going on? At least 60 “hogs” are parked out front as well as a number of antique cars. The woman at the desk said it’s an annual event. The Harley owners don’t seem very scary although the hotel is. You know those Dateline episodes about hotel security? I think they filmed them here. The exterior doors have no locks and the door molding into which my room’s locks are secured is wobbly. Otherwise, the room is fine so I’ll take my $65 rate including full breakfast then run tomorrow to see a windmill farm. THE windmill farm featured in National Geographic last year. Top

• Every bedroom should have two beds; one to lounge and throw clothes on, the other to sleep in
• Motorcyclists aren’t all bad but their bikes are all too loud
• “Winning for Dummies” slot machines
• CT is a “duck”?

Boulder City, NV – Damn quite a dam

Thursday night I stayed in Boulder City which is the home of the Hoover Dam. I missed it the last few times I was in this area. The Dam is damn cool. It’s a lot smaller than I expected but, I thank goodness there are engineers far more clever than me, for I never would have figured out how to build it.

One fact: the dam wasn’t built for energy generation. Energy was #5 on the list of 5 objectives, the top 4 being water control. The motivational motto carved on the art deco façade is “Flowering the Desert.” Again, I have mixed feelings about water diversion in deserts, so I move on.

There were “security” warnings of search stops approaching the Dan. They comprised a bunch of cops waving people on while chatting. I can’t imagine what their screening criteria was. Top

Vegas – Suspend disbelief

Friday, I moved on to Vegas.

This was my fourth visit to America’s adult Candyland; the first was in July ’92 and it’s changed a lot since then. First, Spring is the perfect time of year to visit—the weather is perfect—comfortably hot during the day then cool at night. Second, the relatively new theme resort/casinos provide hours of entertainment, sampling European cultures and fairytale fantasies run amuck. It’s like Epcot except no German theme. (German culture and freewheeling wantonness don’t ring “Vegas” although Italy is well represented—never been to Germany; love Italy.)

I stayed at the Monte Carlo which is themed French/Italian. I guess the designers ran out of ideas to convey Monte Carlo because there was a very large micro-brewery and a string of thruway-rest-stop food-stations (McDonalds, Sbarro, Nathans’).

What, you may ask, does a single girl who does not gamble–doesn’t know how, for that matter—with neither a posse nor silicon boobs do in Vegas? Well, if you’re able to suspend reality for a weekend, pretending that you’re employed and have lots of disposable cash, there’s plenty to keep you entertained. That was my plan.

Friday, I saw a comedy show. Robert Schimler, described as raunchy for even Las Vegas standards; you had to be 18+ to see him and they only show him after 10pm. He was raunchy (lots of angry-short-man dick jokes) but not that funny (was wondering how long it would last during the last 20 minutes). I may have been alone in my assessment because the chick three seats down probably lost a kidney laughing. Schimler was the replacement for the resident magician whose name I should remember since it was plastered everywhere—Lance Burton? I hate magic shows so I’m glad he was on vaca.

Saturday, I checked out New York, New York, the Parisian, the Venician, the Bellagio, Ceasars, and the MGM Grand. That walk up and down the Strip provided some exercise and, I l-o-v-e the water show in front of the Bellagio. I believe that if they installed one in every major world city we’d get closer to world peace. It’s that good—if you hit the one featuring Sinatra’s “Luck be a Lady”. Bellagio also wins out as the most luxurious and the most-dressed cocktail waitresses.

In one of the restaurants in NY, NY they have a very large bas relief sculpture of the States hanging from the ceiling. Each state is in relative proportion with representations of the state poking out—Nevada had slot machines in the Reno and Vegas areas, Mass had the Mayflower, MD had crabs, NY had skyscrapers down south then baseball up north, apples, etc. CT had a wood duck down by Ffld County. That’s it. A wood duck. I didn’t get it. I looked to see what DE and RI had since they’re also small. RI had a sail boat and DE had MD’s left over crabs. So CT means wood ducks to people…go figure.

My walk was followed by a lovely day reading inside (it was too windy to sit at the pool) then a couple of spa treatments promising to “de-tox” me. That was after Friday’s rather mundane but functional die-and-cut at the hotel’s salon with a very chatty but pleasantly proffering of beauty tricks hair care professional, Deb (from Nova Scotia). Deb satisfied a month-long curiosity regarding of my official face shape (answer: oval bordering oblong) which led to hairstyle. She cut it as she’d like and it seems fine (what do I care as long as I can get it off of my face?). I asked her to watch the news for a pink/brown Honda with a dismembered woman inside. I joked that she would ask, “Dismembered, yes, but how does her hair look?” After the spa treatments Saturday I was pretty tired, so I watched PPV after quickly losing while passing through the casino $10 on black 22 at roulette.

Another noticeable change in Vegas is an often requested photo-ID. Check-in; show-ticket purchase. I’m not sure if it’s post 9/11 caution or fraud prevention but, I didn’t notice the same requests when I was here in August ’00.

I know I haven’t seen it all, but this is a marketing/branding extreme: they have slot machines here branded “Winning for Dummies”, yellow school-chalk-board effect and all…just like the books. Whoever came up with that deserves an award for brand extension! People were playing them.

And, as I mentioned in my last email, there were a lot of Harley Davidson riders in Bakersfield, CA. At least 60 parked or trailed at the Best Western where I stayed. Driving from there across the Mojave Desert I saw more and more packs of them. I asked the attendant at the gas station in Mojave what was going on.

He said, “Oh, this is normal. Sometimes cars can’t even get in to get gas.”

I thought, well, it’s Spring, the weather is decent, so I guess this is the best time to ride in the desert.

Then, at the horrible Super-8 (supposedly 2-star but horrible towels, horrible bed linens, horrible man asking what the hourly rate was) in which I stayed Thursday night in Boulder City, there were 10 Hogs spending the night. Regardless of what people think about Hog-riders, I can attest that they are pretty quiet at night but, they wake up their loud-ass bikes early (7:30am). Even at 22 stories above and a block west of Las Vegas Blvd. I could still hear those decibel-crashing motor-machines. I can tell from the people with whom I chatted in Bakersfield and Baker, CA, where I stopped at the “Mad Greek’s” for lunch, that Hog riders are from all walks of life. They can all afford a $30K+ custom bikes (b/c they’re quadrillionaires, b/c they scrimp and save, b/c they’re retired and riding on) which they buff and polish at every stop. BUT, they relish the hell-raising noise which I HATE.

Apparently, it’s not “normal” to have hundreds and hundreds of hogs around as the gas station attendant in Mojave said. There is an annual bike rally going on about 100 miles south of Vegas in the “V” of Nevada that dips into CA/AZ, Laughlin. It attracts thousands of bikers of all kinds so they’re all in the area making a vacation of it. As you’ve probably heard by now, the “River Run” rally attracted 70-80K bikers to Laughlin. A fight broke out between Hells Angels and some other gang, guns fired, people were killed. There’s always a bad apple or two. Top

• Psychic old man

Moab, UT - Slick rock hiking & psychic old man

Moab, UT is the gateway to several National and state parks: Arches, Canyonlands, and Dead Horse Point. It’s an off-roader’s and mountain biker’s dream with miles and miles of rough trails. Here you can also climb walls, river raft, and hike. Probably lots more. There’s too much to here in the little amount of time I have. So I went for a hike.

It’s been, let’s see…five years? since I’ve hiked at altitude and I was only at 5,000 feet today. It was hot and sunny so I coated on SPF 30 and put a gallon of water in my backpack.

While I was prepping at my car at a trail head parking lot, an elderly man (late 70s) was getting into the passenger side of his car parked adjacent to mine. He said, hello and I said hello back.

Then he said, “So, where in NY are you from?”

“I have CA plates, what makes you think I’m from NY?” I asked.

“I just know,” he replied, “but, I bet you’re really from Greenwich, CT.”

Flabbergasted, because I was wearing no telltale aside from pearl earrings—no baseball cap, no t-shirt with logos, nothing. In fact, I was wearing the most awful looking Gap circa 1991 clothes I own. And, all I had said was, hello.

I said, “Well, you’re right. Where are you from?”

“I live in Denver. I lived in New York until the syndicate took over the Democratic party,” he said with a smile. “By ‘syndicate’ I mean the mob. Enjoy the park,” he said as he lifted his legs into his Buick Park Avenue.

Very strange. Maybe he’s ex-mafia in the witness relocation program.

I also met a nice couple up at the Delicate Arch from Sutter, CA (north) who have only left northern CA once before. This is their second vacation in 20+ years! They own their own business making it difficult to get away.

Despite walking slowly and drinking nearly the full gallon of water, I got overheated after 3 miles. I’m still sort of recovering, so I leave you with this:

Moab is great. Come one come all. It’s beautiful and kinda like a negative image of the Grand Canyon. Instead of looking at a hole wondering what used to be in it, you are looking at pillars and arches wondering what used to be around them. If I had known how much more applicable in real life geology (rocks for jocks) is vs. chemistry and physics, maybe I would have taken it. The only time I use either of the later is while mixing salad dressing and adjusting sail trim. Moab’s red rock everywhere and the slow moving pre-awe-inspiring Colorado River. Unfortunately, I think there is a large fire somewhere close by in the back country. Although it’s twilight, I can see huge billows of thick dark smoke rising above the western hills. Top

• Lots covered in little time
• Government hazing
• Energy vortex
• HCFLs stink

I was in Utah when I last wrote; three days later I’m in Arkansas after visiting a friend in Denver, visiting Taos and Santa Fe, New Mexico, the Texas panhandle, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.

Colorado - Up then down

If any state has a right to have a “split” personality, Colorado earns it. Yet it doesn’t have that reputation (like SoCal vs. NoCal). Colorado’s West half is all mountains, then you descend a long gradual (6% grade) hill entering Denver and that’s it—flat as far as the eye can see. I visited a friend who relocated late last year to a really pretty and quaint Denver mountain suburb. During a brief ride into town, we saw elk feeding in yards along the road. I don’t think I’ve ever seen elk, so I was pretty excited.

On the way south to New Mexico, I stopped at the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. They have an architecturally notable chapel that is designed to look like wings. I happened to be there in time to watch the daily government-sanctioned hazing which seems to involve getting into corps formation on the parade square in order to earn lunch. I still like Navy uniforms best. But, it would be pretty cool to be 20 with a pilot’s license! There was no flight activity which was a bummer. Top

New Mexico - Energy vortex

I couldn’t decide if I should stay in Taos or Santa Fe since I wanted to see both. So I did.

I think Taos’s charm potential was diminished by overcast weather. Taos Pueblo (the town) is at about 7K ft and the ski resort is at 9K. The approach via rte 64 (rural road) is heavily wooded with evergreens and looks pretty much like any other ski area off-season: rough roads, gravel/dirt driveways, houses sporadically located close to the road, run-down. The town itself has a small Spanish-style plaza lined with nice art galleries and junky “trading posts”. Taos was founded in the name of St. Francis so his likeness can be bought in the form of statues, paintings, carvings, etc. The rest of town is one 4-lane road lined with fast food joints and motels. I imagine it may be more pleasant in the winter with the shops providing non-skiing entertainment. Supposedly Taos is a metaphysical center due to an “energy vortex” which sensitives can feel. I had a bad vibe while I was there, probably due more to rude service professionals at the motel than to any energy vortex.

The next morning I drove down to Santa Fe which is basically a larger version of Taos (more appropriately, the reverse). So Santa Fe has more nice galleries and more junky tourist shops. I went into the Museum of Fine Arts which is small: two of the five galleries were closed, and the largest had an exhibit celebrating the anniversary of the museum. So there wasn’t much fine art to see. I also went to the Art Institute for Native Americans. I came to realize that I am far more interested in “ancient” Indian art than in what modern Native Americans are producing in the “l’Ecole de Beaux Arts” of Native American schools. Santa Fe’s plaza also has a very old (dated 1600-something; keep in mind that the Spanish explored the area by 1540) Spanish-style Cathedral and a long adobe building which served as the Spanish Governor’s Palace. The Palace has a long portico that was lined with Native Americans hawking junky “collectibles”. It reminded me a lot of Cusco in Peru so, I avoided the potentially aggressive junk-sellers.

If you collect Native American art or have money to spend on western style furniture, rugs, etc., Santa Fe is the place to be. I looked at several Navajo rugs for my new apt. The one I wanted was $6500. I took the saleswoman’s card and decided to keep the store in mind for future reference. In the meantime, I’m sure a Pottery Barn knock-off will do just fine. Top

Route 66

From Santa Fe to Knoxville, TN, I am traveling route 40. From Santa Fe to Oklahoma City, route 40 follows the former Route 66, the Mother Road. After stopping at several diners, reading my Roadtrip book, and falling for the highway ads for a couple of Route 66 museums, I now have a better sense of Route 66’s mystique. It was the first road to connect Chicago to LA. It is the road the Oakies took West to escape the Depression Era dustbowl. It’s the road from tough times to a good life. Now it’s a road of roadside stands celebrating a lifestyle that died decades ago. Today’s equivalent would be …commuting on Southwest from SF to LA? Or Charlotte to Pittsburgh via US Air? (Two commutes that friends are currently undertaking.) Top

Texas Panhandle - Elsie's final stop

Just West of Amarillo is an odd sculpture of 10 Cadillacs buried head first in the ground. This is the photo-op of northern TX, one featured on the cover of my Roadtrip USA book. Not too surprising the idea was hatched in some SF art community.

There’s also a large cattle auction in Amarillo which I planned to visit until I passed an HCFL – high capacity feed lot. In short, there is a best-selling book out now called “Fast Food Nation” which uncovers the gross facets of fast food. In response to the book’s popularity, the New York Times Magazine recently published an article describing the life of a calf heading for Grade AAA ending up in a HCFL prior to slaughter. The article described the water and waste pollution resulting from putting hundreds of cattle on a few acres. I was caught off-guard approaching the Amarillo HCFL, car roof and windows open. The smell is unbelievably bad–far worse then just plain cow dung. I quickly changed my mind about visiting the cattle auction. Top

Oklahoma - Settled in several hours

OK is a lot more green than TX and, it is a little less flat with some small knolls. I basically cruised through the state with one stop in Oklahoma City. No, I didn’t go to the memorial. I’m saturated with personal national grieving which is going to hit home when I get home. I stopped at the National Cowboy Museum. It’s a beautiful building and the galleries are well done. They have many original Remingtons and Morses depicting western life on the pioneer. They also have a large collection of Native American art and every day items. Again, most of the native work is modern (circa 1960+) reflecting what might have been made 1600-1910. Note that it’s not a very PC museum. They represent the natives as better off now on reservations. If you’re a fan of western movies, they also have an overabundant amount of space dedicated to that type of Americana.

Leaving Oklahoma City I laughed to myself every time I saw a sign or got a radio signal from Muskogee—“I don’t want to be with no Oakie from Muskogee!” (Line from “Officer and a Gentleman”.) AAA described the road as running through oil country but I didn’t see any oil drills. AAA also said that Elk City was home to many quarter horse farms where they brought the cowboy’s favorite type of horse back from the brink of distinction. So I exited to drive all over that town. I didn’t see any horse farms. Top

Arkansas - Hat-ed it

I’ll probably think about this more as I travel further through the South: I find southern dialects odd. There is no natural border between OK and ARK but the residents’ accents and dialects are very different. Even right at the border. It’s bizarre. I think it makes sense in Europe where there are mountains or rivers dividing land. But across one map-drawn-border to another?

I guess I’ve entered the Bible Belt because I’m in a dry county. They should have huge signs that say “Warning! No Booze for XX miles! Stop here.”  After all, they do for fireworks and reservation casinos and cigarettes. It’s Friday night and I’d like some wine after driving 500+ miles. Oh well.

Arkansas is under construction. Almost every mile of route 40 in Arkansas is down to one lane. I have nothing nice to say about Arkansas so I won’t say anything at all. Top

Memphis

I always thought Memphis was in the southeast but if you look at a map, it’s really more in the Midwest although it is definitely “southern”. In fact, it’s in the central timezone, a trivia question I would definitely have got wrong. Situated on the Mississippi River, Memphis is a small city that reminded me a lot of Norfolk, VA. I expected too much of seeing the great river in all its glory. It’s very brown – akin to Willy Wonka’s coco river. In the morning, the river provides a dense ground fog in Memphis then, during the day it makes the City’s heat humid. A good reminder of what NYC will be like in the summer.

There’s a lot to do in Memphis, especially during May which is a festival month. Late last week, I caught an awful cough. The cough and a forewarning I received at a gas station in Arkansas about Memphis’ high-crime rates deterred me from exploring alone Beale St. to seek authentic live jazz.

A big ugly concrete building on the outside, the River Museum on Mud Island is wonderful inside. It’s filled with life-size replicas of a showboat, a Civil War river destroyer, actual Cherokee artifacts dating pre-Trail of Tears, the history of the Blues and Jazz and Rock, and much more. I thought that “showboat” simply referred to paddlewheel boats. It never occurred to me that they were show boats meaning, they carried vaudeville acts up and down the river to otherwise remote towns. Outside of the museum is a 5-block long scale model of the Mississippi River and its major shore cities very much like the Bay Model in SF. You get to Mud Island via a hanging Monorail featured in that Tom Cruise lawyer movie. Luckily, unlike the movie, there was no crowd in which I could get lost. Just me and several senior citizens.

Presumably, the neighborhood wasn’t slummy when Elvis built Graceland in southeast Memphis. Now the small estate is in a pretty sketchy hood. What can I say about Graceland that you haven’t already experienced or heard? It’s a rip-off and a lot smaller than I expected. It’s crossed off my list of things to see. When I got back into my car I wished I had bought as planned an Elvis CD before I started this trip. Top

TN

TN is really pretty. The highway has huge patches of brilliant red and crisp white wildflowers all along the roadside. Unfortunately, they were primarily on the inside island and the road was pretty busy so I didn’t get a chance to pull over to take pics. Full, green trees and rolling hills. I think it may be the prettiest landlocked state I’ve seen so far. CO was pretty impressive but TN is very easy on the eyes. Top

Oak Ridge, TN - Secret town

Oak Ridge is a town that was built by the US Army Corps during WWII as a top-secret and secured location for the U.S. to generate uranium and other atomic bomb materials that were shipped to Los Almos, NM to get blown-up as part of the Manhattan Project. I read about it in my AAA book so I took the side trip to check out the American Museum of Energy and Science.

A small museum filled with pretty good interactive displays, it was a reminder of chemistry and physics classes material I obviously didn’t retain. Even simple stuff like atomic weight calculations, radioactive decay, etc. should have been easier to recall without display prompts designed for school kids.

Oak Ridge was built under top-secret conditions and civilian workers were recruited without prior knowledge of what they’d be doing. Nor were they allowed to speak with other workers about their jobs so no one had a full idea of what they were building. It was declassified in 1949 (I think). Given the large amount of propaganda about what they are doing to “clean up” the area, my guess is that I now glow from radiation. But I still have my cough so the flying isotopes didn’t cure that. Lots of high-tech industry in the area so any of you rocket-scientists looking for work in CA may want to consider Oak Ridge, home of the first nuclear power plant. (BTW – heard on the radio that Congress approved the nuclear waste site 90 miles out of Las Vegas in NV. I wonder how they’ll get the shit there from Oak Ridge?)

Tomorrow I visit Biltmore Castle, a Vanderbilt estate. I am pretty excited to check it out; my anticipation grew while I searched for an hour for its location through my TN guide book. Turns out it’s in Asheville, NC. Then I’ll visit old friends who are all in Charlotte NC.

I signed a release for my furniture to begin its journey from San Bruno CA to NJ. Because the delivery date seems to be known only to the dispatcher, I might visit several sights in VA which I either have never seen or haven’t been to since I was under 10. Or, I’ll go to Kitty Hawk and enjoy a day or two on the Outer Banks. Top

• Biltmore Estate is huge and gay
• America’s people change
• Church names are weird
• Beaufort NC & Outer Banks are wonderful

Yesterday marked a month on the road including the preliminary week in Ireland. It honestly doesn’t seem that long. Perhaps my credit card would say otherwise. (BTW – I hate AT&T Universal Card; quit them if you have it. That’s coming from a “charter member”.)

North Carolina - Mountains to ocean

Granted, I’ve spent the last week in North Carolina alone. That may seem like a remarkably long time in one state; a state without huge canyons into which one can gaze or huge arches at which one can stare. Yet NC has other attractions including old friends and a long Atlantic shoreline.

First, upon entering the state, I visited Biltmore Estate, a 250-room home still owned by the Vanderbilts. Built by second generation richy-rich George Washington Vanderbilt 1892-1898, it is incredible! I think it is probably the most “castle-like” home in the U.S. The Vanderbilts definitely lived better than did Hearst in CA!  However, for the privilege of entry they charge a price rivaling a night in a motel and nearly beat Disneyworld’s day-ticket price.

I think GW Vanderbilt was gay. Here are the facts:

- GW started Biltmore construction at the age of 30 while unmarried; he included a bedroom for future wife

- married at the age of 35 as construction finished

- the average lifespan for a man at this time was like 56 (I made that up, but it was low so he was definitely closing in on elderly)

- he had one child, a girl

Now, wouldn’t you think that a straight man with millions of dollars would keep trying until he had a boy to carry on the name? His wife didn’t die in childbirth or anything so …because there are no tour guides (I rented a taped tour), I asked a guard if GW was gay. She emphatically shook her head, no. I said, “Come on, the man doesn’t get married until late in life then only has one child?”  “No, no” she says. I thought “read between the lines”.  So there you go; I’ve out-ed long-dead GW Vanderbilt.

I think the most remarkable observation on this trip has been how people—the locals—change as I travel through areas. It’s not a conscious thought until I see the color of their faces change when I think, hey, yeah, I haven’t seen a black person for days. From the West Coast, people were primarily white until Vegas. Vegas is a melting pot. Then again, UT through CO until New Mexico, all white. In fact, my friend who I stayed with in Denver said she noticed the lack of diversity there to which she was unaccustomed having lived the past 5-6 years in Silicon Valley, peopled with Mexicans, Asians, and Indians. New Mexico was interesting because actual Native Americans live there and they look like, well, Native Americans. I listened to a public radio station called something like “Reservation News” driving from Santa Fe to Amarillo. If you’ve ever seen the movie “Smoke Signals” (Great indy flick – highly recommend it), you’d recognize the very distinct cadence of Native Americans’ speech. I guess it’s an accent, yet it’s really more just the way they accent their sentences which is very relaxing and, I have to say, sleep inducing. TX through AR was white. Then Memphis had a large black population as does NC’s urban areas. Granted, the majority of people I’ve interacted with are in the service/tourism industry. Once in a while I’d have an (eastern) Indian motel manager. But for the most part, it’s been all white folks.

Speaking of race leads me to the fact that I’m in the South. I saw a scary billboard today. I wanted to stop to take a pic but was afraid I’d miss my ferry (turns out I read the schedule incorrectly so I could have stopped). The billboard said something along the lines of “Take back the South!” and had a confederate flag and other copy that sounded very KKK. In addition, there is an overabundance of confederate flag front-license-plates and scarves on the bikers.

Further, the Baptists’ church names amuse me.

“His Holy Redeemer and Forgiveness Church and Assembly”

“Church of God and Prophecy”

“Jesus Saves and Forgives Church of Redemption”

“Little Church of Christ’s Redemption”

You get the idea.

I guess there is one advantage to Catholic Churches – they all have short names of saints or biblical events. St. Pat’s, Assumption, St. Catherine’s are easy to remember.

Seeing these little roadside churches have given me cause to think about the wealth of the Catholic Church. I know, the Catholic Church is rich beyond words from tithing and centuries of European-state then U.S. political complicity.  However, the concept of the Catholic Church’s wealth never really hit home until I saw these itty bitty Baptist and Methodist churches lining rural North Carolina where Catholic churches are far and few between. No Catholic Church would be that small. These Baptist and Methodist churches are true community efforts making those fire bombings they suffered in the ‘90s that much more sad, despite their crazy names.

I stayed in Charlotte for four nights, visiting with friends and their cute children/babies and, basically resting. It was great to just chill out knowing that I didn’t have to drive the next day or check-out by 11:00am. This was my third trip to Charlotte which has a shiny, modern, tall downtown and miles of residential communities. My friends live in the residential parts. I stayed at Kimmy’s house which has lots of rooms but, being an apt. dweller I basically stayed in two: her den and my bedroom. If I ever buy a house, it doesn’t need many rooms, just lots of bedrooms for guests.

I left Charlotte for the shore via furniture country. NC is the home of american furniture and High Point, NC is the capital. In short, the true bargains seem to be far and few between after you add on shipping. However, the selection is huge. Stopped and looked for hours. I want (and have wanted for 14 months) a wrought iron table with a glass top. Not much to ask for but difficult to find. Pennsylvania is my last hope.

I spent two nights at a great inn in Beaufort, NC. My room had 12 foot ceilings, a porch, and a sitting area. If you ever want to do a trip like this, I highly recommend the shoulder seasons which means vacancy and therefore negotiating of room rates. Beaufort is a maritime town where Black Beard lived and has lots of intact historic houses. They’re all white and have wonderful porches on both floors ala Forrest Gump’s house in “Greenbo, Alabama!” I want a house like that.

In Beaufort, I ate expensive but great fresh fish, visited the NC Maritime Museum, window shopped, and took a “Mystery Tour” boat ride which was a rip off but nice to be on the water. While on the boat, I saw lots and lots of dolphins which were totally cool. They were too quick for the digital camera so I’ll have to wait to see if the Canon caught one. I also saw banker ponies which are probably decedents of Spanish Mustangs that broke loose from a ship wreck in the late 1700s. Because living conditions are harsh, they have shrunk to pony size. The ones I saw were so short they were hidden by the shore grass; they were about very large dog-sized. The inn reception woman said they were probably colts/newborns.

You know what? The Atlantic Coast is way more fun than the Pacific Coast. The Pacific Coast is dramatic and cold whereas the Atlantic Coast is approachable and chocked with history. Pirates – this area is riddled with Pirate history.

I realize rationally that Pirates are as romantic as the Crypts gang in a boat instead of a Chevy. They were horrible people who basically mugged and car-jacked but the cars were boats. Yet, they had great stuff—treasure chests, big swords, great hats, great personalized flags. OK, so the hats are akin to today’s do-rags and the flags were akin to today’s tattoos. So there was nothing good about pirates. Yet, I used to love dressing up like one for Halloween. Maybe I’ve changed my mind.

Today I took two ferries north to the Outer Banks. They were both great, relaxing trips (I love being on a boat of any sort) but reminded me of the time I screwed up by missing my ferry reservation from Nantucket to Mass (which was very bad b/c I had a car which meant I had to stay an extra night and pay for a friend too who’s plans I screwed up).

I’m staying in Nags Head for a couple of nights. It’s wonderful. The weather is perfect and I will spend all day tomorrow reading on the beach. Although my plan is to get some color to even out my shorts/t-shirt tan, given my dedication to SPF30, I mostly freckle as opposed to golden-tan which is either a sign of good skin care or a sign that I shouldn’t be in the sun at all.

Most of the Outer Banks are a National Seashore which means no building. However, there was a loop-hole for pre-existing fishing towns of which Nags Head is one. The houses are all HUGE stilts numbers. Although it kind of reminds me of Avalon, NJ there are no dumpy houses. They’re all huge. I’m staying in a seaside hotel (my room is street side), can you hear the waves? I can. I’m close enough to VA Beach that I am again watching the same local stations that I watched for more than a year while leaving in VA Beach working in Norfolk. Can’t wait to see the weather man tomorrow morning.

From here I head up to D.C. where I’ll visit friends then on to Philly-man-Philly to visit another friend. Top

• Local farmers’ market bribes tour guide book publisher

D.C to Philly to Jersey – Visiting Familiar Ground

It’s funny--now that I am on roads that I have driven close to a hundred times before, I’ve gotten lost several times. Well not really lost but, definitely not going in the right direction.

Both Norfolk and D.C. have circling highway “loops” that are supposed to make by-passing city traffic easier. I experienced all 360 degrees and then some of each—round and round. Oh look! There’s the naval yard, again. Wait – the naval yard?! I guess I have a false sense of familiarity which makes me less vigilant about seeking road signs. Luckily, I know the cities well enough to realize that “Welcome to Virginia” is not a sign you want to see an hour after leaving Arlington, VA heading north towards Baltimore. Also, luckily, they don’t charge a toll on the Woodrow Wilson Memorial Bridge.

Prior to hitting D.C., I drove through the “Dismal Swamp” (that’s its real name) which straddles the NC/VA border. While I was hoping for landscape in which the Swamp-thing character would live, I didn’t see any—all pretty trees lining a slow parkway. No low-hanging moss or huge willowy trees—nothing swap-like. Sometimes, I really wonder who’s paying the guide books to write about their areas? In this case, I guess the local farmers’ markets. The small road through the “swamp” is adjacent to an old canal that George Washington and others invested in building. According to the historic markers, the canal was a business failure. So even our founding father won some and lost some.

Upon arrival to Arlington, a city/county on our Nation’s Capital’s perimeters, I had the pleasure of visiting with more college friends. We went to the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum which I’ve only walked past before. My friend, Bev, treated us all to rides in flight simulators. Hanging upside down braced by over-the-shoulder padded bars, I quickly surmised how much practice it must take to fly flips and twirls while reading instruments upside down. By the way, in case any of you haven’t been to D.C., all of the national museums are free! You can spend a week in the indoor museums alone, never mind the outdoor monuments and parks.

I have tried to maintain “new eyes” while traveling through these familiar northeastern corridors, keeping my eyes open for scenes and sights that I take for granted but which may be of interest to others. No luck. I even brought my camera with me today to an Amish Farmers’ Market but there were only a few girls in traditional garb and they weren’t amenable to a photo. Got some great local produce for supper though.

Well, I’ve reached the end of the road. I am not yet in my new apt. in Hoboken, NJ; I am outside of Philly which is pretty close. My friend, Linda, has been kind enough to invite me to stay at her apt. while I try to decipher the “Secret Delivery Date” of my furniture. Less exciting than Harry Potter’s Sorcerer’s Stone, it is personally more interesting and, as of now, still a mystery to which only a New York-based dispatcher holds the answer. Having spent more than three hours Monday on the phone securing local phone service, long distance phone service, utilities, and changing credit card billing addresses, etc. I do have my new contact info. However, I am going to hold off on sending it out until I am physically there with my furniture – don’t want to jinx its impending delivery. Top

End of the Road

The past seven weeks have flown by—I can’t believe I’m back East already and, in theory, officially looking for a new job. I am sitting in my new, empty apartment hoping to hear from the movers. I made it without being chopped up too! Now that I’m here, I’m proud to say, not a single speeding ticket!

I feel that I have a much better sense of the breadth of States now. But I still have so much more to see…Montana, the Dakotas, wintertime in Utah & Colorado, summertime at Tahoe, Yosemite, Yellowstone, Alaska, and more. I bought an annual National Park Pass which I’ll try to get my money out of this summer (I’d offer it up to any of you but they’re pretty vigilant about asking for second IDs to compare to the pass).

I sometimes wished I had company with me to enjoy the scenery, share the driving, and for dinner conversation. However, it was nice to be able to do what I wanted to do without compromise. Your kind words via email made me feel like I was never alone. I hope that all of you who haven’t had the opportunity to cross country get to do so soon. It was pretty fun and gave me a lot of time to think. Top