I should have posted this earlier. It is my VLOG immediately upon returning to Seattle with Joe. He accompanied me from Chicago to Seattle. I recorded this at the Hamilton Viewpoint in West Seattle; my little corner of the Emerald City (the name is not related to the Wizard of Oz, it is due to the perennial green beauty of the city it never gets depressingly dead-looking like all of the South, East, Southwest, and Midwest in Winter). We actually have evergreen trees and more rain than we know what to do with. I love Seattle, the people and the place. Heck right now I'm sitting in the Bauhaus (the very best of Grunge Coffee shops, an old motorcycle repair shop) at the very core of Seattle in the Capitol Hill neighborhood. Joe and I had this picture taken in downtown Seattle's Pioneer Square as soon as we finished the 3,000+ mile full conquest of I-90 (Boston to Seattle). When I recorded this clip Seattle felt inclined to greet me with rain (of course my long lost city was so overcome with my valiant return that she needed to cry). Also in the VLOG I look pompous (I think I do), if I were you I'd chalk that up to me being punch-drunk with the joy of a distant goal reached, a goal that looked so far away and so uncertain, so as to not really be believed possible until actually seen, felt, and blogged about. One other note: BEFORE WATCHING THIS TURN UP YOUR AUDIO SO YOU CAN HEAR ME!! (Sorry when I recorded it I thought it'd be louder)
Also this is not the last post about the road trip!! I still haven't told about DC, NYC, Boston, Harvard, Maine, Chicago, or the Northern Passage. Please stay tuned.
I guess I'll post the trip stats even though this road trip is concluded. Miles: 14704.8 Gallons Burned: 484.1 Caffeinated Drinks: 88 Gigabytes of Pictures: 33.5
I also feel compelled to admit one thing before I continue, I have been reading "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac for the first time so I may exhibit a certain violence/exuberance in my writing; you all have my apologies. After catching up with my aunt and uncle and eating an amazing squash dish that kept getting better as I had it for leftovers, I slept poorly waking often to odd and unpleasant dreams. I was determined to catch a little skiing on my road trip as it had been 20 months since my last alpine adventure involving rapid descent (rather different from my long and grueling hikes up Mt. Rainier to Camp Muir at 9,550 ft). Zoom out to see just how awesome it really is:
View Larger Map Anyhow I set out back up I-26 toward the Appalachian "Mountains" (Honestly these hills are often given far too much credit. They are nice for a Sunday drive but surely do not bear the one critical element that makes a mountain a mountain, namely the tendency to create widows). I await Jen or Alicia's rebutal, you see they have done something like 1,500 miles of the long Appalachian trail and they can tell of the extreme exertion required to defeat such terrain. Check out their cool story, it's the last link in my "Websites!" section. Oh right! So I drove north but due to my lack of intel, I didn't know exactly where to go, so despite "the" stereotype I stopped and asked for directions to Sugarloaf Mountain. The oldtimer at the gas station looked at me confused. He asked if I wanted directions to skiing. I answered in the affermative, he relaxed as said why not go up to the Wolf? "It's only 15 minutes away." Excited to be so close to powder I thanked the man and left with after purchasing a sandwich for later. Much later I realized that Sugarloaf is actually the best skiing in Maine, not North Carolina. So I valiantly drove north up to the Wolf. I drove a slow road into the mountains that dead ended in a resort community, back tracking I found my error and returned to the correct path. I skidded into the parking lot of a ski rental shop my parking was as follows (Notice the precision of my diagram): The whole lot was covered in about 6 inches of snow, so I just rammed the car into the lot and let her be where she stopped. I grabbed some shorter skis (its been a little while so cut me some slack). I managed to push my Jolly Green out of the lot with only 15 minutes work. Once at the lifts, I paid for the really cheap lift tickets and hopped up the mountain on their one working chair lift. On my second lift ride I met a middle aged man on the lift who was an executive for some southeastern grocery store; then I met a pair of giggling stoners. The next ride was taken alone as were the next three rides. After getting my snow legs back, I felt like a break was called for. I pulled over here and unpacked the back pack that Uncle Steve let me borrow: I ate a fine roast beef sandwich, two Hershey bars, two wheat and cheese cracker packs, a quart of water, and some raisins all while enjoying the view. After the next run, I joined a solo skier who was in line for the lift. His name was Tristan. He came out to ski with his mom, but she didn't want to ski so this 10 year old kid was braving the slopes alone even though this was only his second time skiing. I felt a kinship with this kid; we in our own unique ways were loners experiencing the purest form of solitude: being alone in a crowd (okay second purest form of solitude, the purest being locked away in your car for 12,404 miles to wrestle with your true self, equivalent to two weeks of solitary confinement in prison). So I hung out with Tristan. He was a great kid. I would be proud of my son if he was half the young man Tristan is at the same age. He held himself well and was fearless, he took on the steepest slopes with a thirst for speed paralleled only by my own. He wanted to push the envelope on his ability on skis and he visibly improved with each run. I never had a little brother (that I grew up with), but Tristan would be awesome as a little bro. With his mother's permission here is Tristan: After I had sharpened my ski skills, I filmed a long clip of me skiing down from the top of Wolf Mountain to the bottom. It is the last clip in this little video project I made from my time on Wolf Mountain. Feel free to leave feedback(much love to the Go! Team who provided the music):
Well folks I made it back safe and mildly sound. How about I tell you all some more about my time in Tennessee and North Carolina. I drove back to Knoxville with Josh during which we tried to sing along to Muse (impossible for anyone who is not an Italian trained Castrato). Apparently Tennessee boasts the best highways in the US, but after seeing a dozen towns ending in "ville" I decided that Tennesseans are not very creative folk. Once back we joined Josh's friends and watched some pairs figure skating in the Olympics. Josh's roommates and I discussed an Ayn Rand book called the Fountainhead (a great read for those who love a good story and architecture). The whole experience of Tenn. was great made greater by the neat folks I spent time with. Josh I look forward to seeing you whenever you get back to Seattle. I headed East on February 17th hoping to get an early start in case the weather became an issue. Turns out the weather was great, but my intelligence was lacking (NO!! My mental acumen was not lacking...rather my information about interstate 40...okay my decisions on the 17th do provide ample evidence for my lack of intelligence :) ). As I headed East I noticed the lack of traffic on I-40, I didn't notice the big orange sign warning about a "DETOUR". I was too pleased to drive on such an open road to think that maybe it was empty for a reason... I came to a road block about 25 miles into the Appalachians I misread a sign and started down a dirt track. It was lightly covered in snow with only a few sparse tire tracks. The snow became more pronounced as the road's grade increased. I passed a few shacks and some free ranging chickens. Only when I lost traction on a modest uphill and started to drift backwards and rightwards into a steep ditch did the thought "hey the highway construction crews usually don't detour an interstate's traffic onto dirt roads..." I quickly flipped the wheel left and shifted into reverse, while giving the engine gas. I got traction and swung the car violently around while shifting into drive and straightening the wheel. I headed down back down the road without "ditching" the car. I want to try that trick again in less hazardous conditions (it sounds fun), so my sudden maneuver saved me a tow truck ride and another trip to the junk yard. I read the sign before entering the interstate and understood it to mean that an 80 mile detour to the North was recommended due to construction/rebuilding of I-40 (following an avalanche/landslide). I, not wanting to waste an opportunity, pulled onto the shoulder of the interstate and retrieved some of my fireworks to have some fun with the many icicles along the road. Using my tire iron and some M-200s from Alabama I blew up and shattered dozens of stalactites along the deserted interstate. After all that fun, I headed back out to I-81 and then onto I-26. Little did I know that would soon be heading back that way for some more raucous winter-tainment. I got into Asheville North Carolina at about 3:30pm and hit up Izzy's Coffee Den: They were a typical Seattle style indie coffee shop with loud music and a fascinating clientele. I blogged a little and after dark drove South out of town to my aunt and uncle's house in the surrounding country side. Next time I'll tell you all of water falls, smoky nights, and apologetics...
Miles: 12321.2 Gallons Burned: 405.6 Caffeinated Drinks: 73 Gigabytes of Pictures: 31.4 (2,355 stills and 290 Video Clips)
Hi guys. Here in Hillsdale Michigan, I am nearing the end of my journey. Soon I'll be meeting up with Joe and heading out West back to the beginning. March 13th is the tentative return date (weather permitting). For me, this trip shares much in common with some of the best stories ever told: the Matrix, Fight Club, Memento (to name some movies), the Dark Tower Cycle, and the Bible itself. What is it exactly that the trip shares with these? Think of the movies and books; they all end where they began (the mode of story being Beginning Middle Beginning). They, as well as my road trip, end where they start. The last link in my road trip's story will be Interstate 90. It is 3,086 miles long (Google maps disagrees with Wikipedia's claim of 3,099.07 miles). Here is a Video Blog from Boston regarding my thoughts just before I embarked on the first mile of I-90:
As a note to my obsession, I added an extra 3 hours onto my drive time just to divert from Jefferson Maine to East Boston, so I could start from the true beginning of this masterful road.
I'm in Damariscotta Maine, sitting in the town bookstore/cafe. Unfortunately, the Espresso machine is down, so no Latte... I went with an iced Latte even though it is about 39 degrees outside (about 20 degrees warmer than Maine's average for this time of year). The sun is out and hopefully my appointment for an oil change will work out. The coffee shop is different from the average Seattle coffee shop. They are playing Franz Ferdinand and there are laptops so that matches, but the colors are all happy, and the people are here to be social and enjoy each others' company. Weird! No people gathering together in public so they can collectively ignore each other...yep Seattle is really like that. Another place like unlike Seattle is Tennessee. I headed north out of Georgia toward the Volunteer State (called that because they sent the most volunteers to Texas to fight the Mexicans in the 1840s), and crossed over at about 3:30pm. I went to Josh's apartment. Josh is a neat cat. He is the mycologist I mentioned earlier who relocated to Knoxville to go to grad school. He is a child genius who finished undergrad at 20 and will soon turn 21 while in grad school! Dang I'm such a slacker. I graduated from undergrad at 20 also, but I didn't start grad school until after I turned 21!! ARGH! Josh beat me...LOL he's awesome like that. So he and his two room mates were kind enough to let me sleep on their couch for 3 nights while I watched the Olympics with them and experienced the Tennessee way of life. Here is Josh...and Josh: Yep, I'm short. We took a little road trip to Nashville to see the Gaylord Opryland Resort and Convention Center. So...I don't like country music (Except for the song about the Devil and Georgia with fiddling and the song where the Lady smashes and scrapes her cheating boyfriend's truck, thanks Sam Bo for forcing me to listen to a lot of country just to show me that there are only 2 good songs). So why would I have liked the "Opryland Hotel"? Well why don't you just look and see: And some videos:
Josh kept up the suspense all the way there forcing me to imagine 20ft tall cheese sculptures of Dolly Parton and Elvis Presley. I was so wrong. They had 3 indoor tropical/subtropical forests. Outside it was 20 degrees, but inside of the glass domes were it was 75. Just seeing this wonder was worth the drive. But that's not all we saw. Next stop was the Parthenon. Ok I'm a nerd, so now you all get an aside: The Greeks were clever folks back in 800-400BC relative to other folks in North Africa, Mesop, and Southern Europe (would say world but I don't know much about what American natives/Chinese folks were up to at this time). The Acropolis (a stony hill) was the place of prominence and pre-eminence in Athens. Since the city was named after the goddess who lent her shield and spear to defend it, they built the best building in the best place to honor her. Inside sat a tall gold statue of Athena. But there is a little trick the architect used to make the temple look balanced. He set the eight front and back pillars in such a way so that to the human eye they would appear evenly spaced...only one thing they are not evenly spaced. The outer pillars are farther apart than the inner pillars (by several feet!). End Aside. In Nashville in 1897 some eccentric folks built this: It was the centerpiece of the city's centennial celebration. The temporary building was an instant favorite of the city and has remained there ever since. To end the post how about a quiz? Can you name the Greek gods and goddesses on the Parthenon's Front Frieze?
Answer (front left to right): Poseidon, Aphrodite, Hephaestus, Zeus, ????, Ares, ????, ????, Hera, and Hermes. Thank you Hillsdale for a fine Greco-Roman Education.
Ok let me explain how I ended the last post. I didn't mean to demean Mars Hill Church. I love Mars. First of all the unofficial motto/statement of purpose "It's all about Jesus", obviously the amazing people, the individually missional character of the church, the "from the gut" declaration of the Word, the indie feel, the black (I love black), the...You get the point. Despite the "cultish" name (Mars Hill sounds a little creepy) it is a great example of biblical church (please know that I respect your at home approach Dave). So when I said: "a church that made Mars Hill look like a preschool" what I was trying to get across was the size, not the composition/organization/maturity/etc. Buck Head Church is crazy big. One of their 3 campuses (the baby campus) does Mars Hill in 3 services (10,000 people). Oh yeah, you might need context for the last 6 sentences. I stayed the night after St. Augustine south of Jacksonville at a rest stop off Interstate 10. And crossed into Georgia early on February 14th (yeah I'm more than 2 weeks behind on my blogging). After a little PT, I spoke to Tony (a big gangsta-looking dude at that rest stop) who told me that he and his girlfriend left San Antonio in search of a little fun on a road trip. They were low and cash, and he said they would head up to Detroit to find a job. This little event stands out to me because all I could think to do was sympathize with him. I didn't know what to say. He was in a tight spot, and I couldn't really help him. Anyway, I drove north toward Atlanta and made it into town just in time to be late to meet Eric at a Starbucks. After saying "hi" and shaking hands I followed him all the way through a huge parking garage and into an overflow lot. I didn't even know the name of the church. I just knew from Yuskie, a solid guy who recently moved to Seattle from Atlanta and volunteers at Mars, to meet up with Eric. So I'm in a foreign city following a guy I've never met to a place I've never heard of...great plan? Yes, it was. I was led by Eric to this building:
It looks like a nondescript office building but it actually is a custom built church. We quickly passed through a lobby reminding me of a dozen convention centers. And I walked down to the second row stage right. Thanks to both of you Yuskie and Eric. After a great message about Jesus, I called Eric and got directions to the "Fusion". Again I was in the dark with respect to the nature of where and to what I was going. Apparently they are church-wide alcohol-free safe-zones where professional singles from all life stages come to mingle and meet each other. So I of course bring a bottle of Washington wine. Yep. The south is a little different, especially about alcohol. I chatted and ate Oreos until the Fusion ended. Then Eric, a fusion coach, kindly let me stay at his place. We chatted and enjoyed each others company. He told me about the World of Coca-Cola, so the next day I went. I expected a corporate center similar to Microsoft's lame little visitor center (never go, it really is terrible, they put no effort into it). I was totally wrong. The experience was closer to a specially visit to Willy-Wonka's Chocolate Factory. Here are some videos and stills of the magic at Coke. The first Coke dispenser for the space shuttle: All the recent Olympic Torches: The Atrium:
The Tasting Room:
The best part was the tasting room where you can taste all the Coke products. Each stand serves products from Asia, North and South America, Europe, and Africa. You go around with a tasting cup and can try all of it. I discovered Europe has the Worst drinks. The absolute worst! South America had the best and the other continents were about the same. Of course being in an urban center I had to eat Pho (pronounced "Fa"). I enjoyed my time in Georgia and I'd love to go back and visit or even live. Next time I'll tell you about Tennessee...and the other Josh B.
Story? What is my story? I am looking for answer to that question. I know I fit into the Lord's plan but how?
I am like that Childe Roland of old wandering to the end of his road, to that dark tower, expecting to see Him in that glorious city.
