Across the Southwest and Route 66

Hey everybody,

I've started talking to my car.  This is what happens when you're alone for a while.  There must be some part of me that wants to make sure that she's appreciated since this whole trip is relying on her, but... I sound like a manipulative boyfriend.  "I know baby... three days in a row driving 7 hours... I promise it's the last time.  I know I said that last time but this time I mean it.  Come on, tomorrow it won't be more than four hours. Oh, don't bring up the off-roading again.  I only took you off-road that ONE time!  Okay, maybe twice, but that was a long time ago!  Why do you have to keep bringing that up?  Aw now... you're leaking.   Shhh.... it's ok, it's ok.  I can call up my buddy Vince at Enterprise and rent another car, no need for you to worry.  Oh... you don't want me to do that.  That's fine, let's just put this ugly incident behind us.  I forgive you.  Oh, and I've been meaning to talk to you about your gas mileage... it's not really as good as we'd like now is it?  Maybe you could tighten it up a little bit?  Good... let's get back on the road."

My first stop in Arizona was Sedona, a small high-desert town centered in the midst of red rocks and with the most roundabouts I've ever seen in a U.S. city.  There are quite a few psychics in town which probably explains the lack of stoplights.  The town itself is what you might expect... a handful of central streets lined with all sorts of shops surrounded by beautiful views of the red rock formations encircling the town.  I'm fairly certain that, with the exception of the many kids dragged on vacation by their parents, I was the youngest person in Sedona.  It's a great place to stay, and may very well be the prettiest city in Arizona, though when you use Phoenix as your benchmark there's nowhere to go but up.

After leaving Sedona I headed north through Flagstaff and into northern Arizona on the way to Monument Valley.  This was one of my highlighted destinations.  I've always been a huge fan of westerns and was looking forward to visiting the place where John Ford filmed some of his classics.  Monument Valley is located in southeastern Utah in Navajo territory so if you're in the area you can enjoy the sounds of Undercurrents radio on NPR (Navajo Public Radio) or at http://undercurrentsradio.net.  As you drive through Navajo territory the surrounding scenery shifts from high desert browns to brick reds.  There aren't too many towns to speak of, and the ones you see consist mostly of prefab houses, shacks and one church.  Occasionally you'll see roadside stands selling beads, jewelry and artwork.

The view from Artist's Point

When I finally reached Monument Valley, all I can say is... wow.  It is even more breathtaking than I had imagined.  The rock formations are more vibrant than is possible to convey through film.  I headed straight to the park to stake out my campsite but was told that the entire site was booked by a film crew.  Luckily I was able to get a site up the road at Goulding's... where John Ford and John Wayne used to stay.  I went back to the park for the 17-mile off-road loop through the valley and all I can say is look at the pictures.  Erosion rocks (ha ha!).  Up close the peaks and buttes can be overwhelming; you almost have to look at them from a distance to properly take them in.  When I stopped at Artist's Point I got out of the car and walked down to take a picture of a lone tree with the valley in the background.  A ranger stepped out of his truck and said I could only go so far and not all the way down to the tree.  He told me that he had to sit there in his truck all day to watch the tree because it's fake... it's only there for the film.  Then on the way out of the park I got stuck behind one of the film crew's 18-wheelers who couldn't make it up the hill.  Walt Disney pictures.  When I finally got back to the visitor's center, I just sat outside for a while soaking in the view of the valley below.  That same 18-wheeler was still struggling up the hill.  I started talking to one of the locals who works there and he said that they're filming The Lone Ranger.  Not sure what to think of that, but it was the third strike on these guys.  Then I sat for about 15 minutes and watched with perverse glee as a bulldozer came up to try and tow the truck up the hill, finally succeeding.  The local (who was watching with me) looked up the road and said, "There are three more of those trucks coming up behind it."  Then he laughed.  And I laughed too.

Goulding's shows a John Ford movie every night in its theater and the night I was in town it was The Searchers.  I've seen The Searchers at least five times but I dunno... I would've felt funny watching it in Navajo territory.  The Searchers wasn't Birth of a Nation or anything but it was a little racist.  No more so than other movies of its time, but I had to wonder what the locals thought of these films.  To be fair, it's obvious that John Ford had a love for Monument Valley and it probably wouldn't be the destination it is today without his influence.  I was probably overthinking it... this is the kind of shit that goes through your mind after you've spent four years at Berkeley.  Damn hippie conditioning.  Anyhow, I skipped the movie and  ended up spending a sleepless night struggling with what I've discovered is my tent's kryptonite:  the wind.  When the flaps weren't cracking like a whip, I was getting blasted with red dust through the front mesh.  Good times.

I decided to drive to Taos the next day.  Why Taos?  I don't know... it looked good on the map.  I may have heard it mentioned in a Creedence song.  I was a bit sad leaving Monument Valley but the road was calling.  I'm actually really enjoying the driving.  I stopped at the Four Corners since it was on the way but I wouldn't recommend it.  It was cool to stand at the intersection of four states, but the monument is not much to speak of and the view is nothing special.  The best thing at Four Corners was the Navajo frybread with honey.  That shit is good.

The gas in New Mexico is only 86 octane for regular unleaded.  The larger towns in the north are full of pawn shops, smoke shops, fireworks stores and modular housing lots.  Once you get into the countryside, though, it's very green, with farms on large fields and small towns with old-school filling stations/post offices.  Taos is a cute mountain resort town with a central plaza surrounded by pueblo-style buildings.  There's the usual drill that goes on in small resort towns... lots of shops selling quaint things.  I took a drive around the "Enchanted Circle" which turned out to be a pretty mellow way to enjoy a couple of hours at 9000 feet.  It's a nice, relaxing place to stay but it's probably better if it's winter and you're into snow sports.

Santa Fe has much the same setup as Taos except on a larger scale.  You know the whole plaza/pueblo/shops combination.  There also seem to be a lot of drifters in the plaza.  One of the big draws seems to be the Georgia O'Keeffe museum, but I don't really know anything about her art.  I keep thinking that she drew a lot of vaginas but I can't be sure.  The Chuck Jones gallery was more my speed.  The Coyote and Roadrunner cartoons were formative for me in my youth and arguably my adulthood.  I know quite a few people that really like Santa Fe but I wasn't there long enough to fall in love.

Sounds like the ending to a good date

After that it was south and then east along Route 66, known nowadays as I-40.  Most of the old road was replaced by the interstate though there are small towns here and there where the historic Route 66 still exists.  The crosswinds along the interstate are brutal and I have no idea how motorcyclists can stand it.  The most interesting thing about this route is the dilapidated state of much of these old symbols of Americana... billboards, drive-in restaurants, and filling stations all in various states of decay.  I wound up at the center of this anachronism:  Tucumcari, New Mexico.  Even the hotels and diners that are still in business look like they're falling apart.  I stayed at the Palomino Inn in a room that costs $25/night.  I'll let you imagine that room in your mind and you'll probably be right.

From there it was on to Texas and more various Route 66 miscellania including a stop at the exact midway point between Chicago and Los Angeles.  This road must be some sort of rite for Harley riders because they travel in packs in both directions, helmetless, at 80 mph.  It's also become obvious that you can tell how crappy a town is going to be by how much the Motel 6 in town is charging.  Just look at the digital display... if it's $29.99 be wary.  Also, of the five non-chain motels where I've stopped at the front desk, all five have been run by Indians (from India).  I don't know why, just making an observation.  Then everyone keeps asking me if I have a pet, and when I say no they give me that look like I'm lying to them.  Also, at some point between New Mexico and Texas they stop giving you the check and instead give you the ticket.

Troy sweatin it out 20 minutes in

South of Amarillo is Palo Duro Canyon which is the second largest canyon in the U.S. after the Grand Canyon of course.  It is nowhere near as spectacular so I would rather concentrate on a true attraction in Amarillo:  The Big Texan steak house.  You see billboards for this place from hundreds of miles away along Route 66 touting a free 72 oz steak therefore it must be awesome.  Well even I was not prepared for the spectacle that is the free 72 oz steak contest.  You get the 72 oz steak for free IF you eat it in under an hour.  Not only that, but the contestant has to eat at a table on a raised platform in the middle of the restaurant (450 person capacity) with a big red timer behind his head.  Our man Troy from Utah happened to be taking the challenge this evening with his obnoxious brother yelling/jeering from a nearby table.  Troy was the bigger man but obviously more shy.  I envisioned a lifetime of verbal abuse suffered at the hands of his loudmouth brother.  Someday Troy will have his day, but it was not this day... he gave up with 16 oz left.

The bewildering production surrounding the devouring of over 4 lbs of meat reminds me of that show Man vs. Food.  The basic gist of this show is some guy going around the U.S. taking the challenge of eating the most outrageously sized dishes at various restaurants and diners.  Can you imagine some guy in Somalia tuning into satellite television and watching this gluttonous bastard spend a half hour plowing through a 6 foot sandwich or an 8 lb burrito or a stack of 15 pancakes or whatever?  This is why people hate America.

I spent the next day driving through Oklahoma, which, in case anyone was wondering, is boring as fuck.  It's more green than I expected, the OKC bombing memorial is thoughtful, and Tulsa seems like a nice town, especially along the river.  That's about the best I can do.

To be honest, after spending a couple of days on Route 66 it's a bit sad seeing this deterioration of an era of American culture.  The businesses that remain in the small towns are either dilapidated relics hanging on by a thread or a thriving handful that have managed to successfully market themselves based on a mystique that no longer exists.  I know that this road has historical significance that goes deeper than what remains, but you don't need to drive a thousand miles to understand that.  Read a book.  As anyone who's driven on an interstate freeway knows, they don't tend to leave much soul behind.

As for me, the only times I've felt really alone on this trip have been when I've had to get a room in a motel these last few nights.  When I'm camping by myself it doesn't feel lonely, in fact it's great to be able to enjoy the outdoors on your own terms.  In a motel room though I feel like I'm stuck in a box.  A hot, depressing box.  Luckily, now that I'm in Arkansas I have Aly and Jay to keep me company, or at the very least have a conversation with me that's longer than four sentences and doesn't end with "That'll be thirty-two dollars."  At least I hope.

Anyhow, here is the link to the pictures...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/W4XWqEofDHy7Biui9

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Leaving California

Hey everybody,

First off, I want to thank Jessica for giving me a road trip soundtrack that makes me feel like I'm starring in an indie film.  Every time I put on that CD I feel like I'm heading to/from a dramatic confrontation involving a girl.  We will say incredibly clever and insightful things at an unrealistically rapid-fire clip, interspersed with periods of silence that involve staring either at each other or at some kind of scenery.  A quirky friend will make a pivotal observation.  The ending will be ambiguous but hopeful.

I've had a couple of weeks to adjust to unemployment, and let me tell you that it's exactly as awesome as you feared if you can get over the anxieties.  One of the best things about it is that it gives you the luxury of time.  You can take your time with everything.  It takes a little while to get used to it because you're so conditioned to rush.  Having a job that takes up 40 or 50 or more hours of your week naturally compresses everything else that you need to squeeze into your schedule.  It takes conscious effort to stop and realize that you don't have anyplace else to be.  You have time to savor the little things, or to walk instead of drive, or to actually spend time with someone and listen to them without thinking about where you have to be next.  The downside is that you end up realizing that there are things you do or people you hang out with that you really don't give a crap about and almost wishing you had someplace else to be.

I spent my first night on the road camping in Big Sur on the coast and if you've never been there before then I strongly suggest you go.  Even if all you do is drive up and down Hwy 1 for a few hours, if you catch it on a sunny day it's spectacular.  You're driving on a windy road through a redwood forest then right up to the rocky coastline overlooking azure water... and this keeps happening over and over again.  This is not a bad thing.  I have much better Big Sur pictures from a camping trip I took with Sean and Jessica last year here (https://picasaweb.google.com/106688898407073055469/CoastCampin?authuser=0&feat=directlink).  Oh, and here's an overview of my road gear in case you're interested:


The last few days I've been bouncing back and forth staying at my buddy Felix's and then over in Manhattan Beach at my buddy Max's place.  Felix just turned 40 so there was a big party at his house, which is why I extended my stay.  That and the price was right.  The theme of Felix's birthday bash was southern/country, which is understandable because no couple I know represents antebellum more than Felix Woo and An Nguyen.  In case you're in Los Angeles and need a bale of hay, they're $9 each.  And Max... well, everybody knows Max.  Max isn't even his name, it's his description.  I still can't believe we partied with the legendary M.D.B.

I went to San Diego for a day, mostly because I wanted to go on the Stone Brewery tour and to pay a return visit to the Alesmith tasting room.  I came down to San Diego on a brew tour a couple of years ago where we visited about a dozen micro breweries in 4 days and I discovered a surprising amount of fantastic beer in this area.  I didn't get to see much of the city outside of the tasting rooms and a couple of restaurants so this time I wanted to stay in town and walk around for an evening.  I had a chance to have dinner with my buddy Tony who I hadn't seen in 7 years, which was great, then the desk guy at the hostel recommended that I walk up 5th Street through the Gaslamp district, apparently one of the main social attractions of downtown San Diego.  Now I'm no anthropologist but I found this place mesmerizing in sort of a grotesquely manufactured way.  I imagine this entire street being prefabricated somewhere and dropped whole into this neighborhood, shiny and new, with its boutique stores and restaurants whose clever, culturally ambiguous names surely involved some intensive market research.  Walking up 5th street is the consumerist equivalent of navigating the river in Heart of Darkness except at the end instead of heads on spikes you find a Hard Rock Hotel and a Spaghetti Factory.

The next day I took a drive out to Coronado, a cute, high-end beach community where gas is already $5 a gallon, then south to Imperial Beach.  The beach was lined with surfers, the pier with fishermen, and were beachfront studios are available for $800 a month.  George... think about it.  We could surf all day and live off the fish.  Just sayin'.

Yes, I spent almost a week in southern California. I have to be honest... I have long had this sort of curious fascination with southern California, especially with Los Angeles.  The warm weather, beautiful, occasionally plastic people, the sprawly concrete conquest of man over nature... it's definitely the anti-San Francisco.  I used to come down occasionally when my brother was at UCLA and ever since then I've always felt this strange anticipation in the air when I'm here, as if there's something really cool going on that I don't know about.  I'll probably have to live here at some point in my life if only to realize that there's nothing going on that's any cooler than anywhere else. I've never really told anybody that.  I don't know why I'm telling you.  Go on about your business.


Once I finally headed east my intent was to stop somewhere on the CA/AZ border but I decided to drive through the Joshua Tree National Park instead, which as you all know was named after the famous U2 album.  I don't know that anything I would say about the desert landscape and the rock formations would do it justice so maybe it's best to simply browse through the pictures.  There is definitely a clear delineation when the park transitions from the Mojave to the Colorado desert as the whole vegetation as well as the geological landscape shifts from large, tan rock and yucca to shrubs, cacti and black rock.  When I stopped at one of the rock formations called Skull Rock, I heard this woman complaining to her partner "How many more rocks do we have to stop and see?"  Though I can't sympathize in this particular case, I get it.  She reminded me about how we started feeling about cathedrals when I spent 5 days driving through central Italy with the Brits.  "Oh, what's there to see in this town?  Let me guess... a cathedral?"  We had to resort to desecrating a tomb for entertainment.  Not really.  Sort of.

The campsite where I stayed had only three other occupants and no one within a hundred yards of me.  As night fell I became engrossed by the solitude and the silence.  It wasn't lonely in any way, it was very peaceful.  There were no sounds from animals either, in fact I could hear my pen as I was scribbling across my notebook.  Also, maybe someone else could confirm this, but there must have been a lunar eclipse because the moon went from a sliver to being gone the next time I looked.  So when you take the desert sky plus a moonless night... I mean.... holy freakin' stars.  I almost had to call bullshit on nature.

So now I'm in Arizona and am camped out in Sedona, home of red rocks and "aura photos."  I'll try to get another update out sometime next week where I'll either be in Texas or Oklahoma or Arkansas.  Basically somewhere that I can wear a cowboy hat.  Anyhow, here are the pics...

https://photos.app.goo.gl/Gvzt2NTyFaAY5K6A7

Take 'er easy,
Dave

Every Day is Saturday

Hey everybody,

As Ronald Reagan once said... There you go again... by which I mean I am once again unemployed.  I'm not trying to compare myself to Jimmy Carter; if anything I consider myself the Walter Mondale of unemployment, though I would've preferred to be the Gary Hart of unemployment if you know what I mean.  The point is that I am once again free to roam the earth, fight crime, hand out vigilante justice, bring peace to the Middle East, make delicious waffles, etc.

Now what to do with all this freedom?  I remember talking to a career counselor in high school who told me to write down what I would do if I didn't have to work and whatever I answered is what I should pursue as a career.  Then I got my placement test results back and it said I should be an optometrist.  Anyhow, my issue with the counselor's proposition is mostly that it comes from a position of privilege.  If you grow up middle class in the U.S. then yeah, it's possible to simply choose whatever you want as your career, but I'm pretty sure it's a little different if you grow up somewhere like Haiti or Somalia or North Korea.  Even when you do have this freedom of choice your passions can't always translate to a career. I was talking to my buddy Felix a few weeks ago about unemployment and he said, "I told An [his wife] that if I didn't have to work I'd sit on the couch and play video games all day.  That would be awesome.  So she said 'What about Jake?' [his son]  And I said 'He could hang out on the couch with me.  It'd be great!'"

Maybe there are a lot of open positions for video game-playing nannies out there but I'm pretty sure they don't pay as well as being a corporate lawyer.  So you make a conscious compromise to practice law to pay the bills to afford you and your family the life that you want and you play games and hang out with your kids during your free time.  I think it's that way for most people, myself included.  Most of my jobs have been a compromise, a means to an end, whatever.  I had a good run at Keynote these last 4+ years working with great people and with a job that gave me the flexibility and free time to do all sorts of cool shit.  But at some point it started to wear me down.  The lucky part for me is that I'm able to be in a position where I can just... say... fuck it.  Which is fantastic, by the way.  I encourage anyone who has the opportunity to do so to quit their job with nothing else lined up.  It completely flummoxes a large percentage of the population who cannot compute how you can simply quit a job.  To be fair, the approximate breakdown is this:  60% supportive/wants to live vicariously through you, 39% flummoxed, and 1% my grandma.  When I told my grandma I was quitting, first she said she thought she might be having a stroke.  Then she looked directly at me and said, "You have mental problems."  So of course I laughed, to which she replied, "No, I'm serious.  Quitting your job.  You have mental problems.  You need to see a doctor."  Then the other day she told me that I shouldn't leave because she's 96 and she might die while I'm gone.  I said she'd better not because it would be a real inconvenience for me to have to come back home just for the funeral.

Don't get me wrong... it wasn't an easy decision.  I have a pretty sweet life that I just kind of sort of blew up.  I've had my share of sleepless, anxious nights asking myself what the fuck I'm doing and I anticipate a few more of those down the road.  If there's one thing I know about myself, though, it's that I often need a kick in the ass to make changes and sometimes it needs to be self-administered.  It felt like it was time.  I was telling my friend Gemma about some of the weird twists and turns my life has taken over the last 10 or 15 years and she said, "It sounds like the universe has always taken care of you."  I don't know if I would've thought of it in those terms but it's true that I've always been able to figure a way forward.  Whether you choose to see that as faith in yourself or your friends or in the universe... it seems to have worked so far.   Besides, I'm pretty sure I won't be lying on my deathbed lamenting the time I quit my job so I could go travel.  I think I'll be able to find another conscious compromise when I need to, or maybe if I'm lucky find something that's not much compromise at all.

My trusty steed awaits

So I'm hitting the road once again, this time in my trusty and (hopefully) reliable 1997 Honda CRV, in whose company I will be roaming around the U.S. and Canada.  I have already embarked on Project Beard where I will try not to shave for the duration of the trip which, along with Project Unemployed and Project Living Out of My Car, will comprise Operation Not Getting Laid.  I'll try to post pictures and whatnot once a week or two on this site so if you want to keep up just put your email address in that box on the right where it says "Follow By Email" and click Submit.

Take 'er easy,
Dave