Day Thirty

Well the ferry ride took me to the mainland and onward I went through the Carolinas. I drove until about midnight yesterday and missed all opportunities to camp and then drove through a huge lightning storm. After the world settled down and the caffeine wore off, I came to the conclusion that I would get to Charleston, SC, find the nicest neighborhood and dive into the back of my truck to sleep under the lid. I set an alarm for five hours later and was out before anyone knew I was there. I popped my head up at one point and saw a deer, but he/she/it was the only witness of my presence in Charleston. I might do that truck bed camping thing again, it’s cheap and I feel like I am in a secret hide out, a really sweaty secret hideout full of stuff with a ceiling 2 inches above your face.

This morning I drove to Savannah and gave myself a tour guided by myself. To my dissatisfaction, I was not the tour guide I had anticipated myself to be as I knew nothing about the town, so I left Savannah and filed a formal complaint with the department of tourism. My other complaint this morning was with a “How’s My Driving” hotline because a trucker was hugging my bumper like he had never seen one before and then he passed me on the left in the third lane. The lady on the phone didn’t have a record of his truck number so like all other things I cannot explain on this trip, I will leave it at Zombies. But other than that, Georgia was cool.



An enthusiastic Georgian selling peaches at 6am at a Chevron. I would be reading a book too. Any thoughts on what the title was?

Day Twenty-Nine

I woke up at about 6am. I slept under the stars by the beach sand dunes and had one of my better nights rest. Last night, there were some lightning storms in the distance which made the experience pretty fun, and the sea breeze made the temperature and bugs bearable.

As promised John and Kelly came and got me and the three of us went out to Gritz Grill where my breakfast consisted of sweet tea, biscuits & gravy, and grits. I was told that was the most Southern thing they had on the menu. So one stomachache later, I went to my car that decided not to start and with a few whacks here and there I get it running. A North Carolinian approached me and said, “You bruck dun?” I responded with, “Nope. All fixed.” Which then he opened his toothless mouth and from about 6 inches past my personal level of comfort yelled, “Well then Carry On!” You definitely had to be there but I got a lot of personal joy from that interchange, and it’s my blog anyway.

Eventually I hit the road and jumped on a ferry to the next island, Ocracoke. I had an hour wait so I went to a beach restaurant and ordered a fried fish sandwich that apparently comes with one side still covered in scales. So one more stomachache later, I jumped on the second ferry on which I am writing from now and I don’t really know where it is taking me.


John and Kelly riding off into the redneck sunset on their bike.


Some surfers from Virginia I hung out with.


My truck was the last vehicle on the ferry which was pretty cool because I had a seat right on the front of the ship. I offered the people around me a seat but their decline might have been more of a personal hygiene issue.

Day Twenty-Eight

I drove to North Carolina which rivals North Dakota for "the most miserable drive yet" award. The temperature was about 100 degrees with probably the same in humidity, and I finally hit really ugly traffic. However, being as dangerous as I am on my GPS, I skillfully rerouted into what I believe was “Hill Billy Mecca,” where tractors were a kinder change of pace. The South is gloriously awesome. Needless to say, I have begun counting Confederate flags.

I drove through Kitty Hawk and am working my way south through the Outer Banks off the coast of North Carolina. I stopped on the first island where I grabbed a camp site, didn’t set up a thing, and ran and jumped into the Atlantic. This was an amazing feeling and the accomplishment of the last four weeks hit me hard. So I threw my hands in the air, let out some man-yells, and did some body surfing at sunset. On my walk back to my site I met John and his wife Kelly. John is the most incredible redneck I’ve met, and his wife Kelly is being converted to his ways, as she is a native Yankee and John's redneckedness is far too overwhelming for her to have any chance at all. John is about 6 foot 5 with one of the gruffest man voices I have ever been jealous of, so naturally I hung out with these two for about three hours. He told stories of his friends “BobCat” “Hound Dog” and “Dan Boone” and they all had something to do with drinking, farming, hunting bears, or heavy machinery. John is a 3rd generation farmer on the same land and has never been past Kansas, he says he has friends that have never left the county they grew up in, nor do they have electricity or running water. His stories often were littered with “reckon so” and “He dun shot his nephew” and some really creative swearing. I laughed and laughed and tomorrow morning the three of us will go into town for what he promises is a real Southern breakfast. He also wants me to make sure I don’t leave town without a Confederate flag. I can’t even begin to retell his stories, some because of the language barrier, and others because I laughed so hard I missed most of important information.

John and Kelly have an open invitation to the West coast.


Here was my view of the Atlantic. Odd that the sun sets over the land.


This is the South.


Just some pretty beach with houses in Kitty Hawk.



Here is Dismal Swamp, North Carolina. In another section of the swamp there was a Confederate flag posted in the middle but I was driving and couldn't get out my camera fast enough.

Day Twenty-Seven

Thursday I drove up to Annapolis to meet my high school buddy Justin North who is a marine studying at the Naval Academy. He showed me around campus and introduced me to his friends and we even went and watched Midshipmen football practice. Practice and visiting the athletic facilities was quite the thrill as I was recruited by the Naval Academy to play football, but did not have the SAT scores, nor the desire to have the next ten years of my life booked solid. The current head coach was the guy that pulled me out of class in high school to talk Navy in ’03, an assistant coach at the time. I reintroduced myself and he remembered his visit to Arcadia. It was pretty neat to hang out in the locker room and Justin seemed to know a lot of the players.

After a dinner of hot wings at Chili’s with Justin and some good catching up, I headed back to my campsite about 60 miles South. I found my tent to be nearly 95 degrees and the lack of airflow made it quite the sweaty experience. I slept on top of my bag in my new and very short Marine issue PT shorts (thank you Chris and Jens). The night was full of interesting sounds so I slept with my running shoes and headlamp on, with my knife in hand. I couldn’t think of any harmless animals that made sounds like what I was hearing, so I decided that if one wanted to nuzzle with me I was going to run.


Me and Justin at Chili's


Navy Midshipmen locker room.


Navy practice.

Day Twenty-Six

Wednesday morning I awoke in a field about a football field in length and width and it was all to myself. The night before I rolled into my campsite in moonlight and firefly fits, and it was a little difficult to see just how big my plot was. With unknown size came unknown sounds, the groans of what at the time I decided were swamp zombies and freight trains. To my dismay I was correct about the trains, and armed with knife and flashlight I discovered the other terrible sounds were coming from hundreds of gigantic toads in the neighboring swamp.

The heat woke me up in the morning and so I left the outskirts of Cleveland and headed to Virginia. Today I passed through Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Maryland, and now I am in a tent just a few miles north of Quantico, VA where I visited my two friends Chris deVries and Jens Gilbertson at their marine base.

The visit to the base was a great experience and I was able to get a more clear understanding of what Marine officer candidacy is all about, and what my two friends went through in their past two summers on the base. I have all the respect in the world for these two-second lieutenants. In all of today’s circumstances, why would two college educated young men choose to become officers in the Marines? My conclusion is that at this time, I don’t believe they would be satisfied doing anything else. They are tested and challenged to push their thresholds and understanding of personal possibility further everyday. It is difficult to articulate all of the feelings from today’s conversation, I am just very impressed. Not by the physical or mental challenges, but the whole ideal of that military branch and the reasons why my friends joined. I am jealous, in awe, and inspired. Thanks guys for making the time! I am waiting on Chris to email me some photos from our hangout.

But in the meantime, below is a video I prepared during my eight hours driving today. A month in your car will lead you to do funny things with your time. Some people in the car next to me enjoyed my rendition of "I want to know what love is" by Foreigner, but you only get the "Final Countdown" by Europe.

Day Twenty-Five

I also hate Indiana and Ohio toll roads. 1) Because they are there. 2) Because they cost more and it is completely arbitrary. 3) And because by the time I did an entire cost benefit analysis in my head of the toll vs. going out of my way to take another highway, I was already at another toll and had to pay again.

In other news Indiana had a lot to offer today. I visited Notre Dame home of Rudy, heartthrob Brady Quinn, and touchdown Jesus (below). It was a very cool campus and had that "I'm a really old campus feel." To kill some time before the College Football Hall of Fame opened, I visited a small used bookstore and asked the owner if he had any recommendations, he replied with "I don't read," which I thought was a very odd response for a used book store owner. So I left, read my own book, and then fell asleep in a park. The Hall of Fame was awesome and for the first time I really missed playing football. There was this awesome tri-screen film of just wicked hits and huge plays which really got the hair on my arms standing straight up. I eventually found Frosty Westering's (retired PLU football coach) plaque/bust thing and we took a photo together. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 2005.


Touchdown Jesus at Notre Dame.


Pat Tillman: American Hero (If you don't know his story) Pat Tillman


The evolution of football equipment. The red bandannas were to distinguish teams, not for protection. At one point college football was almost banned by Roosevelt because of some 19 fatalities or something. Possibly bandanna related?


Here is me and and my football coach Frosty. He was inducted into the College Football Hall of Fame in 2005. The guy who took my picture was very impressed that I knew an inductee.


Here is Frosty's close-up. He looks better in person.

Day Twenty-Four

Chicago has a gorgeous downtown. On Monday I spent most of the day on a Lake Michigan beach where I turned into a lobster and read a good portion of a book called The Shack, a parting gift from my best friend at PLU and his wife. I walked most of downtown and then the beach boardwalk until I found a perfect little nest between hundreds of people all out of their Midwest winter hibernation. It is an interesting crowd on Mondays down on that beach. I even learned a few words that I can't type on this blog because my mother and her friends read on a regular basis.

So in my best efforts to save some money while staying downtown with my buddy Nate, I decided to park my truck in a suburb and then ride the metro into town. He told me parking downtown was some astronomical rate. So I return to my truck three days later to find a parking ticket for $60. Sweetness. If you've never seen a Chicago parking ticket, you can check mine out below.

PS: I hate Chicago toll roads. I don't think one should have to stop every 8 miles to pay 40 cents. So in an act of civil disobedience I started blowing through them. We'll see what happens.


Here is downtown Chicago from Navy Pier


Here is Kelly in front of downtown Chicago from Navy Pier



Here is some sweet guy that works facilities on Navy Pier that doesn't want you to bother him for an autograph.



Here is my first parking ticket ever.

Day Twenty-Three

Sunday consisted of walking around Chicago with my buddy Nate from LA who is in town on business. Having a friend who travels as much as he does is a real blessing to the vagabond, especially when it means a free night at a sweet hotel in downtown Chicago. We saw the beach on Lake Michigan and laughed at the waves and the million people all packed in the mile stretch of beach in Chicago. I think the ratio of people to grains of sand was 1:1. After traveling a bit we took a break and napped, followed by a Chipotle run where we met Horace. Horace is a homeless man with a degree in political science from Depaul University (he showed me his alumni card) who kept telling us that the white man is going down. So naturally we bought him a beer and hung out for a while. We talked politics, family matters, and more about the white man going down and Nate was even kind enough to let Horace borrow his cell phone so he could make a few calls. After we said our goodbyes Nate got about four calls from whomever Horace was calling and we couldn't understand any of what she said, but I hope she keeps calling Nate cause I think it's hilarious.

I forgot my camera when I was walking around today, so no new photos.

Day Twenty-Two

Saturday consisted of playing a round of golf in the morning, driving, eating a gigantic Hardee's Monster Thickburger, driving and some more driving. I have included a photo of the burger I ate at Hardee's. I actually wrote a paper in a sociology class my senior year defending Hardee's and their ridiculous sized burger. In my personal book of morals, no burger no matter what size, can ever be claimed as damaging to society. So eating this monster was of particular interest and really helped justify my views.

Here is some riveting reading if your interested. Totally got an A. Hardee's Monster Thickburger Paper

Day Twenty-One

Today started at 6:15am to say goodbye to Andrew and Stephanie and to get my bike onto a trail that led to the Mississippi river, 40 miles round trip from Cannon Falls through Minnesota country. So I rode, and rode, and rode to Red Wing, MN which is basically Wisconsin. On my way over I stopped six times. One time because there was a deer and it's fawn in the path staring at me like a deer in bike reflector, one time because a wild turkey was on the path, one time because I saw two eagles being chased by birds smaller than pigeons and that came off as peculiar. And the other three times I stopped because I was choking on bugs. Once I arrived in Red Wing I parked on a park bench and finished the book Brave New World about a dsytopian future. It was a fascinating read and really was something fun to wrap my mind around as I sat on the river. The book is based on a bleak future of world order by intense social control where feeling and free thinking is totally abolished through caste systems, extreme behavioral conditioning, and just some really crazy stuff that turns people happy all the time, but totally mindless. Society is at peace, there are no diseases, life's pleasures are at a whim.. but at the cost of free will and being numb to life. The optimism of the whole thing is that there are a few who are able to question the system. They realize that in it is not just the happiness and pleasures in life that give us the human experience. It is the pain, the sufferings, the challenges that we encounter in life that make happiness genuine only through the reference points of feeling life's downturns. We have the opportunity to live mindlessly through life's distractions and work through the system, or we can choose to really feel life.

"And that is the secret of happiness and virtue- liking what you got to do. All conditioning aims at that. Making people like their inescapable social destiny." - The Director, Brave New World

Day Twenty

Thursday morning I packed up my belongings and left the Nesvig's home. The night's rest helped me recover from my crushing Farkel blow the evening before.

I drove into St. Paul and left my truck in a park to explore the city on bike. I know this sounds a lot like yesterday's post, but rather in the other twin city. However, I assure you that yes it was pretty much exactly the same, except for the fact that I had a Chipotle burrito for lunch making the day totally different.

After reading on the river for a while and conversing with some new friends, I packed up and headed down to Cannon Falls to stay with Andrew Holloway and his wife Stephanie. Andrew and I played football together at PLU, Stephanie didn't quite make the team. It was much fun to hang out and laugh at stupid things and eat good food. Some of the simple joys of my visit came from the stories these two west coasters had about their adjustment to Midwest life. Tatertot hot dish anyone? And from dubunking Waterworld. Here's our criteria: 1) You'd think that if it took hundreds (thousands?) of years for the earth to turn into an ocean, in that time wouldn't all the inhabitants of Waterworld lose their southern accents. 2) If the Earth is all water, why is everybody so dirty all the time? I'm sure the conversation is open to suggestions and theories.


St. Paul from that park I left my truck at.

Day Nineteen

I dropped off my truck in downtown Minneapolis for the day and pulled out my bike to explore more on wheel. I rode around for about three hours within the city and gave myself a pretty good little tour including downtown, the University of Minnesota, the bridge that collapsed a year ago, the Metrodome, Starbucks, and a Barnes & Noble. Later in the day I left downtown and went to the Nesvig residence where I spent the evening with Kirk and Mary, and their kids John and Ben. Kirk and Mary went to PLU with my parents and offered a warm bed and some warm meals for my travels through the twin cities. Upon my arrival, I found a box from Lauralee full of her world famous, and now web famous, monster cookies. She somehow managed to get the cookies to arrive on my one night stay at the Nesvigs, a very narrow window. That's like hitting reentry on an Apollo mission. Many thanks Lauralee- Kirk and Mary would like the recipe. Post cookies, we ate dinner on the deck overlooking the golf course and played a riveting game called Farkel, a combination of Yahtzee and Russian Roulette if you were to ask Ben. Myself being the rookie, only took second to last thanks to his selflessness. The Nesvigs will send me off tomorrow with some worthy reading to think about and pocket Farkel to ensure that I make friends along the way and spread the Farkel magic.


Midwest Mountaineering is an oxymoron.


Downtown Minneapolis, MN


Here is the wreckage from the bridge collapse in Minneapolis on August 1, 2007. Just up the river they are rebuilding. You can see the cranes.


Some downtown Minneapolis bike riding.

Day Eighteen

I left the Anderson lake cabin on Bad Medicine Lake around three in the afternoon after some morning water skiing. Maren and I completed the dangerous "high-five maneuver" which was captured via the magic of digital video below.

I made my way down to Rogers, MN where I met up with my old PLU teammate Max. We hung out and then ran over to Maynard's for dinner and beverages to watch the Lakers get pounded. 131-92?!?! C'mon that's not even respectable. Tomorrow morning I will head down to Minneapolis to tour the town and to meet up with the Nesvig Family.

Day Seventeen

Today started with almost everything going wrong. Boat battery was dead, weed whacker busted, lost internet, fridge shut off, lost all electricity at the house. So we ran into town and got almost everything fixed which provided ample opportunity for a tour of Park Rapids, MN. I've never seen a gas station/bar. But the weed whacker will be another day's battle. Sorry Loren... I guess "universal head" applies to every other weed whacker in the universe, I guess I picked a dud.

The day was full of water sports with the Andersons. I went water skiing today for the first time and totally got up! Naturally I advanced to slalom skiing which was basically me getting dragged behind the boat underwater... so naturally I advanced to hypothermia. Thanks for the tea, thermal socks, and crocs. Again I can feel my feet:) We then took out the mini catamaran for an afternoon sail. It was a cruise of fun questions, trying and succeeding at steering the sailboat with my first mate Maren, and MaryAnn falling asleep... I just thought she was a good listener. Dinner was fantastic, and full of bbq chicken we attempted doubles skiing and were quite successful. Anderson ski school is still at 100% success rate!

Thank you Andersons for a wonderful wonderful wonderful time in the Midwest. It was fantastic spending time with your family and I am glad we all got to know each other better.

Day Sixteen

This morning I woke up to a beautiful Bad Medicine Lake, the "Best Lake to Swim in Minnesota" by Minnesota Monthly. I've only seen clearer water in Hawaii. Here's more about it from the article. The article would not be complete without Don's quote at the the end.

Bad Medicine Lake lacks nutrients. That may be bad for certain types of critters, but it’s good for you, since it means the lake, southwest of Itasca State Park, is extraordinarily clear; instead of phosphorous-and-nitrogen-rich runoff, it’s fed by cool, clean ground water. Indeed, its transparency is more than 30 feet deep in spots—greater than one-third its maximum depth. And while Bad Medicine is famous as a rainbow trout fishery, the lake is also a great spot for swimmers and scuba divers, says Don Tschudi, who has owned the Bad Medicine Lake Resort & Campgrounds for nearly 50 years. “You don’t have to worry about that swimmer’s itch,” he says.

Today we celebrated another 50th wedding anniversary with some other friends down the lake, MaryAnn and Loren's own wedding anniversary, and on top of that Father's day. Maren and myself then stole away and did a 15 mile or so bike ride at Itasca State Park, home of the Mississippi River headwaters. With my elementary school Oregon Trail tendencies, I had to ford the great Mississippi. I only lost one wagon wheel, 200 pounds of buffalo meat, and little Timmy died of dysentery. However the crossing was a great success and my backpack remained dry.

Day Fifteen

I don't know I keep running into such good fortune, but everyday thus far has been blogworthy.

I awoke at the crack of dawn this morning around 8:15am for a lesson on the Anderson farm in Rugby, ND. I rode along in the tractor, learned about combines, and really got a solid overview on farming. The amount of technology involved in operations these days is surprising; autopilot, gps, & air seeders. It really was fascinating for this city boy to see how middle America "tills the land," and I actually learned what that phrase meant.

On the drive to the Anderson's cabin in Minnesota we made a stop at Fort Totten, the proclaimed best preserved military post of the Dakota frontier era. I am not entirely sure how prestigious that title is, but nonetheless it was neat to see. Brevet Major General Joseph Gilbert Totten was the chief engineer in the U.S. Army at the time of it's completion and thus the fort was named in his honor. In the honor of my arrival at Fort Totten I paid full admission even though I am the closest living direct descendant of dear Major General Joseph, which the lady in the gift shop wasn't having at all. As well she shouldn't because I totally made that up.

Now being from Los Angeles, I grew up understanding that the emergency broadcast system on the radio was a big crack up. You hear the terrible beeping sound, the lady says "this is a test" and you go along your way happy because you'll never recover the lost 45 seconds of Ryan Seacrest in the morning. Driving through North Dakota and Minnesota today changed that for me. I heard eleven severe weather warnings including golf ball sized hail, severe thunderstorms, and tornadoes. Luckily by the time I encountered the hail and thunderstorms I was already at the lake house, and the funnel clouds never touched ground.

We were standing on the dock at Bad Medicine Lake in Minnesota when this huge cloud system came out of nowhere and took the sky. It was one of the funkiest things I have ever seen, and I have seen some funk in my short life. The black clouds rushed over the lake at immense speed and totally filled the sky, and the stillness was suddenly filled with winds that grew to a reported 65 miles per hour. I mean the entire scene changed in about six minutes. But on the water, this eerie white wispy fog took flight toward us at an extremely quick pace. Recognizing this as being bad, MaryAnn said "It's time to get inside." And immediately God let loose and we ran inside where we watched the storm pass.

Day Fourteen

Tonight I write from the geographic center of North America... Rugby, North Dakota. Other notable features include the Prairie Village Museum, Frank's German Restaurant, and a supper club called The Eagles. I am staying with the Anderson family, some dear friends I made during my time at PLU and very gracious hosts.

This morning started with coffee and oatmeal at a local diner and then to a museum tour with my friend Maren, one of those gracious Andersons I told you about. After a riveting time at the museum we drove to downtown where we walked around a bit and eventually made it to Frank's German Restaurant. At Frank's we ordered donor kabobs and enjoyed the company of other Rugbians. The restaurant is small enough that all customers join into a collective conversation- a really cool perk of a small town, even Frank was having fun with us. Maren then took me to some local farmland where I thought it would be fun to do a photoshoot with all my best cowboy gear (see pictures below). Later we met up with Maren's parents Loren and MaryAnn and we proceeded to a 50th wedding anniversary at The Eagles supper club for a much loved couple who are icons in the Rugby farming community.

Rugby is a very small town and it felt as if the entire community was in attendance at the anniversary party, I kept seeing people from passing in town earlier in the day. A sideshow played. There was an attempt to capture the lives of two and all they loved and accomplished in 50 years in a 20 minute presentation. Not a critique on the quality of the sideshow, it was well done, but more an observation on life. A video just can't do the justice that the experiences and memories sitting in those chairs do, but it sure is neat to see old photographs of newly weds and new photographs of old people still in love. To see photos of a family so enriched by each other, and sons and daughter honoring their parents by putting on such an event, really put the Midwest into perspective for me. Being a pure outsider from the west coast observing this all has definitely provided a unique experience that is hard to articulate other than life's really about family and the community out here.

Day Thirteen

I am currently in Bismarck, North Dakota stealing internet at a Holiday Inn. Apparently coffee shops in Bismark close at 6pm. Also making blogging more difficult is that half the state is in the mountain timezone, and the other side of the state is in the central timezone. Not knowing this I arrived at a coffee shop at what I thought was 4:45pm, it was actually 5:45pm, and they were closing at 6:00pm. After five years in Tacoma, I think all coffee shops should be 24/7 and espresso machines come with routers. Also making blogging somehow even more difficult was that the kid working the front desk had never heard of WiFi. I immediately turned into the Hulk and smashed his kiosk.

The weather was fun today. I have included a small video below about how I felt today during my nine hours of driving in sideways rain. I didn't lock the lid on my truck today and the sideways wind actually blew the lid wide open. I didn't even know that was possible. Luckily none of my stuff blew out the back. I also went to Devil's Tower today. I did my best to keep my eyes open but couldn't pull it off, even after three attempts. Thanks for trying guy from Ohio. On my drive to Minot, ND I came across the Totten Trail. I'm not exactly sure what it was but it had a fancy sign.

Day Twelve

Today was a very powerful day, fueled by a Country Kitchen breakfast of Biscuits and Gravy with BJ.

I left Nebraska and headed to the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation to check out Wounded Knee, SD. As soon as I got onto the reservation it was like entering a third world country, not even exaggerating. I drove the fifteen miles to Wounded Knee and checked out the visitor’s center. The visitor’s center is a 30-foot circular building created by a guy on the reservation who wanted the truth told, basically there are a few people who live on the reservation who hang out there and tell stories about the culture. Inside is a collection of artifacts and photos from the massacre in 1890 and occupation in 1973. Little back-story for my interest… I took a Native American spirituality class at PLU and we studied the Lakota nation. The class read an autobiography by Mary Crowdog called Lakota Woman, she was a player in the Wounded Knee occupation in 1973. She gave birth to her son during the 71-day skirmish- a very good read.

Anyway, at the visitor center I met Olaha, a mother of three at 27 and finishing up a BA in Lakota Studies at Oglala Lakota College. Olaha’s parents were involved in the occupation at Wounded Knee in ‘73 and she was born just seven months after. We talked for about an hour about the occupation and life on the reservation. She described the reservation as lawless, full of drunks, high theft and arson, unsolved murders, and gang and family violence… but that was five years ago. Today Pine Ridge is cleaning up its act from the inside, and a lot of credit can go to Olaha’s family. They have worked to create safe havens for the children and bringing back the Lakota tradition that alcohol, drugs, tourism, greed, and lack of family values has distorted. Olaha practices many of the Lakota ceremonies I learned about in my class, her daughter recently received her Lakota name in one of the ceremonies. Her family also organizes traditional rides on holy trails that last up to five days with 200+ riders. She was extremely proud of her heritage, as she should be, and is very optimistic that the future Lakota generations will carry the tradition. Olaha believes the Lakota will become a strong united nation again now that the government is less oppressive to their way of life and the youth understand again what it means to be native. A great conversation.

I also drove through Badlands National Park and went to Mt. Rushmore today.

Day Eleven

Well there is a first time for everything. Today was very full so I’ll give you the bullet points.

• An overnight snowstorm nearly caved in my tent. I woke up with the side of the tent nearest my head, on my head.
• Yellowstone closed the East exit due to weather conditions so I got redirected south, ultimately sending my day to Nebraska. (Not exactly on the itinerary).
• Crossed the Rocky Mountains in 2-wheel drive without chains during a snowstorm.
• Drove all throughout Wyoming, a state that can blow wind in all four directions simultaneously. Even the tumbleweeds were confused.
• Then I met BJ.

BJ is a 31 year old teacher from Boston also on a cross-country adventure. He started in San Francisco and is headed to Boston, however BJ is walking. We met when I pulled off the highway out of curiosity. He wears a giant sign on his backpack with his website. BJ's Blog We chatted for a few minutes and then he revealed the reason for his walk. He is planning on hand delivering a notebook of personal messages to the next president of the United States of America, from America. I will make the point here that BJ is not a crazy person. He cares about his country, politics, and is brave enough to make a statement, an extremely physically demanding one at that. He left San Francisco on March 1 and hopes to arrive in Boston in November, he admits he is a little behind schedule. Anyways, he gave me his card and I drove away but I then realized he had given me another person’s card by mistake. I turned around and returned what was his and we then talked about the looming clouds and came to the conclusion that we could split a cheap motel room and sleep in comfortable beds, not outside in the rain. So we got a cheap motel room (stop worrying reader) and went to dinner at some local dive he remembered from a previous Americorps assignment. BJ is a totally sweet dude and I am glad our paths crossed. I asked him how he keeps walking everyday. He said because he started something he has to finish it, and it helps that he keeps meeting encouraging people. He has now been walking for over three months and it’s just what he does, he can’t think of doing anything else. Finding inspiration like this is why I am on the road. Hopefully he’ll get into politics. This was a successful pick up of a hitchhiker, and was an actual objective for this trip. I seriously doubt everyone walking on the road is this cool, so I’ll quit while I’m ahead so my mom won’t worry☺

Day Ten

Remember that book I told you about yesterday? Finished it in one sitting. I recommend it for anyone camping, on vacation, or out in the wilderness. Montana 1948. Thanks Jan!

I got up at six this morning and moved my campsite to the other side of the park. Skies were clear and I drove to the grand canyon of Yellowstone where I hiked for roughly seven miles and the canyon’s brim. Hiking alone in Yellowstone is a trip. I have never been so cautious about reading tracks and droppings, checking the skies, and checking the contents of my bag. The simple fact that around any corner can be some hungry beast is a bit intimidating. A small bird snapping a branch would halt my progress. In Yellowstone I have a very healthy almost paranoid respect for mans fragility and nature’s power. On my drive back from the canyon the weather started to turn but I had to stop for a grizzly bear sighting. The thing was enormous, my pictures didn’t really pan out because my lens was totally spotted with rain. I returned to camp and rushed to build a fire to get dinner going before I would be marooned in my tent. I hid in my sleeping bag from the pounding rain and cold for a few hours praying I would fall asleep and wake up tomorrow to clear skies. The weather had gone from bearable to malicious, and quite frankly was no longer fun. Just as I had had enough, the skies opened up so I walked down to the lake where I did some push-ups and then some pull-ups from a tree, and immediately felt better. I’ll have to remember this little remedy in future tests. Tomorrow morning I will leave Yellowstone and head to eastern Wyoming where hopefully I’ll find some heat.