Cross-country Trip Log
MAR-APR.2002
This was originally done from the field as I hopped across the country by train. I have since rearranged the entries in chronological order from top to bottom.
18.MAR.2002
Greetings from the New Orleans Public Library. After a 30-hour train ride from NYC (the train arrived here 10 seconds early) I walked the 1.5 miles to the hostel, sweating like a pig. I was not prepared for the heat, which sucked all of the moisture from my body yesterday. I spent the day walking around the French Quarter with a 19-year old Canadian named Colin, and I broke down and ate some bacon and sausage at an all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. I hadn't had a decent meal in about a day and a half, unless you count the $11 stir-fried vegetables on the train.
Last night a small group of us went out early to celebrate St. Patrick's day, but after 8 beers I was ready to leave the young ones behind (I was 10 years older than most of them) and head back to bed. I managed not to do anything stupid, other than spend too much for a slice of pizza.
New Orleans is a fantastic cauldron of debauchery, leading men twice my age to yell "show us your tits!" from balconies at any woman who passes beneath. I wonder if it's like that every night, or just on special occasions.
Today I think I will take it easy and shoot some photos. It turns out there are some cool old buildings that they plan to tear down to expand the convention center and make room for Wal-Mart. Of course, there is an appropriate uproar.
21.MAR.2002
Boy am I tired. I feel like I have been walking constantly since I got here, and I only got 4 hours of sleep last night. It is becoming easier to economize as I get things figured out -- I bought $16 worth of groceries which have provided breakfast every day and either a lunch or a dinner, and Monday was free "red beans and rice" night at Igor's Bar and Laundromat. I did spend $11 for some delicious soul food at the Praline Connection last night, and I hope I find collard greens that taste that good again.
Last night I made it into Preservation Hall, a dingy hole in the wall where you pay $5 to hear some traditional New Orleans Jazz played by some guys who look as though they might have invented it. I'm not a huge jazz fan, but I am really glad that I went. No flash photography allowed (no smokin' or drinkin' either), which is fine because I don't use a flash. The monopod helped nicely to steady the camera in the sweaty, crowded hall, where the only light was from a couple of ceiling fans over the performers. I came out dripping with sweat and smiling. Yes Dad, they played "Sweet Georgia Brown."
This morning started out cold, but it looks like the weather is improving again. Cool people have been coming in and out of the hostel, and it has been great fun getting to know them. I've made friends with folks from England, Canada, Colombia, Australia, France, and all over the US.
Plan for today: relax, eat some cheap food, then go find a band to watch over in Faubourg-Marigny (east of the French Quarter).
28.MAR.2002
Since the last time your hero has checked in, I made it out of New Orleans alive and had my first wild night in Austin, TX. New Orleans was really fantastic, but I think I would have burned out if I had stayed any longer. I went back to Preservation Hall, this time with two Aussies and a Kiwi. The Kiwi is a girl my age who is able to get intoxicated by eating sugar: she was staggering about with a pint of Ben and Jerry's telling dirty nursery rhymes. Bloody wonderful.
The train ride to Austin was uneventful, and I managed to sleep away the 5-hour layover in San Antonio with no problem. From the minute I stepped of the train I was experiencing Austin hospitality: the 3 people who were in the station told me to put my jacket on so I wouldn't get cold; the employees at Spaghetti Warehouse were offering to fill up my water bottle for me while asking about my travels; an optician replaced the little rubber nose thingy on my sunglasses for free.
I continued the walk from the train station to the hostel for what seemed like over an hour, and after I checked in and showered I laid down for a nap -- which lasted for 14 hours. The next morning I made the walk to the grocery store and picked up some eggs, fake sausage, spaghetti, and collard greens. When I got back I made a nice big breakfast, and since the hostel in N.O. only had microwaves it was great to cook for real again. Some of the people I met in New Orleans were staying here, so I went out on the town with them. I was treated to an amateur tour by a kid from Seattle who had an amazing ability to remember and repeat obscure facts that he heard on his "official" tour. Good show. At night I went out with an Aussie and two Swedes and we found a bar selling $1 Shiner Bock pints -- bad idea. At midnight I moved on alone to Stubb's BBQ to see a band called Spacetruck, and they rocked the house.
Tonight I am going to see Flogging Molly play at La Zona Rosa! Oh, and I got a ticket to see the sold-out Fugazi show at Emo's on Saturday. The girl who plays guitar at the hostel every Wednesday night had a ticket but couldn't go, so she sold it to me. Sweet.
03.APR.2002
Not much 'net time today, so I might use incomplete sentences. Fugazi rocked, and they still set up their own beat-up gear themselves after all these years. They played some cool new stuff as well as the old faves except "Waiting Room" which I imagine is their "Freebird". Think I got some great photos...glad I made my way to the front of the stage early, it was shoulder to shoulder all the way to the exit. Saw an Irish Tune Session at a pub Sunday, much like a bluegrass jam. Been hanging out with a cool local girl who took me hiking at Hamilton Pool (a natural swimmin' hole and nature preserve) and Barton Creek. Good to get the inside info on the places to go. Got to see Toni Price free at the Continental Club last night, and was blown away by her whiskey-lubed blues voice. Tonight I am going there again to try to get into the True Believers annual reunion show (Alejandro Escovedo's old cow-punk band). Yee haw!
I still can't believe how nice everybody is here. Must be something in the water. Good to see "BUSH" spraypainted at the bottom of STOP signs right around the corner from the Texas capitol building. Hee!
Probably won't sign on again till I get to Phoenix.
04.APR.2002
Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Ears still ringing from the True Believers show at the Continental Club. Not only did I get in, I was standing right in front of Javier and Alejandro Escovedo for the whole show. Alejandro gave me a sly grin as he and his brother abused their guitars; Javier's pointy boot came within inches of my head as he gave a karate-guitar kick. The place was going crazy as the Troobs tore the MF house down. Three encores and it was time to get out of there.
The German Germophobe has left the hostel. The only thing he ever said to me was, after carefully laying a newspaper on the sofa to sit on, "Zees couches are fery durty, they vill mek your clothes zmell bad." Yeesh.
Off to check out Sam's BBQ, supposedly the best in Austin. Yeah, I've been eating meat here...it IS Texas, after all. Tonight is First Thursday on South Congress (SoCo) and there should be some free music and other fun. Tomorrow night I get on the train to Phoenix...
10.APR.2002
Lips parched, need water. It is hot here in the Phoenix area, and you have to be careful about dehydration. Tom and Shana kindly picked me up at 2am Sunday, and strangely enough it was raining when I arrived. I was so happy to get into a big, soft bed.
Monday I went hiking in South Mountain Park, which is a nature preserve right on the south end of Phoenix. You can climb the hills and look out over the rolling urban sprawl in all directions. This place is pedestrian hell: you absolutely need a car to get anywhere. The roads are laid out in 1 mile square blocks, so the maps are very deceiving.
Yesterday Tom, Steve and I drove to Sedona for some red-rock mountain biking. I had to keep stopping so I could look up at the rocks and marvel. The riding was a lot of fun, and the elevation didn't seem to bother me too much. The terrain kept changing every 30 seconds: red rocks, fine dust, white gravel, riverbed, scrub grass, cacti, little trees...
Today Ian is taking me to the Superstition Mountains for a hike. Time to load up on water.
11.APR.2002
Ian and I both agree: the Flatiron kicked our asses. 4 hours, about 3 miles, 2800 vertical feet. The Flatiron is a peak at the west end of the Superstition Mountains, not a long drive from the Phoenix area. When you get to the top you find a large, flat field of cacti and a spectacular view over the gauntlet through which you just came. Unfortunately, getting down is just as difficult as getting up, only in a different way -- but when you get to the bottom you feel fully satisfied that you just did something not many people have done.
Many thanks to Tom and Shana for graciously hosting and feeding me, Steve and Ian for engineering some great outings, and Karen and Christine for being cool. Tonight I get on the train again, not to arrive in Sacramento until midnight on Friday.
15.APR.2002
Only have 3 minutes before time runs out... partied in Cameron Park (Sacramento) on Saturday, recovered Sunday. Made it to SF this morning - SF public transportation rocks! Off to Chinatown now. More later.
16.APR.2002
Ow. I walked many, many miles today. Checked out Lombard St. Got a new wool "watch cap" (actual military issue) at Fisherman's Wharf to replace the one I lost in New Orleans. Walked through the Presidio, then got a grilled cheese sandwich at the Golden Gate Bridge visitor's center. Walked across the bridge, met some cyclists who had been touring from New Orleans bound for Canada. Walked back across the bridge, then caught a bus back towards the hostel in the Tenderloin.
There are a lot of homeless here, more than D.C. Many of them are pretty messed up, some are rather clever "performers." Lots of damn yuppies, too.
Running out of time again, so until next time...
17.APR.2002
Met up with Sean and his girlfriend Erin last night, had dinner at the excellent Citrus Club (Asian noodle bar) in Haight-Ashbury. Had some Pilsner Urquells at the Trophy Room down the street from there, then called it a night. Glad to see a familiar face after a few days of wandering around on my own.
Today I went on another epic hike, this time down to the Mission district, through Haight-Ashbury and Castro, the whole length of Golden Gate Park to Ocean Beach, up to Lincoln Park, then on the bus back to the Tenderloin. A good 6-7 hours of walking. Looking forward to a relaxing and inexpensive evening. Money goes fast here, you need to keep an eye on it.
23.APR.2002
Sorry about the lapse in updates -- here's the lowdown:
Yesterday I woke up to see enormous redwoods around my head reaching into the fog. Chris "Boo" Radley and I had been hiking in Humboldt Redwoods National Park, which is just south of Eureka, California. Saturday night we slept on Grasshopper Peak (3300 foot elev.) and needed shelter from the wind, but Sunday night we were down in the forest and slept without shelter besides that of the trees. Watching the moon cross the sky to make weird shadows in the trees was pretty spooky, but I slept well in the silent forest until the birds began to sing at dawn. These trees are bloody enormous! I slept next to one that was over 12 feet in diameter, and maybe 300 feet tall. After we hiked out we visited the "Giant Tree," which is 360 feet tall and 17 feet in diameter. Makes you feel pretty insignificant, yet important at the same time. Boo and I had organic tacos and burritos in Garberville on our way back home, and it was sooooooo good after 3 days of camp food.
Last week in the Bay Area I met up with Christine, someone who was at RPI the same time as me but I didn't know very well. I found out from a mutual friend that she had left her job and traveled across country to ultimately settle in Berkeley -- sounded like someone I should talk to. We had a great time hanging out with her boyfriend at the Libertarian hot dog restaurant ("Top Dog") where he works, near UC Berkeley. We talked about all sorts of stuff, including transportation policy, and some of the customers even joined in. On my way out of town on Thursday I stopped by Christine's coffee shop and she hooked me up with coffee, a falafel sandwich, and a care package for the train ride. "Your money is no good here," she said. What a fantastic individual.
San Francisco itself wasn't all it's cracked up to be, although I put in 15+ miles of solid hill-walking while I was there. I really liked the East Bay better, because it has a much more relaxed vibe. SF just seems like a sad place to live. If you must go, however, I recommend hiking from the Cliff House at the north end of Ocean Beach (be sure to check out the museum of old penny arcade games under the Cliff House) to Lincoln Park, where the trails will take you along the cliffs west of the Golden Gate Bridge for a spectacular afternoon view. I came out of the trails near China Beach and caught a bus back to the hostel, but you could keep walking all the way to the bridge.