We were off to LA where we stayed with a childhood friend of Elisa's mom. The day after that we headed up the coast to Oakland. We stayed as close as we could to the water. Right around Big Sur we hit bad weather and the driving was no longer fun, but the scenery was still strikingly beautiful. I've been in Oakland since Monday the 11th. The weather is amazing here and I'm meeting some really wonderful people.
I miss you NYC, but I've still got three weeks left of this and I'm already wondering how I can make this either a more frequent or a more permanent thing... we will see.
LOVE.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Sedona and the Dream Nightmare Reality Camping Trip, take 2
I have already written this story once, and the interweb decided to swallow it whole never to be seen again. So this is my second attempt at telling you all the story about how I was almost possibly kinda maybe could have been eaten alive in the middle of nowhere by what was probably but not definitely a monster or a human being. Of course I won't start there, you have to hear all of the boring stuff first, like what happened when we left the Grand Canyon on Monday night and arrived in the beautiful wonderful Sedona, A.Z.
We got to Sedona just in time to see the sunset on Airport rd which is the best place to watch it from in Sedona. There is a small butte that is very easily climbed and from the top you get a great 360 degree view. From there you can watch the sun set in the west and also the red light from the sun reflecting back on the red rock mountains in the east. It is truly enchanting. It also happens to be one of the five vortices in Sedona. The sentence I have just written is one which I myself do not understand so if you have questions I refer you to Elisa, or wikipedia, whichever you prefer.
My wonderful amazing super-duper Dad got us a room at the Hilton that night (thanks Dad) so we had a tiny bit of room in our budget for some non-microwaved grub. We went to this place called the Hideaway where the pizza is, well, pizza and the beer is $3.50 (!), so I had a few of those too. We were living the life again folks. My dad offered to book two nights at the Hilton but we thought that might be a little excessive and also we had all of this camping gear we hadn't even used yet. Agreeing that if we couldn't find a site the next day we would take my dad up on his offer, we started on finding a campground. Our waiter at the Hideaway was clearly a camper. That's right folks, I profiled the shit out of this guy. I'm sorry but saying things like "everyone who wears flannel is like this," or "everyone who has a hat collection is like that," is fucking ignorant. But saying things like "everyone who wears Keans goes camping" is definitely true. Always. Nobody buys Keans because they're cute. No body. I digress. Homeboy was totally helpful, and even drew us a little map on his dupe pad. Despite the direction in which this story is headed, I am forever grateful to Shannon from Hideaway for being so eager to share this camping mecca with two, kind of smelly girls who are complete strangers.
Up at a little after 8am the next morning we set out to find this amazing campsite and see if there was a spot for us before it was time to check out of the hotel. We found what we thought was the site Shannon told us about and went back to the Hilton to tell them, "Peace out." After camp was set up we went on a really short trek down a dried up stream bed and gave Shannon a call to thank him again. He inquired a little about our whereabouts and quickly decided that not only were we not at the site he was talking about but also that we would be seriously missing out if we didn't try to find it. Back in the Jeep we got and headed further down the road.
Let me stop here to remind you all that we opted out of another night at the Hilton, compliments of the wonderful John Fisher. Voluntarily. No gun to our heads. Our choice.. Ok, now I will continue.
Soon enough the already dirty road turned into a rocky dirt road and we were headed up the side of a small mountain. Heading down the mountain were a couple of campers in a van. We stopped and chatted. They were a couple in their fifties or sixties who had poked around the site until they were weirded out by a man who appeared to be living in the mountains and scurried away when he saw them. "You could almost hear the bajos playing," said Mr. Camper, and for some reason we all laughed. After chatting a bit more we all decided that if Elisa and I stayed out of his way he would probably stay out of ours. We continued over the mountain only to find an amazing valley with giant sycamores and a beautiful babbling creek. It was so enchanting, like a scene from a fairytale, and it was free. Amazing.
We headed back to the original camp site to break down and relocate, and as we got further away from the beauty of the valley my stomach began to turn. Were we really going to camp out there alone with that creepy mountain guy? There were no other campers in sight, it would just be us. Elisa very much wanted to camp there, and I couldn't blame her, so we referred to the wonderfully helpful Shannon. He told us not to be afraid, that people camp out there for weeks at a time and that if we told anyone that Shantop Shanookey is our soul brother we would be left alone. Strangely this made us feel a lot better.
We relocated to a beautiful spot on the creek, made some chilli and hot toddies for dinner and chatted quietly until sunset. The sun went down over the mountain turning the little valley hot pink and soon the stars emerged from the night. It was amazingly beautiful, and I had taken a xanax, so I was doing relatively ok. Then it got really, really dark. I don't think I am exaggerating here, it was the darkest night I have ever seen in my life. I quickly morphed from 27 year old woman to terrified five year old who insists there are monsters under her bed. Elisa thought I would feel better if we went into the tent and played cards, and I agreed.
One lousy game of gin. One, that Elisa won I might add, before it happened. The most clearly distinctly perfectly heard rustle of leaves. This is no exaggeration guys, it was a rustle, it happened, something was out there and we were immediately terrified. We sat up. Elisa grabbed the hammer, I grabbed the pepper spray and moved that little tab to the right, ready to fire. I forgot to tell you about our weapons but we had them to ease my nerves a little. To be honest, in the moment when you think you may be eaten alive by a mountain lion or cannibalistic mountain man, pepper spray and a hammer don't really make you feel much better. There was another rustle, and then another one and then we finally got the balls to run to the car. There was no screaming, but now looking back I wish we had because it really would have added some dramatic effect to this story.
We slept that night in the Safeway parking lot until the sun rose. When we got back to the camp site the next day everything was just as we left it. Tent open, cards out and my cell phone hanging in the tent pocket about to die. Yes, it could have been anything. A jack rabbit, a snake, a grizzly man with a paring knife and an appetite. Whatever the possibilities may be, neither Elisa or myself is willing to believe it was an animal of the four legged variety, and we feel very lucky to be alive to tell this tale.
The End.
We got to Sedona just in time to see the sunset on Airport rd which is the best place to watch it from in Sedona. There is a small butte that is very easily climbed and from the top you get a great 360 degree view. From there you can watch the sun set in the west and also the red light from the sun reflecting back on the red rock mountains in the east. It is truly enchanting. It also happens to be one of the five vortices in Sedona. The sentence I have just written is one which I myself do not understand so if you have questions I refer you to Elisa, or wikipedia, whichever you prefer.
My wonderful amazing super-duper Dad got us a room at the Hilton that night (thanks Dad) so we had a tiny bit of room in our budget for some non-microwaved grub. We went to this place called the Hideaway where the pizza is, well, pizza and the beer is $3.50 (!), so I had a few of those too. We were living the life again folks. My dad offered to book two nights at the Hilton but we thought that might be a little excessive and also we had all of this camping gear we hadn't even used yet. Agreeing that if we couldn't find a site the next day we would take my dad up on his offer, we started on finding a campground. Our waiter at the Hideaway was clearly a camper. That's right folks, I profiled the shit out of this guy. I'm sorry but saying things like "everyone who wears flannel is like this," or "everyone who has a hat collection is like that," is fucking ignorant. But saying things like "everyone who wears Keans goes camping" is definitely true. Always. Nobody buys Keans because they're cute. No body. I digress. Homeboy was totally helpful, and even drew us a little map on his dupe pad. Despite the direction in which this story is headed, I am forever grateful to Shannon from Hideaway for being so eager to share this camping mecca with two, kind of smelly girls who are complete strangers.
Up at a little after 8am the next morning we set out to find this amazing campsite and see if there was a spot for us before it was time to check out of the hotel. We found what we thought was the site Shannon told us about and went back to the Hilton to tell them, "Peace out." After camp was set up we went on a really short trek down a dried up stream bed and gave Shannon a call to thank him again. He inquired a little about our whereabouts and quickly decided that not only were we not at the site he was talking about but also that we would be seriously missing out if we didn't try to find it. Back in the Jeep we got and headed further down the road.
Let me stop here to remind you all that we opted out of another night at the Hilton, compliments of the wonderful John Fisher. Voluntarily. No gun to our heads. Our choice.. Ok, now I will continue.
Soon enough the already dirty road turned into a rocky dirt road and we were headed up the side of a small mountain. Heading down the mountain were a couple of campers in a van. We stopped and chatted. They were a couple in their fifties or sixties who had poked around the site until they were weirded out by a man who appeared to be living in the mountains and scurried away when he saw them. "You could almost hear the bajos playing," said Mr. Camper, and for some reason we all laughed. After chatting a bit more we all decided that if Elisa and I stayed out of his way he would probably stay out of ours. We continued over the mountain only to find an amazing valley with giant sycamores and a beautiful babbling creek. It was so enchanting, like a scene from a fairytale, and it was free. Amazing.
We headed back to the original camp site to break down and relocate, and as we got further away from the beauty of the valley my stomach began to turn. Were we really going to camp out there alone with that creepy mountain guy? There were no other campers in sight, it would just be us. Elisa very much wanted to camp there, and I couldn't blame her, so we referred to the wonderfully helpful Shannon. He told us not to be afraid, that people camp out there for weeks at a time and that if we told anyone that Shantop Shanookey is our soul brother we would be left alone. Strangely this made us feel a lot better.
We relocated to a beautiful spot on the creek, made some chilli and hot toddies for dinner and chatted quietly until sunset. The sun went down over the mountain turning the little valley hot pink and soon the stars emerged from the night. It was amazingly beautiful, and I had taken a xanax, so I was doing relatively ok. Then it got really, really dark. I don't think I am exaggerating here, it was the darkest night I have ever seen in my life. I quickly morphed from 27 year old woman to terrified five year old who insists there are monsters under her bed. Elisa thought I would feel better if we went into the tent and played cards, and I agreed.
One lousy game of gin. One, that Elisa won I might add, before it happened. The most clearly distinctly perfectly heard rustle of leaves. This is no exaggeration guys, it was a rustle, it happened, something was out there and we were immediately terrified. We sat up. Elisa grabbed the hammer, I grabbed the pepper spray and moved that little tab to the right, ready to fire. I forgot to tell you about our weapons but we had them to ease my nerves a little. To be honest, in the moment when you think you may be eaten alive by a mountain lion or cannibalistic mountain man, pepper spray and a hammer don't really make you feel much better. There was another rustle, and then another one and then we finally got the balls to run to the car. There was no screaming, but now looking back I wish we had because it really would have added some dramatic effect to this story.
We slept that night in the Safeway parking lot until the sun rose. When we got back to the camp site the next day everything was just as we left it. Tent open, cards out and my cell phone hanging in the tent pocket about to die. Yes, it could have been anything. A jack rabbit, a snake, a grizzly man with a paring knife and an appetite. Whatever the possibilities may be, neither Elisa or myself is willing to believe it was an animal of the four legged variety, and we feel very lucky to be alive to tell this tale.
The End.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
To my poor, poor readers,
Last night was the first time I was able to check this blog on an actual computer. I'm writing entirely from my cell phone, most of the time I'm sleep deprived and I have one eye out the window so I don't miss a thing. This is not my best writing folks.
I was assuming for the most part that no one was actually reading this except maybe my 14year old niece and my brother, but last night I saw that I've gotten over 200 views. Ahhh! These poor people who are reading this garbage!
This whole blog was really only intended to inform my loved ones of where I am in the country at any given time and what is going on while I'm there. If you stumble across this blog looking for something else, turn back now or prepare to be bored to tears!
For those of you who do know me and are looking for updates on my whereabouts, I miss you all already and, though you are so far away, I am having the time of my life.
Love.
Monday, March 4, 2013
The L Motel and the Grand Canyon
We rolled into Flagstaff yesterday (Sunday, I'm sure this time thanks to ample sleep) around 8pm. Through the app for hotels.com we booked a room for $27 a night and could not freekin wait to see what that was going to be like. The reviews were good and said they had flat screen TV's. We checked in and checked out our room. Sure enough, there was a flat screen and it even had HBO! Amazing.
After some spoling in Albuquerque we realized we are running low on funds and so planned out our meals for the next few nights. Yep, Ramen noodles and Chef Boyardee beef ravioli ladies and gentlemen. I do not miss college.
Today, Monday, we headed up to the Grand Canyon. It was Elisa's first time, my third. We had an amzing day. Trekked along the rim for about an hour. Rummaged through gift shops and took a bunch of photos. The real treat has been the ride home.
I'm writing from the Jeep right now. We are heading to Sedona tonight and decided to take the desert view trail home. We are in the canyon. It is so amazingly beautiful and terrifyingly destitute I can't get enough of it. To live out here would be the most outstandingly lonly existence ever. But the view is everything. As I write we are heading toward snow capped mountains. This is the tits folks.
Love.
Nice hotels, rooftop bars and turquoise jewelry.
New Mexico is beautiful. The sky is so blue and so big and the buttes and plateaus in the distance are red and yellow and covered in desert bushes. I love the desert. We arrived in Albuquerque and checked into a hotel that Gordon's parents got for us. We needed that so badly. The hotel was so beautiful and staffed by such lovely people. There was also a rooftop bar with happy hour so we showered and put on something cute clothes and went up for a drink. Sunset was amazing but we were hungry so we headed out to a recommended restaurant for dinner. We treated ourselves in Albuquerque, but it was necessary. We made some friends with some locals, had a few drinks and called it a night.
The thought of leaving that amazing hotel was a little rough, so we got late checkout on Sunday and rearranged some things. When we left Chicago it was snowy and freezing and we had dressed and packed accordingly. Now in New Mexico the sun was shining bright and hot.
On Sunday we went to old town on the hunt for turquoise jewelry. We found a nice shop with a huge variety and reasonable prices. Elisa and I love stones so much it was a little overwhelming. This store had case after case of rotating shelves packed with turquoise and opals and tigers eye and so much more. I was in heaven.
We got our goods, got some lunch and got out of town. Next stop Flagstaff, A.Z.
LOVE.
Friday, March 1, 2013
The nicest people I've ever met live in Oklahoma.
From the minute we arrived in Oaklahoma at the toll booth on interstate 44 we knew this place was inhabited by the nicest people we've ever met. When have you ever known a guy working at a toll booth to welcome you, ask where you are headed and tell you to have a good time?
We crashed in the car around 3:45am after driving for what seemed like forever on no sleep. Elisa woke up at a little after five and drove the rest of the way to Tulsa. We found a little diner with a sign out front that said "two eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy $2.99" Inside were a bunch of gray haired people smoking cigarettes and eating eggs (yes, at the same time).
After breakfast we headed over to the largest free standing sculpture in the world. Its a giant gold sculpture of an oil driller with "Tulsa" on his belt.
Then we were off to Oklahoma city. We stopped in a Starbucks and got some more coffee and plugged in Elisa's laptop. Oklahoma City is nice, but there wasnt any time to play. We got an oil change and got right back on the road.
We were gonna try to make it all the way to Albuquerque by that night (Thursday? Friday? What is today? Can't remember), but about half way to Amarillo we knew we wouldn't make it another five hours on the road. In Amarillo we saw the Cadillac Ranch, graffitied Cadillacs that are stuck nose first in the sand and then checked into the Red Roof Inn. Knowing that falling asleep too early would be a mistake, we found a Mexican restaurant and got some food and some margaritas and I got very drunk very easily. It was awesome.
And then there was sleep. Finally. I think we drove for 26.5hrs, only stopping 1.5hrs to rest. We won't be doing much more of that, don't worry. It's just before noon and we should be in Albuquerque soon where we will stay at a very nice hotel, compliments of the wonderful Joe and Karen Tashjian to whom we are ever so grateful. It's going to be smooth easy sailing from here... or so we hope. More tomorrow maybe.
Love.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
What happens after Chicago...
...is a mystery to us all, to be honest with you. We finally left Chicago around 3pm on Thursday (yesterday/today? It's already starting to blur a little bit). We pulled into St. Louis around 7:30 or so. St. Louis was part of the original plan and it seemed like an awesome city. Only problem is that we rolled in around dinner time and all of the good BBQ joints (according to both friends of mine who made suggestions and good old yelp.com) were already closed or about to be soon. We pulled up to a place downtown that had a sign out front that said BBQ and live music. Perfect. Exciting. We parked the car and headed inside only to sit down and be told they were out of ribs tonight. Lose. Since we are pretty strapped for cash and had some leftovers from lunch in the car we told them thanks but no thanks and headed out.
We finished our sandwiches in the car and headed over to the arch, only to find there is absolutely nowhere to park near that thing. Come on St. Louis, I want so badly to love you (quiclky, but truly), cut me some slack. We illegally parked in front of some serious looking government building, did some guerilla photography and hopped on the 44 west.
All I can tell you now is that we are about an hour and a half outside of Tulsa, OK and there's a giant golden statue of an oil driller there. Apparently it's the largest stand alone statue in the world. I cannot contain my excitement... or it could be the overly excessive caffeine intake.
Love.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
So far so good!
The weather channel predicted awful weather all the way from Buffalo to Chicago. We started out in Buffalo with some sleet and rain, but not such a big deal. Somewhere between Erie and Cleveland there was some snowy sleet. Now we are west of Cleveland and I think I can even see some blue skies peeking through the clouds. It's all good so far! Here are some pictures:
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Buffalo, N.Y.
Arrived in Buffalo last night at 2am. My train pulled into Depew two hours late, who knows why. Luckily the bottle of wine I bought didn't suck too bad, and I had some tasty snacks with me :-)
Ran around town doing errands all day. Spent some time with Elisa's dog Sadie. Got to go to Wegman's, the most amazing grocery store of them all. It's a little funny being in Buffalo again in the winter. When Gordon and I come for Christmas we stay in Springville which is a totally different story. It's the country side, lots of snow, horses. Here in Williamsville I'm reminded of college but it doesn't feel like it was ever home. I'm not having a bad time at all, actually I'm really enjoying the company and the food is great. Just noticing the lack of nostalgia for a place I spent a lot of time in.
Today was Elisa's wonderful mother's birthday so we had a lovely dinner. Then we packed up the car. All ready to go! The plan is to leave for Chicago tomorrow morning at 7 and brave this Midwestern snow storm. Let the adventure begin!
Love.
Monday, February 25, 2013
Peace out home slice.
Farewell for now, NYC. I swiped my metro card to get on the M train leaving a balance of $0.05. There was a man in a leather jacket who stared at me the entire ride from Marcy avenue to Herald Square. On 34th street I deflected looks of interest and criticism, as well as one Tibetan monk. I'm hoping that is not going to give me bad Karma. In my defense he looked kind of shady or maybe like he was gonna try and sell me something. Picked up a bottle of wine that looks like it's probably going to suck and I had Gordon put a copy of Argo on my phone before I left. Now I'm on the train at the beginning of an 8 hour ride to Buffalo, N.Y. and my stomach has fInally stopped flipping with nervous anticipation.
I wonder if I will be so critical of Tibetan monks when I return.
Love.
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