Rocky Mountain National Park & Staying with Strangers 2

Riding around the Rockies is a blast but I was tired of seeing all the mountains from the road, I wanted to get off the bike and do some hiking. It was time for a little excursion into Rocky Mountain National Park.



The vistas were endless at the park and so were the amounts of other visitors that I had to fight with to get a good camping spot. I got lucky and found a vacancy in a beautiful valley in the Bear Lake area. All was well until the park ranger charged me $20 for a campsite. This is one of the few downfalls of traveling alone, incurring all of the costs for accommodations. So, with pain, I forked over a crisp $20 bill and told the park ranger that I was willing to share my site, since all I had was my little motorcycle and tent. After a leisurely dinner of canned ravioli with the friendly family across the dirt road from me, I needed some fire to heat my cans of food and you have to BUY wood at the campground, a older biker pulled up to my site and went half-zies with me on the price. He was from Kentucky and talked a lot like Boomhower from King of the Hill. He recently sold his house to live in a trailer. He had his own tent and didn't try any funny stuff so he gets an A on the nice stranger report card. Although he was pretty boring.




The next day, I did a long hike up to Flattop Mountain. It wasn't too hard but it did take 4.5 hours and I didn't use any high tech backpacks, hydration bladders or walking sticks. I had my water bottle and rain jacket tied to my belt and a granola bar in my pocket. I got lots of great pictures and a few are in this entry and the rest are found through the link. What I didn't catch on with the camera was some of the high altitude wildlife, such as: Marmots, little running bird things, and a rabbit thingy but with short ears, dear and elk. The view from the top was amazing and I even got a panoramic video that will be up soon.






Everything from my knees down ached and I still didn't know where I was going to sleep that night. I had the best luck of getting a spot at the camp grounds on the other side of the park because they were less crowded. So off I went on a ride that was much more than I expected. It was hard to drive for more than five minutes without having to jump off and take another picture of a awe inspiring vista or massive wild animal munching on greens. The road zig-zagged up the mountainside, up and up, higher and higher, until I was well above the treeline. I eventually found myself in an alpine tundra, bundled up in every piece of clothing I brought and on the crest of a mountain range. The pictures do the best talking, I cant do the views any justice with words.



I eventually found myself at a west side camp ground searching for water. I was very dehydrated because I ran out of water at the top of the mountain trail I hiked earlier and had to pack snow in my bottle in case of emergency. I struck up a convo with the family camping where the water spout was. It was their family reunion and the mother was telling me how they ONLY had 14 people this year. So I replied, "Oh, that's too bad. Want some more company?" They immediately welcomed me in for the night and even provided an extra blanked and to share a tent so I didn't have to set mine up. It was a long night of stories by the campfire and music by The Pogus. The Richardsons kept me laughing until late in the night and stuffed my face with a delicious breakfast in the morning. When it was finally time for me to leave they declared me one of their own and said they would keep track of me on this website. THANKS AGAIN RICHARDSON FAMILY! I might show up for next year's reunion.

Domesticized in Colorado Springs

One week ago, I rode up to a suberb of Colorado Springs to spend time with some long lost family. My half-sister, Chelsea, and her Husband, Ben, invited me to come stay with them and hang out with my nephew, Grant, and my nieces, Ashley and baby Sarah.

I spent the week trying out the life of a family man with the standard 2.3 kids. It has been a very educational experience filled with, crying, diapers, scrapes, t-ball, baby's first words, home improvement projects, bottles, wrestling, tickle fights, early evening dinners and family outings. This week was the only time I've been around little kids for more than an hour or so and it has been pretty fun.

Thats it really... no interesting story here. I've just enjoyed spending time with my cute nieces and nephew and being called "Uncle Gavin". I have been trying pretty unsuccessfully to get used to the altitude so that I can go do some decent hiking...

Some Changes to the Site

Just a heads up on some of the very minor changes to the website:
1) Anybody can comment now, you dont have to have a google account
2) The $5 donation limit for postcards is only for when I am oveseas because it costs that about that much to send one. While I am in the U.S. request all you want, however, a dollar donation would be nice because I am running out of stamps. Thanks to all that have donated so far.
3) Please E-mail me with comments about ANYTHING on the site. Ex: what you would like to see or see more of, stories you like or you really didnt like...

*If something is not working on the site please let me know

Thanks to EVERYBODY that has:
Donated
Offered me a place to stay
Commented on the site or given me feedback
Shared the website with others

Staying with Strangers: Aurora, Colorado

When I was getting ready to leave, a family friend offered to set me up with some people in the Denver area. As I was leaving Cheyenne, I called to ask if the offer was still on the table. I probably should have gave more than a few hours notice but I didn't see myself as much of a bother. I was expecting somebody to just let me in, point to the couch and say be out my X:XX the next morning. I got a lot more than I expected.

The couple that was going to shelter me for the evening were named Jerome and Verona. As the story goes, Verona is a columnist for a couple of newspapers and Jerome lives off of the millions that he sold his business for. Both had a reputation for being a lot of fun. Oh how unprepared I was.

After a four hour detour drive through the Rockies, I pulled up to a large house on a golf course and knocked on the door. The house was filled with the noises of lively greetings and Jerome yelling things like "Feed this boy!... where is the food?!... here, come look at this!... is the food ready yet?!"

Jerome used to be the owner of, to my understanding, the first and very successful ski and golf superstore in the Denver area called Colorado Ski and Golf. The house was a standing ovation to both industries' history and prosperity. Upstairs, the hallway was lined on both sides with famous golf clubs. Clubs that won huge tournaments when in the hands of pros and other sets from VIP's. One of the sets, framed and mounted on the wall, was labelled "The 3.5 million dollar set." I can only guess what that piece of wall art was worth. When Jerome reached the top of the stairs during the grand tour, he snagged one of the clubs leaning up against the banister and said "take a look at this." What I saw was the presidential seal on the underside and Gerald Ford's engraved signature.

I'm not much of a golfer, in fact, I hate playing and the only time I like to watch is when I want to take a nap on a Sunday afternoon. What I am is a snowboarder and what the basement contained compelled me to get out my camera. Mounted on the walls of the basement where antique skis, the first and only mono ski ever made in the U.S., and snowboards personally designed by Jake Burton himself. The most amazing boards down there were the first EVER snowboards made for market retail. Jake Burton, inventor of the snowboard and now the king of the multinational Burton Snowboard Company, had come in to Colorado Ski and Golf to convince Jerome to sell these things in his store. Jerome made him sign the snowboards on the spot. The boards are probably worth millions now and I'm pretty sure Jake Burton wants them back.

After a night of sleeping on a nice bed with a full tummy I accompanied Jerome to the gym. It was good to get some exercise after sitting on a motorcycle for 5 days and it completed my full sample of the Colorado lifestyle: Skiing/snowboarding, golf, and the athletic lifestyle. I am pretty sure I want to live here now. Jerome pointed me to the interstate and gave me an open invitation to come back anytime as long as I gave him more notice. Off I was to stay with my sister in Colorado Springs.

Cheyenne, Wyoming and the Order of the Vagabond

I finnally rode away from the Stardust Motel and across a 5 hours of the Wyoming countryside consisting of only ranches, praries with the occasional rock formation and a small, gas station town. I arrived in the evening in the capital of Wyoming, Cheyenne. I really needed to update the website so I found the nearest Library.

On my way into the library I saw a pack of what looked like homeless people. Not a rare site at libraries. I updated the blog, which took way to long, and left to find another very cheap motel or a nice park to sleep at. However, on my way out, I took a second look at the homeless people in front of the library. They were too young and happy to be truely homeless. Taking this and the type of luggage they had I mosied up to them and asked if they were travelers too. They were... in the rawest form.

These three emo kids, age 20 I'd guess, had been hoping frieght trains and living off of food stamps for the last three weeks. They had migrated from the San Fransisco area and had their 40 lb dog, Gumption, with them the whole way. After some conversation I deemed them safe to assume that they followed the an unwritten code between travelers: No steeling from eachother and always offer what you can. They gave me a contact in San Fran that would likely lead to a place to stay and I offered to split a room with them.

About an hour later I had found a cheap enough room with two queen beds that would cost us each $10. I relayed them to the motel on my bike and we all got a well needed round of showers. Did I mention that they were really stinky from hoping trains? Conversation was light as we shared stories about where we had been and where we were going.

The vagabond style has this unspoken association. Everybody is looking for deals, ways to save money, a fun place to go and, at times, help. When I find these people, the conversation is automatically started by the recognition of the large backpacks. The violation of this kinship is very, very rare. Bikers look after eachother as well but not nearly to the extent as vagabonds. When I push my bike to save the trouble of starting it, at least two or three fellow bikers ask if I need help.

The next morning said goodbye to the stinky emo kids on food stamps and went to see the rodeo I had heard so much about. Turned out that it didnt start the next day so I got some REAL barbeque instead (I had never had the real stuff before, I was burping smoke for hours... delicous). One of the cooks and I struck up a conversation about the difference between smoking and barbequeing, which lead to an in depth lesson in the art of "doing it right, Big Jim style". Keep the flames low, pay lots of attention, and use the right amount of smoke from good wood. That was all there was to Cheyenne that day, so off I went to Colorado.

Conserving Money by Staying in Newcastle, Wyoming

After seeing the high prices for motels in and around the Black Hills National Park I thought I would try and find a cheaper place to stay by finding one of those old, run-down motels on the side of a country highway. I headed west out of the park and into Wyoming. The first town I came to was Newcastle. This was a small, industrial town. Lots of mills, some were abandoned. I went to the local grocery store to get some dinner and asked a local where a really, really cheap place to stay was. She suggested The Stardust Motel.

Pulling up onto the gravel driveway of the motel I read the half working, neon light sign that said vacancy. The "MO" in motel was flickering on and off. I suspected the place was built in the 70's and got the feeling of a highway horror flick from the same era. I climbed off my bike and let my now soggy jeans dry out for a minute and prepared to negotiate with whoever was working the front desk. I opened my wallet and and took out all of the cash except for $15, which was what I estimated to be half of what the room normally cost. I slowly entered and walked up to the front desk and was greeted by a nice looking 35 or so lady. In a haggard voice and a tired look on my face (that part was no act) I enquired as to how much for her absolute cheapest room. She flatly stated $35. I responded, "Ma'am, I've been riding for 5 days now from Chicago, its been a long day and I don't have much money. I could really just use some good luck and a cheap nights sleep." I then pulled out my wallet and opened it wide enough so she could see that I was offering all that I had. She said I was crazy to expect to get a room for that price but quickly enquired as to what kind of a bike I was riding. Turned out that the lady was the owner of the motel and also the new owner of a Honda Magna V45, the same as mine. She said she was having some electrical problems and I suggested that it might have been a fuse and that I could change it for her... which got me thinking. "Do you have any chores I could do to help earn a room?" Long story short, she took $10 as collateral and said she would have some chores for me in the morning then retrieved her bike for me to start working on it.

As I checked the fuses (all were fine so there was nothing I could do) her 18 year old, small town born and raised son came along and made small talk. After some bonding with the youngster I tossed him the keys to my bike and I jumped on his mom's bike. He gave me a confused look and I told him "show me the finer parts of this town." And away we went on a classic country cruise around his tiny town and down his old time looking main street.

The next morning I woke for my chores. These consisted of moving a large refrigerator and desk and weed duty. The weed duty was no small task. The tool for the job was a pressurized 15 gallon tank of Round-up weed killer strapped to an ATV. I sprayed every weed around that whole motel property. I would drive 10 feet spray the area the host could ready, then drive another ten feet and repeat. It took about 3.5 hours. When I was done it was already 1:30 and I had wanted to be on the road by 10 am. The owner, Shelly, paid me 10 bucks on top of my collateral and treated me to lunch at the all you can eat Pizza Hut Buffet. All said and done I think that she got her money's worth of work out of me. After a few pictures and goodbyes I waved goodbye as I rode south for the capital and the Colorado border.

Country people are always the most friendly. If you ever find yourself traveling in a manner similar to mine, get off the interstate and look around. The only thing you will find on the interstate is traffic and tourist traps.

Head for the Hills!

I woke up refreshed and giddy again to hit the road. It was a short ride to the Black Hills National Park. The soothing, cool breeze from the dense trees and higher altitude was a nice reminder that not all of this travel will be in sweltering hear in vast spans of boringness. The first stop was the famous tourist attraction Mt. Rushmore. I paid the 8 bucks to park and walk up the monument deal they had going and to gain a better appreciation for it... all said and done the huge sculpture was just as good for free from the road (as seen in the background here.) I went to a nearby picnic area and a had a lunch of trail mix, cheap cereal and... well that's it, some water too. Which is why I chose to sit at the table next to the boyscout troop. I hoped that after their large, well planned meal that they would offer me some left overs but, alas, no dice.

The next stop was Crazy Horse Mountain. This mountain is a work in progress to become the worlds largest sculpture. So far only Crazy Horse's face is the only thing done but you can start to make out the shape. What made this stop worth it was the Native American History Museum that was attached, I recommend it.

This touristy stuff was fun and all but the best part of the day was when I braved to rain to find get what I really wanted from the state of South Dakota: An up-close look at a buffalo. I heard of a wildlife park attached to the one I was in where such sightings were common. I paid the 5 bucks to get in and started out on my safari. A multitude of low, thick rain clouds had just came in giving the roads that misty forest feel. Once the cloud had passed I say my first indigenous creature: a deer. Whoopdy doo. I wanted a buffalo! I rode on through the mountains, mist and across the grassy valleys and spotted another large hairy creature: an antelope. Never seen one of those so I snapped a picture and got back onto my quest. Almost an hour of riding went and I had accepted the fact that no buffalo was going to rear its ugly head so I-- Slammed my breaks to avoid the heard of buffalo that I had just come to over a bend. They have been known to charge people that get to close so I parked the bike and flagged down a passing car, I wanted the extra protection of a steel cage around me. I got about 20 feet from the big things and got my photo!

Feeling accomplished I checked a couple motels to see what the rate was, about 40 bucks for the cheapest. I refused to pay more than 20 because that is how much hostels cost in Europe. I decided I would be able to find a better deal if I got out of the national park and into a rural town so, I jumped onto the cycle and got the heck out of South Dakota and said hello to Wyoming, a little industrial town named Newcastle to be exact, but that is my next story...

The Badlands

It was a very long and boring ride all day to get to the Badlands National Park but well worth it. Riding all the way through in the 90+ degree weather with full sun brought me to the town of Wall. A huge tourist trap to take money, not the type of thing I was in the mood for. I cruised the outer rim of the town for a place to sleep and found a spot that would do nicely. It was a very old baseball diamond complete with encloused dugouts, one of which was left open. Behind a shed was a perfect spot to hide my bike.

Now knowing I had a place to call home for the night I set out for the first beautiful ride of this trip. The badlands is a small sandstone mountain range. Not much grows there, hence the name, but it made for some amazng photos and riding. The park was much larger than I thought and I found myself hugging turns and doging fluttering bats in the pitch black. I eventually made it back to wall and to my dugout. Before I got off my bike I looked at my little knook and realized just how miserably dirty I really felt. The idea of sleeping on concret didnt appease to me either. Minutes later I found myself begging an old lady that managed a run down motel to cut me a deal... and she did. I would have paid $30 bucks for just a shower at that point. I immediately jumped into the shower and hit the hay for a long nights sleep. The next day was going to be fun: Mt Rushmore and the Black Hills National Park

!

Across Iowa

I successfully made it to the University of Iowa on the first day of the trip. I visited my friend Drew, who you can read about under the 'Great People' list. He even gave me the bed in his spare room, no sleeping on the floor! The next morning I woke up to heavy clouds and warnings of all day showers and possible severe storms, so I jumped on my bike wearing my goofy looking rain suit and tried to outrun it. At 65 mph bugs feel like paint balls when they hit you and raindrops feel like needles. I eventually came out of the storm and saw nothing but sunny, blue sky in front of me and slate gray nasty skies in my mirrors.

At first I was downright giddy to be on the road again but that eventually gave way to me slumping over in my seat and hoping for something worth stopping for... besides gas and finding out that my saddle bags are burning. My bike is only getting 32 mpg for some reason and it is forcing me to stop every 80 miles to fill up. Hopefully, there will be gas stations every 80 miles in South Dakota and something more to look at than the Iowa landscape.

Last night I stayed with some friend's of Drew's friend. She offered to set me up with some old college buddies of hers. They were very nice and had a comfortable couch, which I passed out on while they drank beer and watched T.V. until late into the night. Riding a motorcycle all day takes a lot out of you and leaves you wanting to skip any small talk and go right to sleep.

Today is all South Dakota and I hope I have enough time to make it to the Badlands by this evening. Wish me luck.

Today I leave and I am very excited. Not especially about getting on the road, but I am happy for that, but to escape all of these goodbyes! Luckily, nobody has cried yet. As you can see in the picture I have my huge backpack strapped to my sissy bar and a pair of massive saddle bags filled with motorcycle stuff and food. I just topped off the fluids and checked all the air pressure and I'm good to go...

*Horse race announcer* "Ladies and gentlemen, he is looking ancy on that bike in the garage. His engine is warmed and he is about to- AND THERE HE GOES!!! Rocketing out of the open garage as if it were a missile silo! He is rounding his first turn to get out of his subdivision... hes on his first busy street now, flying at an amazing 40mph!!! Oh wait he's pulled off to get gas.... One moment folks... AND THERE GOES AGAIN!!! Flying down route 30 and onto Orchard road!! Wait, hes pulling off again... and saying goodbye to one more person.... *sighs* Well looks like its going to be a long race. Okay, he is finnally on the interstate... woo hoo."

About this Site

Welcome to my website! There is lots here to read. I suggest starting with the list of links on the right side. You can read about me, about the trip, track where I am on a map, contact me and even see my resume'. One of the more interesting features on the site is the ability to request gifts and postcards while I'm on the road!

The main function of the site is to link you, the reader, to my trip. I'll do my best to update it at least once a week with new photos and stories. Remember that you can comment on my posts. Enjoy!

Explanation of The Journey

After my freshman year at ISU, I took a short trip to backpack around Europe. I became hooked on the backpacker/hobo lifestyle but did not like particular aspects of how I went about my trip and developed my own philosophy of travel. These aspects are what have shaped the travel style and the type of trip I am embarking on.

"Around the world by heading west, without planes and on a shoestring budget."

Around the World…

The greatest distance for any type of journey. What a colossal accomplishment to actually make it all the way around. One of the best perks to setting this stipulation is that I would never pass the same place twice, never turn around, only go straight until I suddenly come back to where I started, which brings me to a spatial enigma. If I go straight, away from a place and keep going until I come back to, what would seem to be, the same place… can it really be the same place, or would the place be the same and I be the spatial paradox? (Physics majors are not allowed to answer this)

…By Heading West…

Really there were only two logical decisions when it came to picking a direction; I want to avoid the polar icecaps so that left east or west. I chose west because of all of the great immigrations, and the small ones, that have affected my life were all westward movements. The first American settlers came from the east and then expanded west across the continent. The Great Potato Famine brought my Irish ancestors and the Bolshevik Revolution brought my Russian great grandparents. They settled with Native American women, one of which gave birth to my grandfather, who eventually hitchhiked from Arkansas to California. Let’s just say that I come from a long line or westward traveling, lonely men.

Besides the historical reasons for heading west there is one more very large factor affecting my decision to head west over east: time travel. That’s right, I said time travel. By heading west I gain an hour each time I enter a new time zone. This means that if I go all the way around the world and, according to you I was gone 300 days, to me I would have only experienced being gone for 299 days. If taking some time off after college to experiment with time travel isn’t a good use of time, I don’t know what is. Hopefully future employers will see it my way.

There is one last reason why I like heading west. It's a bit corny. Over the duration of this trip I will be following the sun's path, ending each day by heading into the sunset. This is the reason for the photo at the top of the page. I like it, I think it sets up a nice ambiance.

…Without Planes...

The use of planes is great for when you are in a rush but, I am not in a rush. When I flew to Europe I hated how I got on a plane, fell asleep and woke up halfway around the world. I missed all the transition areas between cultures and places. While cruising at 500 miles an hour at 35,000 feet, think about how much I missed. Most importantly, I had no feel for how far away I was and, because of that disconnect with the distance, never got an appreciation for being far away. On this trip I want to feel like I am on the other side of the planet, like I’ve covered a lot of distance. These are the reasons why I want to stay away from planes.

*** Although this philosophy is still very important to me. As of September 19th I boarded a plan to start making my way to Hawiia and then on to Asia. I had exauhsted all other means of travel. Please read the corresponding entry for more of an explanation ***

…On a Shoestring Budget…

I didn’t get to choose my budget, I got to choose when to take the trip. Time allows for now but my wallet happens to be very thin. Even if I did have a lot of money I still think I would travel cheaply just because I tend to get to know a country better that way. Who would you rather meet on a train in India: The westernized businessperson in first class or the culturally traditional person riding coach with their chickens? I love chicken… I’m hungry. I’ll be saving money wherever I can by sleeping under the stars or eating canned food from grocery stores instead of at restaurants. I’ll try to pick up odd jobs wherever I can along the way. For the amount of distance I want to travel I am going to need to stretch a dollar pretty far.

Failure

I try not to talk about this too much but I feel that I have to. In all seriousness my money could run out much quicker than I estimate. To make this trip a success, I'm going to need a lot of luck and I may not get it. I know I will at LEAST, at bare minimum luck, ride my motorcycle across the U.S. and to the west coast, seeing much family and beauty on the way. I'll be happy with a failure like that.