Archive for the ‘Roadtrip’ Category

This was a special moment. After one of the worst nights sleep I’d ever had I’d been away from the tent early and been to see Old Faithful. Whilst the geyser itself remains as spectacular as ever (except for the cone which was hacked away for souvenirs by early tourists) the surrounding area has been turned into a geological Disneyland, overrun by coachloads of tourists for whom Yellowstone can be crossed off once they’ve witnessed Old Faithful spouting.

Without a doubt, you have to go and see Old Faithful, a visit to Yellowstone would never be complete without it, but take your time and go and see some of the less well-known geysers and you’ll get to see something truly unique. Getting to Lone Star involves driving 10 minutes past Old Faithful and an hours walk. I was alone for the majority of the walk, apart from squirrels and deer grazing by the river that the path follows. This was good because if nobody was walking away from the geyser it probably meant it hadn’t recently erupted (it has intervals of between 3-4 hours), but bad because I was a little terrified of meeting a bear, and the lack of other walkers increased the possibility of that in my city-slicking mind.

But, I made it to the geyser unscathed, delighted to discover a group of around 20 people already gathered, who told me it was due to erupt within the next hour. And sure enough, 40 minutes later they rhythmic belching and hissing graduated into a fully-fledged jet of scalding water being fired 50 feet into the air, roaring like a small jet plane. It lasted for another 20 minutes or so, then fizzled out. One of the spectators noted the time in the log book, and slowly the group dispersed, witnesses of a unique and beautiful natural display.

I got here early on a beautiful summers day and already it was starting to get seriously hot. I had a lot to do that day so I didn’t stay too long but it’s not a big place so I got to see most of it. It’s a starkly beautiful place, very little vegetation and surreal rock formations all around. The red of the rock and the deep blue of the sky stays imprinted on your brain for a long time.

So this was supposed to be the big one. After leaving Monument Valley I’d driven along virtually deserted country roads to Page, Arizona where I spent the night, and in the morning headed off to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon, about 2 hours away. I stopped on the way at a service station where the attendant was having enormous problems trying to understand a 50-something French lady who obviously spoke very little English. I asked the lady (in French) if I could help and without drawing breath she launched into a rant about how she’d been travelling with friends who turned out to be a bunch of arseholes and how she was now travelling alone and wanted to buy some coffee and she was from Clermont Ferrand and it’s not like France here is it?

She continued in this vein for the next 5 minutes, seemingly unaware of the fact that French is not the native tongue in Arizona, seeing nothing unusual in the fact I could understand her. Before too long, I paid for my own coffee and muffin and away I went, her chattering still in the background. She’s probably still there.

About 20 miles after leaving Page (top photo) you are faced with a choice, Grand Canyon North Rim or South Rim. This is the last chance you have to decide – as the crow flies the two are something like 10 miles apart (and visible to each other), by road it’s over 200 miles. So choose carefully young one. I went to the North Rim – to be honest I can’t remember why now, but there was a good reason at the time.

Before too long the scenery began to change dramatically and the rocks and desert began giving way to hills and trees as the road entered the Kaibab National Forest and after an hour or so of this you came to the North Rim itself. I set my tent up (I was getting pretty slick at it by this point) and headed down to the Canyon itself.

Everybody knows that pictures and words cannot do justice to a natural wonder such as the Grand Canyon, so I won’t try. I will say however that it’s breathtaking, there’s no doubt about it, but it doesn’t do much if you know what I mean.

You turn up, you ooh and ahh (and let’s face it, you’ve never seen anything like it before, it is incredible), then you move to another spot to get a slightly different perspective where you ooh and ahh some more. You stay for sunset, you come back for sunrise. Then you leave.

I think maybe I was suffering a little bit from not being able to share this with anyone. I’d spent an hour or so with some very nice people at Old Faithful in Yellowstone, but apart from that I’d barely spoken to a soul (eccentric Frenchies aside) for a week and it was starting to tell.

Slight lonely grumpiness aside however, you’re never going to regret going to the Grand Canyon and it certainly is one of those things you should try to see at least once in your life. My advice – take someone special with you!

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Looking through my photos from last year earlier today I realised that I hadn’t written a lot about the Roadtrip I took from Seattle to Los Angeles last year. I’ve mentioned it, but haven’t really done it justice given the adventure it was, so over the next few days I’ll post some pictures and tales of what happened.

After leaving Yellowstone and the Grand Teton National Parks, I headed south towards Utah and Arizona. I had no real route planned, but the Grand Canyon was down there somewhere and I wasn’t going to come all this way and not pay it a visit so I based my navigation on this, using it as a target. I left the campsite at Grand Teton, 5 days after leaving Seattle, nice and early and drove south.

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Through Jackson and onto Alpine, Wyoming where I stopped for some breakfast and then ever southwards, briefly touching Utah, then back into Wyoming where I made a slight detour to head through Evanston. After Evanston I entered Utah again where I would stay for the next day or so. The Northern part was fairly green and hilly and after some dull Interstate I crawled through the traffic in Provo, third largest city in Utah and home to the Church of the Latter Day Saints Missionary Training Centre.

I’ve not had many happy experiences with Mormons so for this reason I decided not to stop in Provo (although I enjoyed the billboards advertising Modest Clothing, Next Left!) and carried on over the wonderfully named Soldier Summit, through Helper (names after the Helper locomotives based there, used to help freight trains through the the mountain pass) and stopped for the evening in Green River, 470 miles from Grand Teton.

Green River wasn’t particularly accurately named, I saw nothing green and no river, I had definitely reached the desert at this point, miles of dust and rock, not much else. In the morning I headed to the Arches National Park just outside of Moab.

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The arches, created over thousands of years through wind erosion are pretty spectacular, and the wide open space, hot sun beating down and red rock combine to create a special place, even taking into account the large number of tour buses (and tourists) sharing the space with you.

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But the highlight of the day, and probably the highlight of the trip came later in the afternoon as I left the town of Mexican Hat in Utah and headed toward the Arizona border. I knew what was coming, but it still managed to take my breath away.

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Monument Valley is one of those places you know even if you don’t know it. You’ve seen it before – scenes from some of the most iconic Westerns have been shot there, but the one that stuck out for me was the scene in Forrest Gump where he stops running. You see the same view as you drive towards it (photo above).

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I had thought about spending the night there, they advertise a campsite (it’s part of Navajo Nation and the tribe run the site) but when I got there it was more a rocky car park than campsite so I spent a couple of hours taking in the view and as any good Western should end, rode off into the sunset.

As my regular reader will know, I have already confessed my man-love for Bill Bryson. One of the charms of his book, The Lost Continent is the fact that it is the memoirs of a roadtrip. There are very few journeys as evocative as the US Roadtrip and if you’re honest I’m sure everyone has thought, or dreamed, of hitting the highway at least once in their lives. From Route 66, to Kerouac, Steinbeck, Springsteen and Hunter S Thompson, US culture is full of references to this mythical rite of passage. One line in The Lost Continent sticks in my mind, “for me, from here to Bozeman was a monotuous 5 hour drive across empty plains, whereas you dear reader simply turn the page”.

I had always wanted to do more that just turn the page, I wanted to drive 5 monotuous hours. And I did. Although it wasn’t that monotuous and the total distance I did in the 10 day trip would have barely got me from coast to coast had I driven in straight line, but that didn’t matter. I’d already driven from Orange County up to San Francisco, but this was the big, The American West. It was just me, a rented Pontiac G5, a woefully insufficient sleeping bag, 10 roadtrip CDs and 12 cereal bars. I loved it.

Having a deadline to stick to for the first time in what felt like a very long time I broke my normal protocol and actually did some planning (rather than my usual “I dunno” method of travelling) using my trusty and (now) ripped Rand McNally West Coast map, so I had a vague idea of the distances and the things I wanted to see. Arriving in Seattle from Ketchikan, I went to see a baseball game, Mariners vs Yankees (4-2 Yankees), sat in horrendous postgame traffic and was away from Seattle by about midnight. I drove for about an hour and a half in the dark and rain until I could take it no more and I stopped overnight in a ski resort whose name escapes me – it was something like Cle Elum which sounds unlikely but it was, honest.

I was away at 8am on a bright sunny Saturday morning and hit I-90 East and drove. And drove. It took me until past lunchtime to get past Spokane and out of Washington State. I was starting to to get an idea of ther task ahead of me. As cliched as it sounds, when I stopped for breakfast about an hour into the day I had the Oh Shit moment of looking at the map and comparing the distance travelled since Seattle (like half an inch) and the distance I had left in front of me (about 7 feet). No time for a coffee refill my son, get motoring. East Washington was pretty dull scenery-wise but things started getting interesting once I crossed into Idaho. The land rose and fell and the hillsides were covered in pine forests. It would stay that way for the next 5 days or so. Idaho didn’t last long and soon I crossed the Continental Divide into Montana. I also effectively lost an hour as I entered Mountain Time and the clocks went forward, one less hour on the road, oh no!

I had heard about the 50,000 Dollar Saloon from the bikers on the boat and true enough, it did what it says on the tin. There is indeed a Saloon with over 50,000 Silver Dollars attached to the walls. What else? But I didn’t stop long, I had miles to cover. I stopped in Missoula at around 5 for some lunch/dinner (lunner?) and then did the final 100 miles of the day across some incredible open countryside (this is Big Sky Country after all) and with the sun disappearing behind me I found a motel room in Butte and collapsed onto the bed, after a long 526 mile day.

The next morning I was up early (for me) and headed off, back on I-90 towards Yellowstone. I drove the first 80 miles or so in virtual solitude, barely seeing a soul. As it was getting to coffee break time I spotted a sign off the freeway saying Yellowstone National Park – I had intended on staying on the freeway until Bozeman so this was a novel idea. There was also a service station at the exit which decided me, so trying to check my GPS, look at my map and deciding what I wanted for breakfast I swerved onto the offramp. At the top, was a Stop sign and a pickup truck bearing down on me from the left so I braked somewhat sharply, let the truck past and then turned right.

As I glanced in my rear-view mirror for what must have been the first time in a while, I couldn’t help but notice that the entire view was full of bright, pretty, flashing blue lights. Believe or not, I’ve never been stopped by the police before, anywhere, let alone in Montana, but even so I managed to put 2 and 2 together and realise that, given their proximity, these particular lights had to be for me. Gulp. I pulled over, and having seen plenty of episodes of America’s Most Moronic Police Chases, simply wound my window down and waited for the gun-toting Law Enforcement Officer to scream at me to throw my keys out of the window and exit the vehicle with my hands up.

OK, I’m being a bit flippant, in reality I did kind of have a lump in my stomach. He strolled up, wished me a Good Morning (it was still only around 8am) asked for my licence and vehicle registration. I dutifully handed this over, shaking only slightly, and he asked me to get out of the car and come sit in his. As we walked over, he told me that I had been going a little bit fast (phew, so it wasn’t that the car had been registered as stolen) and that he was going to give me a warning. Yay! No ticket, the lump disappeared and I began to enjoy the experience. Sat in his nice warm car, he told me that I had been doing 81 (speed limit 75) and I needed to keep it down a bit. He was actually very nice and chatty. Asking me how I was enjoying my trip and where I was planning to head to next. The Swiss driving licence threw him a bit, especially as I had told him I was from London (it’s much easier to explain than Dorset), but it was all good in the hood and I got a little souvenir warning from the Montana State Troopers department. He even asked me how many official languages there are in Switzerland. Nice to share some knowledge around. I then asked him the best way to Yellowstone, and before I know it I was back in my own car, on my merry way.

The Guardian has published its Readers Travel Awards 2009 – of the 5 winners in the Best Overseas Travel Destination:

1. Iguazu Falls
2. Macchu Pichu
3. Ankgor Temples
4. Grand Canyon
5. Great Barrier Reef

I’ve been to 3 of ‘em in the last year.

My Top 5 is, in approximate order:

1. Macchu Picchu, Peru

2. Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia

3. Perito Moreno Glacier, Patagonia

4. Monument Valley, Arizona

5. Ilha Grande, Brasil

After my run-in with the law on I-90 I decided to leave it after 600 miles and headed across Montana the 100 miles or so to Yellowstone. I wanted to get there as early as I could as I was planning on camping and I didn’t have a reservation. I stopped for breakfast in Ennis, MT which was a real little Wild West place, the waitress called me Honey as she refilled my coffee. Although I did manage to find (steal?) a Wi-Fi network so I could update my Facebook status, very important for today’s traveller.

I stopped briefly at the nicely rhyming Earthquake Lake, formed after a massive earthquake blocked the Madison River, a reminder of the geological instability of the area. It all looked very benign, but the dead trees still sticking out of the water were a bit erie.

So onto Yellowstone proper. I had heard about the huge crowds and sure enough about 10 minutes past the gate (free entry day, yay!) the traffice ground to a halt. Having a huge camper van thing in front of me I couldn’t see what was holding us up, so I was just calmly sitting there when, from behind the camper van, two bloody enormous great buffaloes lumbered past the car. As you can imagine, frightened the living hell out of me. They looked at me with their big crazy staring eyes and carried on their merry way past the traffic jam. Very Yellowstone.

My first night was not a great success. In order to keep costs down, I had bought a cheap sleeping bag when I purchased the tent in Ketchikan, thinking, it’s Summer, it’ll do. I’ll let you into a little secret, it didn’t do. Not by a long chalk. Yes, the calendar read August, but I hadn’t really taken into consideration that Yellowstone is over 2000m above sea level. I have never been so cold in all my life. At 3am I had to get into the car and turn the heating on. I ended up sleeping the rest of the night in the car. Not a happy camper. I did get to see the stars though – I’ve only seen the Milky Way twice and both times I was absolutely freezing and high up, the first time being at 4300m in Bolivia.

I liked Yellowstone, the landscape was on the pretty side, rather than stunning, and every couple of miles you see clouds of steam appearing above the trees, making it look kind of other-worldly. I joined 15000 other tourists and watched Old Faithful do its old, faithful thing and then I went for a walk (all the while singing out loud as recommended in my Bear Aware pamphlet) to the Lone Star Geyser which erupts every 3 hours or so. I timed it nicely and got there about 30 minutes before it erupted. Whereas Old Faithful shoots high, it only goes for about a minute, this one went on for nearly 20 minutes, very cool.

After this, I went to West Yellowstone to buy a proper sleeping bag and watched the sunset over the Madison River, and very beautiful it was too.

The great US roadtrip has such a romantic image, and whilst not entirely the case (I’m sure Kerouac never got stuck in roadworks on the I-80), it is proving to be quite an experience. I’m currently St George, Utah (and won’t be returning after backing gently into somebody’s car earlier and driving off like a coward) and have two more days until the car has to be back in LA. I’ll write up some stuff later but for the time being here are some jontyjago roadtrip stats:

Miles driven so far: 2,245
Days since leaving Seattle: 8
National Parks visited: 5
People who have asked if I’m Australian after hearing me speak: 7
Most miles in one day: 526
Nights spent under canvas: 4
Nights spent warmly under canvas: 3 (nobody told me Yellowstone would be below zero in sumertime)
Favourite beer: Moose Drool
Favourite sign: LOTTO GUNS AMMO BEER
Favourite town name: Smoot, Wyoming
Times stopped for speeding: 1
Tickets for speeding: 0
Breakfast of choice: 2 eggs up, hash browns, english muffin & coffee
Best meal: A fresh Garden Wrap and soup in San Juan River Cafe, Bluff, UT
Worst meal: Packet of Doritos
Bears seen: 2
Elk seen: 15
Bald Eagles seen: 1
SUVs been tailgated by: 4,327 (approx)
Hottest temp according to the car: 101F (somewhere in Arizona)
Coldest temp according to the car: 26F (Yellowstone)
Times been over the speed limit after being stopped for speeding: Only a couple
Longest stretch of straight road: something like 12 miles in Arizona
States visited: 6 (Washington, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Utah, Arizona)
States left to visit: 2 (Nevada and California)

Biggest “Holy Shit, look at that!” moment: Coming over the hill and seeing Monument Valley