A warm east coast welcome.

Ah, the east coast just as I left it: rainy. Two days of patchy rain so far, but I can't really complain. I'm just happy to still be standing under my own power. I've been pretty tired, have had a nasty sore throat and my swollen glands have me looking like the elephant man, but otherwise my spirits are up. I was able to ride a good 100 miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway before getting on the highway to make better time on my way to Charlottesville. Here I was able to grab dinner with an incredibly interesting and genuinely cool lady, Melissa, who I connected with via the couch surfing website. Like me she is a self proclaimed nerd which made for a truly engaging conversation about all things scientific. It was honestly the highlight of my night. Once she found out I work for Gillette, we talked in great detail about the nuances of making razor blades (don't worry P&G, it was nothing you couldn't see on "How it's made"). Plus, I had probably the best bowl of chicken tortilla soup in my life. So, overall a good night. Unfortunately, when I woke up this morning I had probably the worst sore throat of my life, so I'm afraid my defenses are starting to weaken. My power of will has served me well so far, but I should probably get home to CT asap. For this reason I opted to skip the Skyline Highway through Shanendoah National Park which is too bad because it looked to be truly amazing. At least this gives me an excuse to come down to the DC area to do the ride again in a healthier state. So, one day in DC to see a few friends, then just 5 and a half hours until I am home and can get some much needed rest.

P.S. I just wanted to acknowledge and say thanks to all my friends at home and on the road who have sent me their well wishes given my situation with being sick and far from home. It has really helped me keep a positive attitude. That, and I was amazed that all my DC area friends still offered me places to stay despite being sick. I know it didn't work out to get see all of you while I was down here, but it was still appreciated, and mark my words, I shall return.

When life hands you mono, make lemonoade

I had two days of riding to come up with the title for this post. Those were two long, frustrating days, but I'm glad to say that I think I have finally come to terms with it. In case you weren't able to guess from the title, I was diagnosed as having mono the other day in Mississippi. Crazy, I know. I started the trip with strep, and am ending it with mono. That's some seriously shitty luck. And, I'd be lying if I said it didn't really bother me. At my worst moments it damn near dismantled me. I am so damn close to finishing this trip, the last thing I want is any regret for not being able to end it on my own terms.

For those interested in hearing the story in a little more detail, I started to get a swelling in the lymph node in my neck somewhere in the vicinity of New Mexico. It was minor until I got to Austin and couldn't help but notice the lemon sized lump protruding from my neck. I just assumed (and the internet agreed) that it was an after effect of the strep. But, when I woke up two days ago and not only had the swelling not gone down, but it was accompanied with a swollen red throat I decided I'd better find a walk in clinic. After a handful of tests the worst possible result came back: positive for mono. The doctor said that normally treatment is lots of fluids and bed rest, but that's not exactly something I am capable of at the moment. At first I just laughed about it, unable to believe my luck. I decided the best plan would be to get home as quickly as possible and hop on the first interstate heading north, effectively cancelling the last week and a half of the trip. I could only hope that I could make it close to home before the worst symptoms kicked in. However, when the time finally came to hop on I-65 in Alabama I can only describe it as heartbreaking. I wanted so badly to see the beaches of the gulf coast, and I had lined up two really awesome couch surfing hosts followed by a weekend of catching up with friends in various cities up the East coast. Not to mention, I had been looking forward to riding the Blue Ridge Parkway through the Appalachian mountains all trip. I think that was just too much for me to handle, which is why I decided to say "fuck mono" (sorry for the cursing), and turned the bike back Eastward. The fact of the matter is it has been two days and the worst symptoms are yet to show up. No loss of appetite, no nausea, no painful or enlarged spleen, no more fatigue than is standard after 8 hours on the bike. Honestly, the worst thing I had to endure (other than this friggin lump on the side of my neck) was the depression and anger over cutting the trip short, and that went away as soon as I got things back on track.I can't really explain it, but finishing the trip as planned, or rather, as closely to planned as possible, felt like the only option. I'm still pissed off that I may never have a chance to motorcycle through Savannah or camp on the gulf coast, but I just have to chalk that up to bad luck now.

Anyway, so the current plan is to finish up the Blue Ridge Parkway the next two days, which has been gorgeous so far, ultimately dumping me off in DC by Thursday. Then its on to see some old friends who hopefully won't turn me away due to my "condition" (although, honestly who could blame them if they did), then one last push to Connecticut to be poked and prodded by Doctors. Oh, and that reminds me of the thing that really aggravates me the most. I've been wanting so badly to hang out with my nephew who is finally crawling, and I'm probably going to be put in quarantine instead. I just can't catch a break. Oh well. Here are some nice pictures of the majestic smokey mountains to take my mind off of it.

Well, it turns out that my helmet camera must have turned on in my bag overnight because now instead of having some amazing pictures of the smokey mountains I have roughly 8,000 pictures of blackness. I swear things are just going to keep getting worse before they get better. At least I did stop to take a couple of shots with my handheld camera, so, here you go.

The rolling smokeys

A little comic relief. Q: What do you get from riding through abundant sunshine in the desert on a motorcycle? A: Some sweet glove tan lines.

Land of a million pickup trucks

Austin really is a liberal oasis in a land of right wing conservatives. For example, on the drive here I passed numerous bible camps, saw a sign that said "liberals not welcome", and have literally seen more pickup trucks than people. By contrast, last night while strolling through the city, Nick and I overheard a bike pedicab driver explaining to his passenger (whether she wanted to hear it or not) how religious confession was not dictated by the bible, but rather was created by the priests so they could "keep tabs" on you. I got a chuckle out of this.

So far Austin is a pretty cool city though. Lots of good bars with good music, laid back people; as the guy at the front desk of our hostel put it, change all the sunny days in Austin into rainy ones, and you'd have Portland. I'd have to agree. So far Nick and I have been able to sample the local BBQ, check out a few live bands, see the Capital. I'll probably keep this post short though because we are on our way out to catch the Bruins game now, then it's on to Louisiana early tomorrow morning. Ciao.

Update: We just got back from a night out on sixth street, and it was a lot of fun. I can totally understand why they call this the live music capital of the world. It's just so strange to see the transformation of the downtown area from very quiet and boring during the day to just an absolutely miasma of people at night. We got to see a phenomenal blues band perform in a little bar while we watched the game and drank cheap beer. Essentially, it was my ideal Austin experience. And to cap off the night I had a chili dog from a street vendor that absolutely hit the spot. I will certainly be going to bed tonight with a smile on my face.

Some like it hot...

...but I am not one of those people. Before I get into describing what it feels like to ride your motorcycle through an oven, let me sum up my time in LA.

LA is a prison. Most people just don't realize it because its so damn expansive and pretty. Don't get me wrong, it really is an amazing place. There is so much to see and do, and being in Manhattan Beach was great. The beaches were gorgeous, the food was excellent and the weather was perfect. What I could do without though was the traffic. What an aboslute mess. This brings me back to my original statement of LA being a prison. There is practically zero public transportation, so to go anywhere you are at the whim of the traffic, which is rush hour almost 24/7. Therefore, you really have to be motivated to go anywhere outside of the little corner of LA you call home. Eventually, I imagine, people just give up and stick to their usually neighborhoods. Trapped. Like mice in the maze.

I'd have to say the highlight of my trip was getting to spend the day with my high school friend Nick. Not only did he take the day off from work to hang out with me, but he was an enthusiastic and knowledgeable tour guide driving me all over the place to give me the full LA experience. We did lots of typical tourist stuff, and capped of an excellent day with dinner in the city with another high school friend/California transplant. Throughout the day though, I found Nick's perspective on the city most interesting. He summed up Socal culture in one word that I found extremely apt: status. It is so incredibly flashy here, and it seems the sole purpose of each individual is to prove their superiority to those around them whether it be by where they live, the car they drive or the suit they wear. In short, a nice place to visit, but not somewhere I'd like to live. I have such respect for Nick though. He has always had such a solid understanding of how the world works; not only has he figured out LA, but with some hard work he has managed to turn the tables and let the city provide for him. Classic Nick. He seems very happy, which makes me happy for him.

Obligatory (sideways) Randy's Donuts pic. Sorry, too lazy to crop and rotate.

Now, on to Arizona, or as I like to call it, the Devil's butt crack. I'm so glad that part of the trip is behind me. The temperature in Phoenix hit 109 degrees, and it stayed well into the 100s even into the twilight hours, which translates to no escaping the heat. Here's a quick lesson in heat transfer to give you an idea of how miserable it was:

For heat to flow from one medium to another a temperature gradient must exist. That is, regardless of the mode of heat transfer (i.e. radiation, convection, conduction) there must be a difference in temperature so that the heat can flow from the hotter source to the cooler receiver. Considering that my body temperature is about 98.6 degrees on any given day, and the air around me was over ten degrees hotter, that means that even cruising down the highway at 75 mph the air around me provided no cooling sensation, but rather made me hotter. It may have been disgusting, but I actually found relief when bugs on the highway would crash into my bare arms (I had to strap my riding jacket to the back of the bike) exploding in a cool burst of moisture, and then gone, completely obliterated. I had to stop every hour to choke down some of the boiling hot water I kept on the bike with me just to stay hydrated, but after getting a little dizzy at midday, I decided to play it safe and stop every half hour instead. Three days of this felt more like three weeks, but thankfully I made it to Austin where I am sitting here writing this now. I've met up with my best friend (also Nick), and we are about to head out to explore the city. Updates of our adventures to follow.

Revelation Big Sur

The big draw of California is supposed to be the sunny skies and consistently comfortable temperatures, or so I've been told. My experience thus far hasn't quite lived up to the hype. I've seen a range of 90 heat near Modesto, followed by overcast skies and 58 degrees by the coast less than two hours later. This made for a less than ideal experience cruising through Big Sur, which was unfortunate since I had built it up so much in my head. Don't get me wrong, it was still a very pretty ride, but road was full of drivers more focused on watching the scenery than the road, and to be honest I thought the Pacific Coast Highway North of San Francisco was just as scenic. Still, despite being chilled to the bone afterward, I'm still glad I can say that I did it at least once. Not to mention, I stopped midway through to eat a bag of the best bing cherries I've ever had. They were probably so good because they were picked literally twenty feet from where I purchased them.

Before I go bad mouthing California too much, let me talk about Yosemite. Actually, whatever I say simply won't do it justice, so I will just call it spectacular and leave it at that. You simply have to see it for yourself. Like the Grand Canyon, pictures do not even come close to capturing the immensity or natural beauty of it. It all makes you feel pretty insignificant to be honest, but not in a bad way. Just knowing that you are part of something bigger by contrast makes you feel lucky. So, with that being said, here are a few pictures anyway.

One last thing before I go. I chose the title for this post based on a song of the same name. It is one of the most beautiful songs I know, and it was running through my head the entire time I drove down the coastal highway. It seems like the perfect soundtrack to view these pictures by, so now I'm sharing it with you to enjoy as well. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kx6Zkb89KZE

Now, on to spending the day in LA with my friend Nick. Hopefully a post will follow tonight recounting our exploits. Cheers.

San Fran

San Francisco is a truly beautiful city. Approaching from the north the Golden Gate sneaks up on you (or rather, you on it) as it is obscured by the hills until you are almost on top of it. It certainly is a tremendous bridge with an equally impressive view of the city that looms bright and hilly in the distance. I spent most of my day doing cliched touristy stuff, i.e. visiting Coit Tower, Fisherman's Wharf and Haight St. However, despite its grandeur San Fran is missing one thing. It's not home. Having seen so many fantastic cities so far on this trip I am amazed at how unique each of them is. In my naivety I used to think a city was a city was a city, and so on, but I am quickly realizing that each has it's own feel and character. On paper most of these places seem to have the leg up on Boston, but there is something intangible about it, something familiar that I can't quite put my finger on. Maybe I'm just homesick, but I suddenly feel very alone here. I am really looking forward to LA to see my good friend from high school, but first a day at Yosemite and Big Sur, respectively. Hopefully some more American Beauty can cure what ails me. I'll be sure to check in again once I'm in LA. In the meantime, to any of my friends back home who are reading this, I miss you all.

The Golden Gate at the end of the day.

View of the skyline from atop Telegraph Hill.

Too hip to quit

It seems I have some catching up to do. Camping on the Oregon/California coast has left me with a shortage of internets, and an abundance of pictures, so bear with me as I try to get it all organized in blog form.

First, some thoughts to summarize my time spent in Portland; I definitely lucked out on the timing of being there, and that my couch surfing host was really nice and fun to hang out with. Ultimately, I got to do a lot of the standard touristy type stuff: eat at Voodoo Doughnuts, where I had a "Portland Creme" doughnut which looked/tasted suspiciously like a Boston Creme (sorry, but I still prefer Dunkin anyday), go to Powell's books store, hang out at the Rose Festival, ride a bike alongside scores of naked people, get a lofty parking citation. The unanticipated highlight of the trip was that I got to stay on the same street that one of my favorite musicians, Elliott Smith, used to live on, which also happened to be his adopted namesake. However, despite liking Portland in both atmosphere and layout, there was one thing that bothered me while I was there: it is so damned cliched and predictable. Everywhere you looked you were surrounded by hipster archetypes. That is, nearly every guy rode a bike or a cafe racer style motorcycle, wore thrift store clothes and had weird old timey facial hair, and nearly every girl had sleeve tattoos, wore bangs and worked as a barista. I, by contrast, was hopelessly normal looking, (although I doubt that will stop the people at work from calling me a self hating hipster. Also, I realize I use hyperbole here to convey the image of a very hip city, but obviously it is an exaggeration to say that every girl here is a barista. And, just to be clear, this is not meant to put down Portland for it's hipster ways. On the contrary, I rather liked its laid back attitude. I just don't think I'd fit in here in the long run).

Elliott with two T's

Two more observations about Portland. One, apparently, much like New Jersey, you are not allowed to pump your own gas here. This in general I find to be incredibly unnecessary and obnoxious, but when on a motorcycle the whole process becomes an excercise in the assanine. Here is roughly how the filling of one's tank goes if you are on a bike. 1) Pull up to pump and wait for an attendant to walk up. If they are busy with other customers or just MIA, you are out of luck and just have to be patient. 2) When Pumpy Magee does finally show up you hand them your credit card and tell them what grade you want so that they can swipe the card and push the button for you. 3) This is my favorite part: they hand you the nozzle and let you fill it yourself! Why?!?!? When I asked, the answer was that it is simply easier for you to do that part. (I like to imagine Lewis Black reading this and having one of his characteristic freakouts at this point). Oh, and the second observation, there are a lot of strip clubs in that city. Like, a lot.

About an hour or so West of Portland I was finally able to get to the Pacific Ocean. It was absolutely breathtaking, and quite frankly, what I've been waiting my whole life to see. Although, that cool ocean air made for quite a chilly ride. I took the opportunity to check out the sea lion caves which were interesting, but a little anticlimactic and probably not worth the $14 admission. I couldn't even stay that long because the stench was so unbearable. Fast forward a couple hundred miles and I crossed into California to be greeted almost immediately by Redwood National Park. All I can say is those be some big trees. I was able to hop off the 101 freeway and onto the Avenue of Giants for a bit to get some pretty good pictures. These things are so gargantuan that they literally block out all the sun in some patches of the forest making it a dark and eerie, not to mention brisk, ride. I ended up skipping out on seeing the drive thru tree, but instead cut towards the coast on the route 1 coastal highway, which was probably one of the windiest roads I've ever been on with my motorcycle. After 25 miles of tight corners and hairpin turns I was rewarded with this ocean view and a near empty campground at which to spend the night. Luckily the gorgeous scenary distracted me from the fact that it was so windy that my toes were numb by the end of the night and I hardly got any sleep. Still, the amazing ride that followed, which has deposited me into my current location at Point Reyes just North of San Francisco kept my spirits up even if I did need an emergency infusion of Red Bull mid way through the ride. It's effects are certainly wearing off now though, and I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow in San Fran, so now I'm going to sleep.

A stinky seal in his stinky cave.

Sorry I couldn't get in the picture for scale, but trust me, there's a lot of junk in that trunk.

Sunset over my beachside camp.

What the hell is a maneuvering zone?

So far Portland has been pretty cool. I've met some very friendly and interesting people, have seen enough hipsters to last a lifetime, and ate a gyro the size of my head. The only blemish on the day so far has been the $80 ticket I got for parking in a maneuvering zone, whatever the heck that is. There goes all the money I saved from couchsurfing. Meh.

I really like the layout of the city. It's organized as a grid, but it is not incredibly dense, which kind of reminds me of a much less congested NYC. This allows for lots of residential neighborhoods with cool bars and shops mixed in. This is also a city designed with bikers in mind, and they certainly take advantage of it. Actually, by pure coincidence (I swear), I happened to be here the night of the annual naked bike ride. That made for a memory of Portland that I definitely won't be forgetting, even if I tried. Truth be told though, I am getting kind of antsy to get on the road again. Tomorrow I start down the Pacific Coast Highway, which I have really been looking forward to, so that should be good. Maybe if I'm lucky I'll get a chance to try Voodoo doughnuts for breakfast tomorrow considering the line there today stretched around the block. We shall see.

Boise, not bad

I've got a little time to kill today, so I might actually be able to put in the effort to write a proper post. Up until now I've been throwing them together while fighting off sleep after a full day on the bike. All in all, things are going really well though. Now that I'm a few weeks in the initial anxiety I was feeling has given way to genuine excitement. It doesn't hurt that the weather has really taken a turn for the better; nothing but blue skies and sunshine since Iowa, which has been key. It's amazing how dependent your mood is based on the weather when you are on a motorcycle. Hopefully things keep up like this for a while.

After leaving Wyoming I made pretty good time crossing the mostly barren landscape of Idaho, getting into Boise with a few hours to spare. I killed time by stopping at the Levis outlet to pick up a new pair of jeans. As you can see in the picture below, I took this pair about as far as they would go. I was a little disappointed because this was my favorite pair of jeans, and I've had them for less than two years. I even bought a cheap sewing kit and patched them up a few times, but I guess it just wasn't meant to be. At the very least I was hoping to keep them on life support until I made it to San Francisco where I could stop by Levis headquarters and complain to Chip Bergh (former Gillette President, current Levis C.E.O). At least then maybe I could have gotten a refund, or a sweet Canadian tuxedo out of the deal.

Crotch Shot (Warning: Adult Content)

I've got to say, Boise was a pleasant surprise. I wasn't sure what to expect, but my parting impression is that its a pretty cool city. To be fair though, I am probably a little bit biased due to the fact that it was gorgeous weather and I had an amazing couch surfing host. It was my first ever couch surfing experience, and it really couldn't have gone better. My host Jaimie was so incredibly friendly and accommodating (not to mention super cool). She's set the bar pretty high, so I'm hoping I have similarly great couch surfing experiences in the future. Mostly I hope she makes good on her promise to come visit Boston though so I get the chance to hang out with her again.

Jaimie and I posing for a selfie.

Once Boise was behind me I was quickly into Oregon and passed across another time zone. It's funny how our preconceived notions about unfamiliar places are mostly shaped by TV and Hollywood. Case in point, I was expecting Oregon to be nothing but pine forests as soon as I hit the border. In reality I didn't see a single one until I was three or four hours in. Instead, it looked more like I would expect Utah or Nevada to look, with lots of rock formations and prairie. Eventually I did make it to the greener side of the state, but this trip has been educational to say the least. I ended up arriving at my randomly selected campground with an abundance of daylight hours thanks to the time change. I've got to tell you, I hit the jackpot with this campground through pure luck. It was nestled behind an absolutely gorgeous, pristine blue, man made lake, and it was early enough in the season that I had my pick of the open campsites. I didn't even bother putting my rainfly up over my hammock for the night since there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Definitely a good night.

Entrance to Cove Palisades State Park (please excuse the smooshed bug guts on the lens of the camera).

Home sweet campsite.

Onward to Portland! Stay tuned for my first impressions of this hipster mecca.

Another day, another national park (or two)

Jackson, Wyoming might just be my new favorite place. It is great here. So much natural beauty and a cool little town to hang out in. I spent most of the day on the bike touring Yellowstone and Grand Teton national parks. Yellowstone was nice (although really really big), and I got to see old faithful do its thing. However, Grand Teton takes the cake; it might just be my favorite thing on this trip so far. As you drive out of Jackson, you come around the bend and BAM, out of nowhere there is this absolutely majestic range of mountains. When you get into the actual park it only gets more picturesque with a pristine blue lake at the mountains base.

I had a few people in awe of the fact that I came all the way out from Massachusetts. There were a few good conversations with nice folks after they spotted my license plate. And, Bonnie got a few compliments as well, but she's used to that.

Next stop Boise. Probably won't have internet for a few days, so don't expect a post for a little while.

Old Faithful doing its thing, and right on time.

Bonnie posing in front of the Tetons.

Being here is like living in a postcard.

Rocky Mountain National Park, then a whole lot of nothing in Wyoming

I'll keep this post short since I need to get up early tomorrow, but I spent the morning driving through Rocky Mountain National Park, and it was gorgeous. I took about a billion pictures, but I will post a few just to give you a taste. The pictures don't really do it justice

With the exception of a run in with some cattle and some real life cowboys, Wyoming has been pretty (extremely) boring so far. Grand Teton and Yellowstone tomorrow should change that though.

Greetings from Love-Love Land

I just got back from dinner in Loveland, CO where I was fortunate enough to watch the Bruins put a hurting on the Penguins, even if it did make me a little homesick. Loveland is right at the base of the Rocky Mountains, and they really are impressive. I wish I could have gotten a picture of them at dusk just now, it was quite nice. The weather has really changed quite a bit over the past couple of days. Iowa West of Des Moines never got out of the 50s, Nebraska was warm and sunny the whole way, and Colorado hit 90 degrees today. It was kind of a pain to have to keep stopping to change my gear, but I can't complain about cloudless skies, especially after the past week.

View from the road in Iowa

Last night I ended up finding a nice little nook in a rest stop to camp out in. It was wooded with shelters, a bathroom facility on site, and the best part...

...it came with it's own 6 AM wake up call.

Cutting through the Rockies tomorrow, then up to Yellowstone. Hopefully I'll have internet while I'm up there, but if not I'll try to post something when I get to Boise.

Suicidal squirrels, obnoxious trains, and how I survived my first mid western mega storm

Not much about this trip has gone according to plan so far. I opted to meet up early with my friend Rob in Milan, Ohio so that our trip across the midwest would be a little less lonely. I'm glad I did, because this place sucks. It's all flat, boring riding and we haven't even gotten to Iowa yet. Not to mention, the squirrels out here are either extra stupid or extra brave because I swear I had a game of chicken with one the other day that was for the ages; it just starred us down as I went to the right and Rob went to the left, didn't move at all until we were past it.

I also realize that I said I wouldn't be posting for a while due to lack of internet, but I find myself again in a motel for the night at the will of another storm. This one was pretty epic though with 80 mph gust of wind, lightning and downpour. We were lucky to be able to find shelter when we did, but everything worked out. The only downside is the motel we are at is right next to train tracks on which a freight train would pass every hour on the hour and would announce its presen
ce by blowing its whistle right outside our window. So, needless to say, the next couple of days are going to be long ones. Once we get past the plains things should pick up though.