The Last Leg

Full disclosure: I'm sitting on an Amtrak train headed to Rhode Island after having been home for a full day...it feels pretty weird. But I'll get to all that stuff later because, per usual, I have to squeeze a lot of experiences into this post:

Mount Rushmore/Pine Ridge/Badlands

We woke up in Rapid City, SD on the morning of the 27th and quickly prepared ourselves for one of our longest, most grueling days. First up, we drove half an hour to Mt. Rushmore National Monument. Skyler and I both had very negative feelings about the site. Everything about the monument, from idea to execution to legacy, is very flawed and borderline disgraceful. First and foremost, the Black Hills of South Dakota--the site's location--is sacred land for the Oglala Lakota tribe who have inhabited it for thousands of years. When I say sacred land, here's what I mean: the Black Hills are the center of the Lakota's spiritual universe. It is where they believe the Great Spirit gave birth to the human race. The land belonged to the Lakota tribe, even after Anglo-Americans had expanded westward. The US government had signed multiple treaties designating the Black Hills as Indian land, but those treaties and countless others, were shamelessly broken by our expansionist government.

Here's one American's take on the land grab at the time:

I know of no other instance in history where a great nation has so shamefully violated its oath. Our country must forever bear the disgrace and suffer the retribution of its wrongdoing. Our children's children will tell the sad story in hushed tones, and wonder how their fathers dared so to trample on justice and trifle with God.

—Henry Benjamin Whipple, chairman of Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA), on the taking of the Black Hills; statements made in official BIA report

But the fundamental theft that gave birth to Rushmore is only the preface to its much more deplorable existence. In the early 20th century, a South Dakotan historian proposed sculpting a massive series of monuments into the Black Hills in an attempt to attract tourists into the state, which certainly needed the economic boost at the time. Gutzon Borglum, a mainstay in Washington DC who often sculpted Presidents, Senators and Congressmen alike, was the first to make the journey to SD to scope out the site. Soon after Borglum's arrival, the monument' purpose drastically shifted. It was no longer about the state of South Dakota, future tourism, or even the legacies of the men it seeks to honor--the monument became entirely about Borglum.

I'll leave out the details, but this guy was comically egomaniacal. He was a control-freak, hyper-ambitious and prone to call FDR when local South Dakotans were objecting to his way of doing things (it's what toddlers do when they have a fight with their brothers: they run to mommy or daddy). Most alarming was Borglum's strange obsession with immortalizing the four Presidents. His goal was to create a monument that would last for all eternity, one that would serve as an unending reminder of the greatness of our nation and its forefathers for all future generations of human beings. He wrote romantically that this enormous sculpture would stand for "10,000 years," symbolizing the nation's ideals and its glory.

Does this sound incredibly insecure to anyone else, or am I taking crazy pills over here? To me, this is American exceptionalism at its worst. This is where the perpetual 'city on a hill' mentality really turns ugly, contradictory and comically pathetic. If that monument stands as a symbol of my country's ideals, then I must concede that I am ashamed to be a citizen of this country. WE STOLE THE LAND. Beautiful land, worthy of humble inhabitants, which it once had. In a campaign of virulent, aggressive genocide, we took this land and destroyed its beauty by sandblasting the face of four white men into the mountainside. And most depressingly, it is inherently inauthentic. It's nothing more than a fabricated pilgrimage site of misguided American patriotism.

Needless to say, seeing Rushmore was a tough way to start the day. Skyler and I spent some time in the museum (which unsurprisingly presented a skewed view of its history) and then we were on our way.

Our day was an intentional juxtaposition. We drove from Rushmore to Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, one of the largest reservations in the country and also one of the most destitute. We bumped along the BIA Highways (Bureau of Indian Affairs) for two hours until we finally arrived at our first destination: Bette's Kitchen. The name of the site is self-explanatory, although perhaps a better description would simply be "Bette's Home." Here, a kind elderly woman named Bette has served food to her neighbors and outside visitors for over 15 years. It can't be described as a restaurant; quite frankly, there really are no restaurants on the reservation. When she began the business, she welcomed people into her small home, told them what she had in her fridge and what she could cook them. Over the years, she began receiving more customers and she formed a regular menu. But even after instituting a menu, Bette's Kitchen doesn't look any more like a restaurant.

Bette is the great-granddaughter of Black Elk, a very important member of the Lakota community. As one of the few survivors of the Wounded Knee Massacre of 1890, Black Elk provided the only documented history of the events. His oral testimony is cited in Dee Brown's "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee," and is the subject of "Black Elk Speaks." Old photos of Black Elk, along with other ancestors and descendants, cover the walls of Bette's home. The walls as well as the home itself reveal how important family is to Bette. Children, grand-children and even one great-grandchild wandered in and out of the house as we ate (Skyler had a grilled cheese and I had a BLT). We and one Native American family were the last customers of the day--she's only open for lunch.

Bette was busy, but very nice nonetheless. While we didn't have a long conversation, her home and what fills its spoke very well for her life and her community. Before we left, Bette had us sign our names in an enormous guestbook which revealed that hundreds of folks from all across the country had ventured out to eat in her home. It only dated back to 2010 which means hundreds if not thousands of others had visited before she began keeping the record.

After Bette's we took a short drive to Wounded Knee which is a very small town within the reservation. It consists of a few stores, a church, a mass grave site and cemetery, and an open pasture--the site of the 1890 massacre. We arrived at the open pasture, which was marked by a large sign that detailed the history of the killings. Eventually, we made our way down to a small, make-shift visitors information stand where two residents of the reservation provided a thorough history of the events, aided with old photos and newspaper excerpts.

After a few questions, they were no longer giving their standard script; instead, they were sharing personal anecdotes and opinions with us. It was particularly cool to hear one woman's experiences during the American Indian Movement's occupation of Wounded Knee in 1973. They also expressed a genuine and warranted mistrust of the US government, citing concern over new government plans to build a grocery store in the town which they believe could be a pit-stop for truckers headed to the future Keystone Pipeline. They referred to the project as a "third Wounded Knee" or a third attempt at exterminating the Lakota tribe. While their fears seem irrational from our perspective, they must be understood in a specific context. Given the traumatizing relationship that the Lakota have endured and continue to endure with the US government, those fears are completely valid and legitimate.

When we were with Todd Wilkinson in Bozeman, MT, he explained to us that many residents on the reservation were "sick and tired" of having journalists come onto their reservation only to report on the domestic violence, alcoholism, gambling and unemployment. He believes that the resilience of these communities is too often overlooked by outsiders. Interestingly enough, the woman that spoke to us at Wounded Knee shared similar feelings. She was open about her community's experience with alcoholism, drug abuse and violence. But she declared with pride that, "this was a good year" for her family and for Pine Ridge. She cited various examples of projects and events that had taken place, and then told us about her grandson who was flying to Phoenix, AZ to play in the annual Native American Basketball Showcase for the top Native American high school basketball players in the country. Most powerfully, she made it clear that community's fundamental spiritual and cultural values continue to thrive despite years of genocide and forced assimilation. "We are poor but we are rich in heritage," she explained. It was one of the final things she said to us before we parted ways.

After a 30-40 minute conversation with these two very nice and helpful folks, I bought a dreamcatcher and then Skyler and I headed up to the mass grave site on top of the hill. The slope also happens to be the site of the climactic standoff of the 1973 occupation in which a few people were shot and killed. Today, there is a marked-off area containing the mass grave site which is surrounded by graves of various community members. Skyler and I were both surprised to see how many veterans were buried in the cemetery. Later that day, we found out that Native Americans--more than any other ethnicity in this country--have the highest percentage of combat military service within their population. That's another sacrifice that quite clearly has not been repaid or rewarded.

From Wounded Knee, we headed north to the White River Visitor Center which is the only visitor center for the South Unit of the Badlands National Park. Some context: the Badlands National Park is split into two units, North and South. The North Unit is pretty much your typical National Park. It has a nice paved, scenic road that runs through the park with pull offs for good views. It has a big visitors center and multiple campsites staffed with rangers. In terms of resources, it felt like Arches or Zion.

But the South Unit is a much different place. It's doesn't feel very much like a National Park and that's because it sort of isn't. The South Unit of the Badlands sits in Pine Ridge Reservation; and although it's protected National Park land, it's held in cooperation with the Oglala Lakota. There are no rangers staffed in the South Unit full time, the tribe runs the only campsite, and there are no roads leading directly to trails in the park. The land itself is also very sacred and has significant cultural importance to the tribe. "The Stronghold" which is a holy site smack dab in the middle of the South Unit, has been inhabited and visited by the Lakota for over 10,000 years. Technically speaking, that land belongs to the United States government. Unsurprisingly, there is an ongoing debate/movement within the tribe to formally reclaim the land from the United States government, which would make it tribal land and not a National Park. We'll see what happens.

As for our visit, the visitors center provided some much needed history of the Lakotas. It was a small but thorough exhibit on language, custom, history and relations with the US. One specific portion had a booklet of the major treaties that were violated by the US government's illegal land settlement. The Treaty of Laramie, which reserved the Black Hills as Lakota land, ultimately resulted in a 1980 Supreme Court case in which the Court ruled that the US government had illegally seized the Black Hills and therefore owed the Lakota Indians $106 million. The problem was that the Oglala Lakota didn't want the money, they wanted the land back. They appealed to the Supreme Court for 7,300,000 acres of the Black Hills instead, but the court denied them. To give you a sense of how egregious that decision was, the United Nations declared that the US government's failure to return the land in fact violated international law!

The museum was exactly what we had wanted all day and we soaked it up--we stayed until the two employees closed it up for the night.

After the South Unit we began our drive north to get a brief glimpse of the North Badlands and then head east to Chicago. The Badlands is a spectacular site worthy of the National Park designation (for what it's worth). The curvy road took us deep into the millions-year-old rock structures that had been carved by the Wind River. The Badlands used to be separated from the Rocky Mountains by the Western Interior Seaway (which is said to have split North America into two separate land masses millions of years ago), so the area is rife with fossils of extinct animal species. Learning about this science, even just briefly, was really cool.

We explored some of the pull-offs just as a major thunderstorm roared in the distance. Here's the only photo I snapped during that day:

It was a beautiful storm of biblical proportions. It raged in the distance and covered the sky in darkness, except for one small oval which opened up perfectly to reveal the last remnants of the sunset. We explored some of the rock structures and watched in amazement as a herd of mountain goats hopped up and down the peaks in order to escape the rain.

Midnight Drive/Wrigley Field/Chicago

After our unexpectedly long and awesome drive through the Badlands, we hit I-90--the road that would take us nearly 700 miles to Chicago--at 9 PM. Skyler was an absolute baller. He drove from 9 PM until 5:30 AM. We may be crazy, but we're not stupid (I like to think). Skyler was very smart about his late night leg. He called a good friend from college and talked to her for 3 hours, which killed almost half of his driving time. Meanwhile, I got some quality reading done before passing out around 2:30 AM. When I woke up at 5:30 AM, we had arrived at a Minnesota McDonald's. I was groggy, grumpy and just not ready to drive. A few cups of iced coffee changed that and before I knew it, I was wired and ready to roll. I drove the rest of the way to a motel just outside of Chicago. We arrived there at 1:30 PM. In total, it was 16.5 hours of driving pretty much straight through the night and morning.

Let the record show, however, that we are not clinically insane. We did have a (good) reason for doing such a crazy drive: before the trip, my Dad asked me if Skyler and I had planned to see any baseball games throughout the journey. When I told him that we had better things to do than see America's past time, he was visibly offended (he's a big baseball fan). On the spot, he declared that if Skyler and I were at any major league ballpark in the US, he would buy us two tickets to see a game. At the time I didn't think anything of it. I do enjoy a good ballgame, but I truly did not expect that we would ever want to see a baseball game over another cultural activity that we could do in a city. Lo and behold, I was wrong. Skyler and I realized that we had an all-expenses paid opportunity to see the legendary Wrigley Field. So we called my Dad, who was true to his word, and got ourselves some tickets as a birthday present (my birthday was on June 29th).

The 29th was on a Sunday. So just like any other Sunday, the Cubs would be playing a nice day game under a beautiful, late-June sun. Sounds nice right? The only problem was that Cubs inconceivably decided to take this Sunday off--the first time the franchise has done so in 82 years. Thus, Saturday evening was our only option if we wanted to get a glimpse of Wrigley. 

Against all odds, neither of us fell asleep and we made it safe and sound. We hung out at our hotel for a few hours, napped/watched World Cup soccer, and then drove downtown to Wrigleyville. We saw the Cubs get burned by the Nationals, final score 7-2. There was a short, but intense storm that came through in the 4th inning so we had a brief rain delay. But all in all it was a beautiful night for a ballgame and what a park it is! Here are some photos that we snapped:

Rain delay at Wrigley

Nice view from the upper deck as the workers clear the field for play.

The Dynamic Duo out in front of the famous centerfield scoreboard.

The majestical powers of America's pastime leave Skyler speechless as he looks on romantically at one of the country's oldest franchises....just kidding, he was just really tired.

Starlin Castro, the only glimmer of hope for the Cubs, winds up late in the game.

Outside Wrigley in front of another famous park landmark.

I had some brief, but informative conversations with some of the park attendees--most of them were retired senior citizens who love baseball enough to watch a game almost every day and night of the summer. One man told me the entire history of the park's renovations and explained just how small the original park really was (it didn't even have its second deck until 1927).

After the 8th inning, Skyler and I snuck our way down into the home plate section. We were about 15 rows back from the plate, a great view and a great way to end the night. Although, as one diehard Cubs fan pointed out: "the Cubs look just as shitty from here as they do from the bleachers." They are pretty bad. But you gotta give it to them, they have very loyal fan support despite not having won a World Series since 1908. The streak is so long and unbearable that the Cubs' last World Series actually outdates Wrigley Field itself, which was built in 1914. After this experience, they're my new number two team in the National League. Those fans deserve a championship.

All in all, it was a fantastic night and a great way to spend a birthday. It was also the perfect activity to do after such an unhealthy drive. As Skyler said, baseball is so calm, relaxing and requires not too much mental effort to follow (as long as you're okay with missing a double switch here and there). If we had done something with anymore physical or mental exertion, I think we would have hit a wall. But the game was exactly what we needed and it was absolutely worth the drive.

We returned to our Motel 6, crashed and slept in the next morning. After some quick and greasy breakfast, we made our way downtown to the Art Institute of Chicago. I knew it was world renowned, but I had no idea that the museum's collection, especially its masterpieces, had so much variety. We spent almost three hours in the museum, spending most of our time in the modern art section before exploring some other exhibitions. I got to see one of my favorite paintings, Edward Hopper's Nighthawks which was very cool (it's just as enigmatic and ambiguous in person).

Afterwards we hung out in Millennium Park for an hour or so exploring some of the cool public art and tossing a frisbee (classic). Here are some photos:

Skyler trying to find my feet in the reflection.

Entering into the belly of the bean.

Once we had our fill downtown, Skyler and I drove to a suburb called Skokie to stay with my friend Yoni. It was great to see Yoni and meet his family. Originally, Skyler and I had planned to see Yoni at his camp in Michigan, but the timing did not really work out for us. I'm really glad, however, that we made this visit work in Chicago.

We watched the end of a thrilling World Cup game, played some bball in the driveway and then took a drive to Evanston to see Northwestern University. We walked along a path at the edge of campus/the shores of Lake Michigan. I had never seen one of the Great Lakes before, so I was stunned. Skyler and I are still convinced that we were looking at an ocean. 

As we walked along Lake Michigan we also had a great view of Chicago's skyline at dusk. We eventually found a nice place to sit on some large boulders and had a good conversation as the sky quickly darkened. After a while, we hopped into the car and went on a quest for food. We eventually settled on Taco Bell, where Skyler and Yoni forced me to try a burrito (I had never eaten Taco Bell before, and I'm still proud to say that I've never spent money there). It was a cheesy (no pun intended) birthday treat and I guess it wasn't that bad. Regardless, I was in good company for my birthday and that's all that mattered to me.

The three of us were exhausted when we got home so we decided to call it an early night. Yoni works at a hospital in Chicago and had to get up very early the next morning and we had a drive to Cincinnati ahead of us. In the morning, Yoni went on his way and we had a great breakfast with his folks, Susan and Sadok. His dad, Sadok, is from Israel and played semi-professional soccer during his heyday so he was very excited about the World Cup. In fact, he was getting ready to fly to Brazil in a few days to see one of the quarterfinal games, the two semis and the finals. Needless to say, Skyler and I were both envious. They were both very sweet people and they cooked us a filling meal to start the day (plus sandwiches for the road!).

Cincinnati

So we were on our way to our last stop. We left Yoni's house and headed directly to another good ol' friend of mine, Grace Cawdrey. I met Grace on my trip to Cambodia two years ago and other than her brief visit at Tufts earlier this year and a small reunion in NY, I hadn't gotten to see Grace at all. Getting a chance to hang out and catch up with her was awesome. But even better than that was finally getting to meet her legendary younger brothers, Timmy (15) and William (9). They are awesome kids--wild, free-spirited and so much fun. They matched the infamous stories that Grace had told me about them over the years. 

The visit was very laid back which was exactly what we needed. While we spent most of our time in chill mode, Grace and her brothers did give us a small taste of Cincy. They took us downtown near the University of Cincinnati campus where we tried Skyline Chili (supposedly the city's classic soul food) and Graeter's ice cream. Although our stomachs couldn't handle the rich chili dogs of Skyline, we were good to go for this ice cream. A friend of mine--prone to exaggeration--had told me that this was the best ice cream in the world. Before this experience, I protested her wildly subjective claims. But I'm eating crow on this one, this was the by far the best ice cream I've ever had in my life (I still refuse to admit it's a global best). I highly recommend the Raspberry Chip, it's got ridiculously large chocolate chips embedded in it. Those things are like woodchips made out of chocolate. 

After Graeter's, we all headed back to Grace's house for some good old fashioned summer shenanigans at the request of Timmy and Will. It mainly consisted of lighting firecrackers, Chinese lanterns and other miscellaneous items. Pure exhilaration. Seriously though, those little brothers are a blast. Skyler and I nicknamed William, the Prophet, for his ridiculous one liners that could be interpreted as wise, shrewd analyses of society.

Grace, Skyler and I also had a fun time sharing crappy videos that we had made over the years. I even got to see some previously unreleased footage from our trip to Cambodia which was really cool. It also brought back memories of moments that had completely escaped my mind. After some more goofing around, we called it a night and went to bed late. We slept in until 10:30 or so because the exhaustion was really getting to us. We had some quality time with El Prophet William for about an hour in the morning (as we made breakfast he was lighting some smoke bombs on the deck...we weren't the best babysitters in the world). Here are some photos from our stay with Grace:

Shenanigans.

So happy to be reunited.

Throwin' up the deuces.

Young (pseudo) intellectuals.

We took off from Grace's and drove to the house of Skyler's Uncle Mark which was only 25 minutes away. Mark was a great guy and we had a great stay with him and his kids, Stacy and Derek. We watched the Argentina/Switzerland game (Argentina pulled off the win in thrilling fashion) and then we had a frisbee session outside. Mark broke out some new tricks for us and further proved just how talented the Mueller brothers are when it comes to frisbee. I'd pay money to see them all square off in a game of ultimate. Here's a photo of me and Sky post-game:

Game day. Skyler's rocking the Messi jersey and I'm rocking the plain Argentina jersey....GO USA!

Once we had gotten nice and sweaty (it was a hot, sultry afternoon, heat turned up to bout 82) we headed back inside to watch the USA/Belgium game. It was disappointing, we were clearly the less talented squad on the field, but it was a thrilling game and we somehow got it all the way into extra time. But it was fun watching it with Mark, who has become a real expert on the US team and has watched almost all of the World Cup games so far. There's nothing better than watching a game with a knowledgable fan.

After the US lost in OT, we headed closer to the city to meet up with Skyler's cousin and Mark's son Derek. We had a nice dinner with him and his sister Stacy and it was very cool getting to meet more members of the Mueller clan. We drove back to Mark's house in a wicked thunderstorm with some of the largest lightning bolts I had seen on the trip. I had to drive through it even longer because I spent the night hanging out at Grace's house again, which was well worth it. We woke up relatively early, Mark treated us to a hearty breakfast and some air pressure for our tires, and then we were on our way home for Pennsylvania. It's safe to say our stop in Cincinnati was worth it. It was a relaxing and healthy way to end an amazing adventure. 

I'm going to post one more time very soon to wrap things up and give some final thoughts. There's no place like home...

Land that never fails to humble (Yellowstone/Grand Teton/SD).

Howdy howdy. After a one night stay with Todd and Jeanne Wilkinson, we headed south for Grand Teton National Park via Yellowstone. Before we left, Todd treated us to our best breakfast yet: 5 blueberry pancakes each...and then the man went and banged out his weekly column for the Jackson Hole daily paper! Can you spell B-A-L-L-E-R?

We had a beautiful drive south into Wyoming and through Yellowstone. Here are a couple of the photos that we snagged during our brief visit in the park:

Skyler and I in front of the Grand Prismatic Spring at different spots. The photo of Skyler gives a taste of just how bright the spring is. It is one of the brightest blues I've ever seen, much bluer than the sky. Certainly the bluest water I've ever seen. The spring, which averages a water temperature of 160 degrees, pours 500 gallons of water into the Firehole River...every minute.

After Grand Prismatic Spring we headed over to see Old Faithful take care of its business. Unfortunately, Skyler and I agreed that Yellowstone--more so than any other park we've visited--has a real amusement park feel to it. Most of the popular attractions at the park require very little walking or hiking, which allows for tourists (we concede, we're also tourists) to treat the experience like a sports game or a concert. As Skyler noticed, people were quite literally tailgating as they waited for Old Faithful to blow.

Nonetheless, that geyser is pretty darn special. I can see why it's a staple of the country and I'm glad I got a chance to see it. Once we'd gotten our fill of Yellowstone, we've drove another two hours south to Moose, WY which sits inside Grand Teton National Park. But before we arrived we couldn't help but pull over to look at these peaks:

When I called my dad for his birthday, I described the mountains as "almost inconceivable." Half-jokingly, he poked fun at my choice of words and declared that I was officially running out of adjectives. I think he may be right. Many people before Skyler and I--writers and artists alike--have given these mountains much more beautiful and appropriate praise than we will ever be able to express.  So I'll leave it to them for now. The Grand Tetons are the youngest peaks in the continental United States, a fact that's not surprising when you get a glimpse of them. Unlike the White Mountains of NH or the Blue Ridge range, which are both quite rounded, the Tetons are very sharp and jagged. It's as if they were sliced up by the glacier just yesterday. 

Luckily, we got to absorb this view for 48 hours straight. We drove into Moose to meet my good friend Carter Wilkinson. He is spending the summer at the Murie Center as their writer in residence. The Center is a ranch once owned by the Murie's (one of the most important families involved in the American conservation movement) that now belongs to Grand Teton National Park. Carter gave us a brief tour of the ranch and showed us his cabin which is nestled in between the Snake River and the Tetons....the views not too shabby (Ansel Adams anyone?).

After we got the rundown, Carter, Skyler and I enjoyed a great dinner at a restaurant in Moose. We we're out on a porch as the Grand (the tallest peak in the range at 13,000 feet) towered over us. Unsurprisingly, we had some very interesting conversations with the three of us finally together at one table. I have to say, witnessing two things that you care so deeply about intersect with one another is such a rewarding experience. I had the same feeling when Skyler met Caleb and Jack at Dragons orientation. Seeing that kind of link between two separate people that are very important in my life causes me to feel very grateful for those respective relationships. 

Once we'd finished up our meal and conversation we headed to Gros Ventre campsite to set up our tent. On our way Carter snapped a few nice pics of me and Sky:

On our way to the campsite we caught a glimpse of some Bison and Antelope in the distance. It was a small taste of what was to come later in our stay. We said goodbye to Carter for the night and hit the hay early. The next morning we got an early start on the day and set off on a 8-mile hike through Death Canyon via Phelps Lake. I think it was one of my favorite hikes of the trip so far. After the first two miles, the trail spit us out onto a steep overlook above the lake. We continued onwards up the canyon alongside the raging rapids of Death Canyon Creek (creeks in the West are basically not creeks at all. I'm pretty sure that thing could be categorized as Class 5 rapids). The trail wasn't exhausting, but it presented its challenges. There was a series of sharp switchbacks which left Skyler and I out of breath at certain moments. There was also a steep snow field that had yet to be melted on the trail. If anyone were to slip while walking along the snow they would have most likely slid all the way down to that ominously (and accurately) named creek. 

Our destination was a remote patrol cabin, presumably used by park rangers. We ate our sandwiches, briefly looked for a moose, and then headed back down to the lake. When we arrived we had our eyes peeled for a 25-30 foot granite slab that cuts out into the lake. It's a prime jumping rock and my good friend Julia had recommended it to me over the phone, so we had to find it. On our hike down we saw it in the distance--at first it looked relatively small, then we saw the tiny little white specks that people created as they splashed into the water. That put its size in perspective. 

After some brief meditation from afar (while waiting for 20 loud, obnoxious teenagers to leave the rock) we climbed up and jumped off multiple times. It brought me back to Phnom Penh where I jumped off a ten-meter diving board in an olympic sized pool in the city center. For some weird reason, I just love the feeling of your stomach plummeting as you fall down to the water. Not to mention, Skyler and I are making a habit of jumping into freezing cold, glacially formed mountain lakes. It was quite chilly, but worth it.

As we hiked out through a soft, warm drizzle, we turned back a few times to see the lake. Although the rock was now just a tiny grey speck along the bank, the memory of the pure exhilaration and fear that I had as I  jumped off of it gave me some fantastic perspective on the surrounding areas. After jumping from what felt like a substantial height off of that rock, the soaring mountains and canyon walls now seemed to rise even higher into the sky. I also realized that the lake was much more expansive than I had first thought. Once I left the trail and returned to my view of the Tetons, I also gained a much better appreciation of just how prodigious those snow-capped peaks truly are. 

We hopped in the car off the trail and headed straight for Jackson, WY which neighbors Moose. I had a delicious Bison burger at a local burger joint, and then Skyler and I got a chance to stroll around the town a bit. It was quite touristy but seemed cool nonetheless:

Skyler and I under the famous Elk-Antler-Arch in Jackson...like I said, we're clearly not tourists at all.

We trekked back into Moose to meet up with Carter one last time. The three of us drove deeper into the park to Jenny Lake, a nice spot for the sunset. We took a 30 minute stroll around the perimeter of the lake, got about halfway in and then turned back. The conversation was fantastic though. On cue, Carter was firing on all cylinders. We ended the night outside the Murie Center as Skyler and Carter discussed their favorite contemporary music. They hit it off and as I mentioned, it's pretty cool to see those personal intersections work out so well. We said our goodbyes to Carter, for real this time. I'm excited to see his writing at the end of the summer. Based on the description he gave me, his ideas seem very interesting. 

We headed back to camp, crashed and woke up to a rainstorm at 8 AM the next morning. Although the rain was a bummer, it forced us to pack up quickly so we got on the road by 9 AM. Lucky us because 9 is a prime time to spot Bison in the area:

My dad was right, I'm officially out of adjectives. All I can say is that it was a magical way to soak in our last view of the Tetons. There was a slight layer of morning mist in the valley, the mountains looked they were smoking, and then out of nowhere this herd of galloping Bison appeared on either side of the road. They are striking animals, especially the elderly males and the young new-borns. I had never seen a Bison before in my life and I'm very glad that I got a short glimpse of some.

We had a beautiful, but exhausting drive all the way across Wyoming and into South Dakota (another new state, yippee!). We rolled into Rapid City, SD at around 7:30 PM and found some food and a cheap motel to spend the night. The highlight of the evening was the biblical rainstorm that raged down upon the South Dakota countryside which we could see in the distance from our motel parking lot. Skyler and I spent half an hour sitting outside watching as three to four strikes of lightning cracked every second. It was a beautiful summer storm, heat lightning was flashing non-stop and it was quite flooring. I've never seen so much lightning flash at once.

Of course, the storm soon moved our way. I enjoyed the beating rain for a few minutes as it pelted my body and gave me a long overdue dirt-cleansing. It was yet another experience over the past few days that brought me back to Cambodia. In this particular instance, I felt like I was in of one of the many flash rainstorms we encountered in the Southeast Asia backcountry. I love torrential downpours in warm, humid air. It might be my favorite natural element of summer. 

Once we concluded that we wouldn't need to construct an escape ark, we retired to our motel room and began to unwind. We even plugged into the world of sports briefly (GO USA AND GO 76ers!)

Tomorrow we're on to Mount Rushmore, then Wounded Knee and Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, and then an afternoon/evening in the Badlands National Park. We are expecting a sharp contrast between the scene at Mt. Rushmore and the surrounding Indian Reservations. Wealthy tourism (on sacred Native American land that was stolen by our government in order to carve four big white faces into a mountain) versus total, abject poverty only a few miles to the west. 80% of residents on Pine Ridge Reservation are unemployed--a figure that I'm unable to wrap my head around.

But I will certainly give much more thorough and accurate reflection following our visit tomorrow. After the Badlands, we'll be heading to Chicago to see some friends and maybe a Cubs game at Wrigley.

On y va.

Living ecstatically at the top of America.

I'm spent and I realize I've been pouring way too much detail into some of these posts. So here are some photos and descriptions of our past few days--Portland, OR with our friend Millie followed by 3 nights in Glacier National Park:

This is my friend Lady the lama, who lives on Growing Seeds farm in Corbett, OR. Skyler's college friend Millie is working at the farm this summer through a program called WWOOF (World Wide Organization of Organic Farms). It's a really cool place and she seems to be having a great experience so far.  Millie is also an awesome human being. Very thoughtful, self-aware, funny and insightful. She gave us a thorough tour of the farm and explored Portland with us later that night....but more importantly, look at this lama! Ain't she cute?

Seriously--I think she's the one.

After a great stay with Millie, we drove from Portland, OR to Glacier National Park. What a haul it was. We got in at 1 AM, set up our tent in the dark and crashed. But the next day made the trek more than worth it. This is a photo of Avalanche Lake, one of the most beautiful spots in the park. The three white streaks coming down the cliff face in the distance are raging waterfalls. Spectacular to say the least.

Skyler resting on a rock in Avalanche Lake.

I was oh so close to falling head first into some icy mountain water.

On day two of our stay in Glacier, Skyler and I hiked 4.5 miles and climbed 2,500 feet in elevation to Snyder Lake. Look what we found! Wait, It's June right?

Here is a shot I took at Snyder Lake. I think this hike was a pivotal moment in the trip for me. It provided an opportunity for some long overdue meditation and reflection. Out of pure joy for life, I let out a yell from one of the cliffs that echoed across the lake. I couldn't help myself.

We ended our stay in Glacier this morning with a quick skinny dip in Lake McDonald--our campsite was right on the banks of the water. It was the most invigorating swim of my life. Floating naked in crystal clear, icy-blue water underneath three jagged snow-capped peaks cutting magnificently through the sky: you can't beat that. We let out a few more yells, exulting in the thought that we had arrived at the top of the country.

We jumped in the car and headed south to Bozeman, MT where we are now staying with the parents of a good friend of mine, Carter Wilkinson. Todd and Jeanne, his folks, have been great hosts so far. They treated us to a fantastic meal (with fruits and veggies, woohoo!) and great conversation. Then they gave us a quick tour of the city, which seems like a great place to live. We ended up on Pete's Hill at sunset overlooking four different mountain ranges in the distance, with Bozeman nestled in between them. It was one of the best days of the trip so far. 

I'll try to flesh out my thoughts on Glacier and post them the next time we get internet. It really was a magical place and I think more than any other National Park, I have a strong desire to return to Glacier soon. Tomorrow we head further south to Yellowstone/Grand Teton/Jackson Hole to stay with my good friend Carter. I've been looking forward to the stay throughout the trip and I'm excited to see what he has in store for us.

Like a beat that knows time...

The Wondrous West

Well I guess I'm beginning to make a habit of letting too much time and too many great experiences unfold before blogging. Once again, I find myself bursting at the seams with moments and memories to rehash and reflect upon. But sadly, I don't have the time or energy necessary to comprehensively recount the past week of the trip. Here's my stab at it:

San Diego

Our introduction to California did not disappoint. In fact, it far exceeded my expectations. Skyler's Uncle Bill and his wife Molly are two of the most warm-hearted and hospitable people I have come across in my life thus far. They immediately welcomed us in and made us feel right at home. We spent our first day taking a beautiful bike ride through SD's Pacific Beach. Afterwards, we tossed the frisbee until I got so sweaty that I just couldn't restrain myself from jumping into the Pacific Ocean. It was supposedly "June Gloom" weather in the area yet the water was 68 degrees....I could get used to that.

That night we went to see Bill "Touch of Silk" Mueller play in his recreational basketball league playoff game. It was the semi-finals and Bill's team was a 10 point underdog. Let me tell you folks, this game was the epitome of a barnburner. Bill's team got off to a hot start knocking down a few quick J's and playing good D. But it was a close game all the way through. Perhaps what impressed me most was the resilience of these dudes. Bill's team fell down 36-26 shortly after the start of the 2nd half. How did they respond? They stormed back guns a blazin'. They proceeded to go on a 10-0 run to tie the game, eventually sending it into overtime. After a few crucial plays and somewhat questionable calls, Bill's team had one final shot to send the game into double OT. Their big man, lovingly referred to as "Grizzly Bear," took a shot that just missed and sadly they were eliminated from the playoffs. It was a real heartbreaker, but a great game of basketball. Let me put this in perspective for you: that night we watched Game 3 of the NBA finals played between the two best basketball teams on the planet...and I can honestly say that Bill's rec league game was the better game of the two. Those guys may be 50+ but their fierce determination and love of the game defines competitive excellence...take notes Lebron.

Back to biz. The following day Bill, Skyler and I got a great lunch at a local cafe overlooking La Jolla Shores Beach. Engaging and challenging conversation ensued--I found that this was a recurring theme anytime I talked to Bill. We tossed the frisbee some more and then took another long swim in the Pacific. Bill told me that a three foot wave in the Pacific is significantly stronger than a wave of the same size in the Atlantic. All I know is that they were some of the best body surfing waves I've ever come across. It was a blast.

We ended our final night with a very nice dinner in downtown San Diego, a thoughtful treat from Skyler's dad. We walked through the Gaslamp District of San Diego and got a real feel for the downtown area of the city which was very cool, hip and happening. The next morning Molly treated us to yet another wonderful meal. We took our time packing up our things, said our good-byes and headed up Route 5 for San Francisco.

I should say before I move on that Bill Mueller was such a cool guy. I spent a good chunk of one of our mornings picking his brain on American literature. I am filled to the brim with reading suggestions after just a few days with him. Perhaps what I admire most about him is his ability to define his own success. He made the bold decision to leave college at the age of 20 and start a new life in San Diego--a decision that I am not even remotely courageous enough to make. Additionally, his extensive expertise on literature and his passion for writing challenged my most basic conceptions about success. Bill has made a fulfilling and engaging career for himself without a college degree, and (like I said in my last post) he may be the most well read person I've ever met in my entire life. Not to mention, he's a total renaissance man: he's kept himself in good enough shape to play rec league bball, surf, toss a mean frisbee, he's an avid sports fan, loves and seeks out great music and cinema, and of course he's a voracious reader.

Above all else, Bill and Molly are simply warm and generous folks. I loved the stay in SD and couldn't imagine making it through the rest of the trip without that relaxing respite.


San Francisco/Marin

After a long drive through LA (ah, it still brings back vivid, nightmarish, traffic-filled visions) we stopped at the University of California at Santa Barbara to see my good friend Jack Betz. He was just finishing up his last few days there and was able to show us the campus and the surrounding area. The school is in a beautiful location, right on the Pacific Ocean. It's almost too good to be true. We had one somber experience, however, while walking past the memorial in front of the Isla Vista Deli, the site of one of the most recent (but sadly not the most recent) mass shooting. Jack explained to us that the campus was still grieving from the tragedy and we could sense that the event was hanging over the community. I'm glad I saw the memorial first hand and I hope the experience will inform some of the work that I do with Ceasefire PA during the rest of the summer.

After UCSB, we trucked on up to San Francisco, where we arrived at the house of Ethan Goldstein--my good friend from Tufts. We briefly caught up in the kitchen before crashing from driving-induced exhaustion. The next morning we set off to explore the city. Ethan took us from his house (in Ingleside, a neighborhood in the city) through some of the more interesting areas of the city. We climbed to the top of one of the major hills in the city and had a great view of the Bay, downtown, the Golden Gate Bridge, Candlestick Park etc. We then took the Muni public transportation line down into the Mission District where we got Mexican food for lunch. We were treated to some live Mexican folk singing at the restaurant (a rare occurrence according to Ethan). The Mission District was a very cool area. Historically, it has attracted a large immigrant population. It continues to do so, but it is easy to recognize the inevitable force of gentrification slowly altering the neighborhood.

After the Mission, we walked through the city until we hit Dolores Park. We got a good feel for the city population while sitting on top of the hill in the north end of the park. I think the dude on the Bongo drums smoking a joint gave it away, although very San Franciscoans that we encountered fit such an extreme stereotype. We left Dolores and headed through the Castro where we hit Harvey Milk plaza--a small memorial dedicated to his life and work. Conveniently, that's where we boarded the Muni to get back to Ethan's house.

We packed up our things, got some flowers for the Goldstein's and then headed out. We we're waiting on Jack to get home from college because his home in the suburbs of SF was our next stop. But he wouldn't be back until later in the evening so we had some time to kill. Fortunately, we discovered an absolute gem. Every Friday, the city of SF sponsors a local event called Off The Grid. Essentially, every food truck in the city parks in a lot beneath Golden Gate Park, a beautiful, open green space that overlooks the Bay and the Bridge. The trucks, which offer an almost-overwhelming amount of options, line up in a grid and in the middle there is a beer garden and live music. It's a pretty fantastic idea I gotta say. I wish Philly or Boston would put on something like it. There were older folks, parents, yuppies, hipsters teenagers and toddlers. The demographics were totally diverse and the atmosphere was really cool. Not to mention, the food was freaking phenomenal! Skyler had a Naan burrito: a Naan bread wrap stuffed to the brim with chicken curry and other goodies. I had a dish of Nepalese food which was also great.

After our unexpectedly delicious meals, Skyler and I went back into Golden Gate Park to read our books and toss the frisbee around. We worked up a sweat, had some fun and then decided that we'd earned dessert: for me, a homemade chocolate taco and for Skyler, a frozen banana dipped in chocolate. We ended the night with a nice long chat, reflecting upon our past few days as we looked over the Bay from a pier that jutted out from the park. Here was the view we had at sunset:

We left Off The Grid and drove over the Golden Gate Bridge towards Marin County, home of Jack Betz. And what a home it is. Not unlike Bill and Molly, Jack's parents Rick and Judy are two incredibly kind people. They opened up their home to us without hesitation and engaged us throughout our stay. They also treated us like princes: crepes for breakfast on Father's Day? Cooked by Jack's dad himself? I almost felt guilty eating those things.

Anyway, to keep it short, Marin was a very cool place. The urban side of SF is awesome, but it's suburbs are not too shabby either. The landscape is beautiful--hiking, biking, ocean, mountains--what more could you ask for? The people we encountered were also very friendly. We spent a lot of time with Jack's old high school gang, spending most of our day at the beach with Jack and his buddy Liam. Later that night, we threw a big surprise birthday party for Liam who had just turned 19 the day before. It was an awesome day, very relaxed and silly at times (such as makeshift beach volleyball), but we got to hangout with some really cool people. The night ended with this big group of old high school friends sitting around a fire chatting and hanging out. Once again, I was amazed at the general hospitality of these people on the West Coast. We we're total strangers to most of these kids yet they made us feel completely welcome and comfortable. I was also envious of Jack's ability to hold a core group of friends together even after a year at college--that's something that I've certainly struggled to do.

The next morning, Father's Day, we got a late start, packed up our stuff and headed east (yea that's right east) for Yosemite National Park.

The Mighty Yosemite

Too much to describe, way way way too little time. Yosemite is quite simply a sight that must be seen to be believed. To paraphrase a good friend of my older brother's, the world should revolve around Yosemite. At the very least, every American should have its existence at the center of their national consciousness. I know I certainly did not consider it an essential part of my national identity, primarily because I'd never had the opportunity to bask in its glory first hand.

We had two full days in Yosemite and we shared them with Jack Betz and his friend Jasper. They both knew the park well and were helpful resources. Jack's parents also generously gave us their Lower Pines campsite (amazing location) for the duration of the trip. We spent our first day climbing through a series of boulder-formed caves which were off the trail near our campsite. We ended up on top of a humongous rock structure, looking up at Half Dome and Glacier Point. It was a great introduction to the park.

Next up, we hiked to Lower Yosemite Falls. We climbed up a rock face until we were being sprayed with mist from the blast of the waterfall. We eventually nestled into the side of a rock where we had a great view of the Upper and Lower Yosemite Falls. Here's our crappy photo (don't worry, Jasper had a great camera and he captured some amazing shots of us in the park which I will try to get my hands on ASAP):

That night we set out on a journey that I had been looking forward to for months. We took a two and a half hour drive out to Tom's Place, a tiny town in which Where There Be Dragons was hosting their instructor orientation. Dragons, is an organization that runs educational, cultural immersion trips in about 25 countries around the world. When I was 17, I went on a Dragons trip to Cambodia where I met Jack as well as Caleb Brooks, my instructor. The trip remains one of the more profound experiences of my life and it created many lasting relationships. 

Until this leg of the trip, I hadn't seen Jack or Caleb in exactly two years. The last time I saw either of them was in the LA airport, and although I've kept in touch with both of them, seeing Jack and Caleb again was something else. When we finally arrived at Tom's Place (it was a longer drive than we expected) Caleb's big bear hug immediately reminded me that the trek was worth it.

Seeing Caleb in his element was such a cool experience. I spent the night meeting other instructors from around the world, catching up with CBrooks and watching the opening fireside ceremony for Dragons' orientation. Each instructor announced in a concise word or phrase what they would bring to the table for their students. It was a sentimental reminder of the impact that that organization, and Caleb specifically, have had on my life. I definitely want to reflect more on the experience because it was pretty special and I hope to write more extensively about it in the next few weeks. But in the meantime, I should say that my trip to Cambodia prepared me for this XC road trip better than any other experience in my life. It taught me how to travel, how to seek out adventure, how to ask good questions, how to absorb and appreciate culture, and many more things. I don't think I would have any clue how to approach this road trip if I hadn't taken that journey through Cambodia and met those folks. I'm so grateful that many of them are still a part of my life: 

I really hope to see these fellas again sometime soon. We drove back in the dark after an agonizingly short visit. Fortunately, a great view of the stars at Tuolumne Meadows made the trek even more worth it (Jasper snagged one hell of a photo there). We arrived back in camp at 1 AM, crashed, and woke up the next morning at 6:30 AM for our 18 mile hike to Half Dome.

That hike was quite possibly one of the most tiring endeavors of my life. It was 9 miles almost entirely uphill. The final quarter mile is up a sheer cliff face on the south side of Half Dome. It's so steep that there is a cable system set up that you have to climb in oder to reach the top. I'd say I was genuinely terrified while climbing up and down the cables, but it was absolutely worth it. Here are some of the photos from the summit:

Approaching the summit. That little black line going up the rock face is the cable line. It's filled with about 50 people.

We made it! Only nearly died a few times along the way.

Jack and Jasper stand on the edge of the "Diving Board" at the top of Half Dome.

That's me saving Skyler's life on the Diving Board. No big deal.

After recovering, we pause to celebrate.

Similar to the Dragons Orientation experience, I need to reflect more thoroughly on my Half Dome hike. It was one of the most physically intensive yet rewarding experiences of my life. Here was one of the more striking moments of the day: I fell asleep on the western half of the summit, began to dream, and then suddenly woke up on a cliff face overlooking one of the most beautiful sites I'd ever encountered. Sharp granite slabs covered in Redwood and Pine trees plunged deep into the Yosemite Valley and all of that glory was there for me to soak in. It was dead silent except for the breeze and the occasional bird overhead. When I woke up from my nap, it took me more than five minutes to convince myself that I wasn't dreaming. Never before in my life had I actually blurred the line between fantasy and reality, but Yosemite did it for me right there. Simply put, it was otherworldly. So beautiful and unbelievable that it belongs in a dream. But by some miracle we are allowed to enjoy it in the flesh if we invest enough energy to reach the summit. 

After the nine mile hike back to camp, we collapsed in chairs and rested our tired limbs. My legs felt like jello and my arms are still sore even as I write this at the moment. We proceeded to cook up one of the tastiest dishes I've ever had. I'm proud to say that I led the cooking effort (Jack referred to me as Chef Wofford) and here was the final product: 

Mac n' cheese, beef chili, grilled peppers and roasted hot links sausages all stewed together into one big ol' pot. What a meal. Yes that's a pat on my own back. First time I've cooked for a family of four! We ended the night lying down in a meadow underneath the mighty peaks of the valley, looking up at the stars. Chalk it up as yet another indescribable encounter with nature. It was a flooring night sky. We watched shooting star after shooting star pass by until we couldn't keep our eyes open any longer. 

The next morning Skyler and I woke up at 6:30 once again for a long trek up to Portland, OR. We packed up our camp, woke up Jasper and Jack, and said our farewells. It was a good stay, certainly not without our regrets, but I'm so grateful that I had the chance to finally see it (I've been obsessing over Ansel Adams' photos of Yosemite for years, but you can't beat the real thing).

Skyler and I had a difficult, productive and necessary conversation about our respective criticisms of the trip so far and what we want out of the trip moving forward (only two weeks left, hard to believe). It took place at an "In n' Out Burger" of all places, but it was a very helpful and effective talk nonetheless. 

We got into Portland late last night and immediately crashed. Today we saw the city and spent a lot of time with Skyler's good friend Millie from Virginia Tech. She was such a cool girl and I will absolutely write more about our experience with her soon (she is volunteering on a farm this summer just outside of Portland). Great conversation and great laughs. Not too much more you can ask for. Also Portland is a funky and very cool town. I definitely dig it. I'd say Portland and SF--along with Asheville and Austin--are two more cities where I'd love to spend some portion of my adult life. Those four in particular have wooed me on this trip.

Unfortunately, it's way too late for me to be up and we have a 7 AM drive to Glacier National Park tomorrow morning. We're getting spoiled with National Park after National Park, and we hear that Glacier might be on Yosemite's level. We'll shall see and I shall report back soon enough. 

Until Bozeman, Montana....