Wooed by Asheville. Humbled by Birmingham. Exhausted in New Orleans.

Howdy y'all.

We made it down to Asheville safe and sound by Tuesday evening. Although we originally planned to spend one night there and immediately hit the road the next morning, that hipster-mountain town won us over pretty quickly. By the end of the night we'd decided that we had to have a full day to explore the area (first change of plans in the trip! came pretty early huh?). 

The beautiful thing about Asheville is that it's not only a hub of great music, art and beer; it's also nestled into one of the most scenic mountain ranges in the US. We woke up Wednesday morning, hit the Blue Ridge Parkway and within 20 minutes we were at 3,500 elevation hiking Craven Gap. After failing to find a good lookout point, we made our way up the face of a rock to get a view of Mount Mitchell--the tallest peak on this side of the Mississippi River (seriously). The climb was arduous and a little dangerous, but totally worth it.

After a nice 5-mile hike, we made our way up the Blue Ridge Parkway and snapped a quick photo with the Blue Ridge Mountains behind us. They call Asheville the "Land of the Sky" and whoever said that was not lying:

At that point in the day, we already knew that we had made the right call sticking around; but luckily things only got better. Skyler got wind of some cool live music at a local venue right near our hostel in West Asheville. The show just so happened to be a local quintet playing Gypsy Jazz--a style of music that I recently fell in love with thanks to my cousin Jon who introduced me to it. These guys certainly didn't disappoint. They whipped out cover after cover of Django Reinhardt, along with plenty of original and improved pieces. I was digging the upright bass player big time:

 

Meanwhile, we got to know one of our hostel dorm-mates over some dinner at the show. Simon, who's from New Zealand, was pretty much exactly what you'd expect a 27-year-old New Zealander at a hostel to be like: freaking awesome, but kind of crazy. He filled us in on his travels (oh, the escapades) from Vancouver to Asheville and now to New York. It was certainly interesting to hear his perspective on traveling across the country so far and he gave us some helpful advice for some of our future stops. 

Bottom line on Asheville: it consistently has the nicest people I've ever encountered in one small, contained area. Everybody loves to smile, talk and--more often than not--get to know you. I was charmed to say the least.

We hit the hay early Wednesday night and woke up at 6:30 the next morning to leave for New Orleans with a midday stop in Birmingham, AL. On the way down south, we drove through two incredible highways: I-40 West and I-75 South, both of which wind their way through the Great Smokey Mountain National Park at different times. We got a great start on the day so we were able to drive on open roads with a low-hanging sun shining down on the Smokies. As far as 6 hour drives go, this one was pretty heavenly.

But the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute was the real highlight of the day. I had heard good things about this museum, but Skyler and I really didn't know what to expect. In as few words as possible, it is a fantastic museum. Very well organized and designed, provided nuanced and complex history about the era, gave great background on Birmingham's early history and connected the information it was presenting to modern, pressing struggles (queer liberation/marriage equality just one of many). In addition, the museum sits across from two major landmarks, arguably pilgrimage sites for the civil rights movement. The first is Kelly Ingram Park, the site of the 1963 Children's Crusade. That's when Bull Connor let police dogs and fire hoses loose on over 1,000 Birmingham school children. Directly, across the street from the Park and the Museum is the 16th Street Baptist Church--the same church that was bombed on September 15th, 1963 (along with other instances), an attack that left four girls dead. The museum's surrounding influential sites make its exhibits all the more powerful.

I could write a lot about the BCRI, but I'll hold off for now. In short, I highly recommend it to anyone who is traveling through the South. In fact, I'm half inclined to say that every high school student in America should have to visit it before they graduate. It was certainly a smart stop for us and it's enhanced our trip already.

Somehow the ceaseless monsoon-sized rainstorms that we couldn't dodge didn't hold us back from reaching New Orleans on time. We arrived at our hostel--a pretty funky place (in a good way)-- around 11 PM and have been getting settled here since then.

We're both exhausted and a little disoriented from the crazy amount of ground that we've covered in the last two days. I have no idea what to expect from these next two full days in New Orleans, but one thing's for sure: we're not on the East coast anymore...

Point of Departure

“It may be that when we no longer know what to do, 

we have come to our real work 

and when we no longer know which way to go, 

we have begun our real journey."

-Wendell Berry

After a hectic, but fantastic celebration of my older' brothers college graduation, I have only just begun to wrap my head around the fact that I am leaving for a 5 week cross country road trip--we leave in eight hours. Although it will be stressful, I think I'll benefit from a rapid turnaround like this one. Before I know what hit me, Skyler and I will be arguing with each other at a gas station outside Birmingham, Alabama. There's no doubt that this sudden displacement will disorient me, but that's not bad. In fact, it's exactly what I wanted from this trip.

Skyler and I have spent six months planning out detail after detail of this trip. See the result below:

In a strange turn of events, I've actually made a plan for the next few weeks of my life. The itinerary is pretty thorough (yes that's a pat on my own back, it's a miracle that I even picked a first destination). With the hope of making this trip a success, I've focused so much energy on knowing exactly where I'm headed and when. But as helpful as my new-found (likely fleeting) organization skills have been, they may hinder me if I'm not careful.

I was happy to rediscover the above quote from my favorite poet Wendell Berry. His words reminded me that my real adventures will not unfold along the straight lines that I've drawn across the country. The trip will be messy and chaotic--if it's not, then we've failed. Above any sightseeing, camping or reuniting with old friends, I am most eager for the things that I can't look forward to. I relish the opportunity to hit an unexpected fork in the road and find myself utterly astray. I want to cherish every second of bewilderment, anxiety and discomfort that the trip affords me. Only in those moments--when I lose any sense of expected destination--will I be able to journey onwards. 

But for now I might have to put my fantastical wanderlust on hold. Asheville, North Carolina (the first stop on our detailed schedule) awaits us. Sadly, I think I'll have to start the trip by compromising my desire for wild abandon and succumbing to the mundane nature of scheduled agenda. 

Then again, all the plans could go out the window once we hit the Blue Ridge Parkway.