I picked up my trip mate Alex in NYC and we headed down to my home in Alexandria, Virginia. I know I've just started, but permit me a short, pertinent digression since it really was the only exciting thing to pass on this leg of the journey. A common occurrence in what was dubbed "Solid Bro '10" was sampling the national and regional culture via FM and AM radio. In particular I'm interested in pop country because if all else fails, I'm setting out for Nashville to write some chart-toppers. I won't bog you with all my thoughts on these matters, but I will turn you on to the best song encountered, a real barnburner entitled, "Rain is a Good Thing" and performed by Luke Bryan. Here's a link.
It took me what seemed like forever to unpack all my belongings from New York and then to decide what I might potentially need for the next months and then to pack it all up again. Needless to say I was super stressed and very grumpy.
But it all starts to wash away once you hit the road. We went down the west side of Virginia down into West Virginia and finally into Kentucky. West Virginia was all mountains, very beautiful, but as they say, not a lot going on (see below). Kentucky surprised me in that it looked exactly like you imagine it to look. Big fields fenced off for horses, a very burnt green feel, very open. Bardstown, where we spent the night is the second oldest town in Kentucky. After going to this bar that was in a building built in 1779, we went back to our hotel. But...before any of that could happen, it must be admitted that we had our worst food day. The drive from Virginia to Kentucky is about nine hours and we didn't want to stop for a sit down meal, so we drove, but food came few and far between and we ended up getting a pizza to go at a Pizza Hut on some hill in West Virginia. Talk about road food! Then, we got to Bardstown so late that everything was closed except for horrid fast food, so we dug into the last few slices of cold cardboard, I mean pizza, and ate oranges that Alex had bought at Walmart. Now it must be said, we ended up at a Walmart, a Target and a K-Mart on the trip. While Target is pretty consistent, the Walmart and K-Mart had clienteles that were interesting to say the least. Take note, if you're really looking for a slice of real America, these places may be your best bet!
But...back to Bardstown, where the next morning we went on a bourbon distillery tour at Heaven Hill led by our tour guide Billy Bob. The warehouses look a little out of Communist Russia and the black you'll see on the side is actually mold from water evaporation as the barrels are subjected to natural fluctuations of temperature (see below). There were a couple total bourbon nerds on our tour, which was pretty awesome and always good to see. The highlight was Billy Bob talking about how much he loved drinking bourbon and smell some bourbon and say, "Mmm, smells like HEAVEN!" The tasting was pretty great, and luckily for us they only give you a little bit to try because not only did we have a lot of driving to do, but it was also 11:30 in the morning.
Lit out for our next destination, Memphis. Tried to get into Mammoth Caves, the largest known cave system in the world, but it was swamped for the 4th of July. The places you have to pass on the way to get to the caves are totally bizarre tourist traps and gimmicks. Have you heard of Dinosaur World? Or, if you need to pick up precious gems and stones (of questionable value and authenticity), now you know where there are 25 stores all in a 1 mile radius! But hey, you can say they're from a cave where Jesse James hung out. Mammoth Caves was a bust, but two good things came out of it. Both were things I learned. One was about a book series, that used to be a magazine, called Foxfire. It was a series geared towards documenting the traditions and lifestyle of Southern Appalachian culture. It's really amazing and important and you should check it here. The other fact was Steven Bishop, a slave, was perhaps the greatest explorer of the caves. Lunch was had on the outskirts of Nashville at the magnificent Loveless Cafe. Really outstanding preserves, cornbread, carmelized sweet potatoes and collard greens. Yum!
We took advantage of the scenic Natchez Trace Parkway on part of the way to Memphis. The Natchez Trace Parkway was originally a Native American path leading from Natchez into the heartland. It soon became co-opted by European and newly minted American traders. In some parts, you can even catch glimpses of the original trace. Really amazing birds, hawks, falcons and even turkeys if I can trust my eyes.
In Memphis, we made a bee-line for the famous Rende-vous to partake in the deliciousness that is their dry rub BBQ ribs. Nightlife was to be had in the form of a round on Beale Street for a drink and to check out the live music. A pilgrimage was made to the Beale Street home of WC Handy, "Father of the Blues." While walking to our next destination and peering in the windows of various bars, we actually randomly came across a good buddy of ours from school, Joe Cross. Joe is doing Teach For America in Baton Rouge, but they are training somewhere in Mississippi and this was their first weekend off...so he and his friends made for the first big city not in Mississippi.
We convinced him and his crew to accompany us and headed off for this bar Earnestine and Hazel's that used to be a brothel upstairs. A restaurant downstairs is home of the "Soul Burger," but the upstairs is really the joint, as they say. They left the brothel part as it was when found, more of less, and it is super creepy, but a really cool bar. That area of Downtown is in the process of renewal, so there's a lot of cool, empty storefronts. The trolley still runs right outside and you can just imagine that the view was exactly the same 50 or 60 years ago! On the way back, we stopped in front of the Lorraine Motel, where Dr. King was shot and killed. It was very eerie and empty in the stillness of night, but respects must be paid. It's always really emotional. The Lorraine is part of the Civil Rights Museum, which we didn't go to this time, but which is, by far (even with all the great music museums), the best thing to do in Memphis. Highly recommended.
Entering Mississippi, I started to plan out more routes that would take us off the beaten track, in order to actually see through the looking glass at how another slice of American lives. Aided by a road atlas and using food stops from roadfoods.com as an incentive, we went "off-roading." One of the aspects of the trip that I'm most proud of is that more than 90% of navigating was done the old fashioned way; GPS was only consulted as a last resort. I'm also proud of how little interstate road we took when we could help it. I set out to see some different perspectives in America and I really feel like the routes we took gave access to those worlds and views.
So to return to our story, we took 51 Highway and then cut over to Highway 61, the blues highways, through Tunica (Son House's home) and Como (Mississippi Fred McDowell's home) on our journey to Oxford, MS. Naturally, the blues we listened to on this stretch of the trip was some of the finest. It's totally nerdy, but it was one of the great joys of the trip to throw on music of the region or by individuals from the region, see if it works and then gauge the exact reasons and influences.
Oxford is where Ole Miss is and where one of the graduate programs I'm looking at is (Center for the Study of Southern Culture), so I thought it'd be worth spending a day there to get a feel for the town. On the whole, it reminded me a bit of Charlottesville, Virginia, home of the University of Virginia, minus the sprawl that seems to have recently beset that area. First things first when on the road, so we made our way towards the local book store. I don't know how the subject came up, maybe Alex asked where to get nice beer, however it happened, the outcome was an uproar of laughter. Apparently Oxford is in a dry county AND sure enough, it was a Sunday. We finally found a sympathetic concierge who told us if we headed about 20 miles north, we might come to this wooden shack that sold alcohol on Sundays. Sure enough, we found it - The Betty Davis Grocery! And they sold giant turkey legs as well. Needless to say, we bought more of each than was probably adequate for our meager 4th of July celebrations. What we thought was going to be a town picnic in this scenic spot on campus known as "The Grove" and most heralded as THE pre-game spot materialized as a gathering for families. I did discover this new band I'm championing though called, Silas Reed 'n da Books. Awesome mix of hard rock and soul; Silas has a rad voice, totally killer. The whole experience was a little bit of a bust though, because it was the 4th and 5th of July, meaning virtually everything was closed.
On the 5th, we went to Faulkner's house, Rowan Oak, which for me was really amazing. For the most part, it's just a beautiful house and grounds. However, it is really is a picture perfect evocation of the author. The one really amazing aspect of the house is a room on which the walls have the outline of his novel, "A Fable," taking the story day-by-day. At Rowan Oak, we also met one of our favorite friends from the trip, Drew, a History Grad student at Ole Miss and a truly gracious dude, in every sense of that term. For lunch, we tried to go to this place called Taylor's Grocery, a small shack outside of Oxford, which apparently has the best catfish in all of Mississippi (and thus, the whole world?), but it's only open like 4 days a week. We met the owner though. He was off to fish, but let us inside to take a peek. He said they do two things well there, "Fry Fish" and "Have a good time." We wound up at Abner's, a chicken finger chain that originated in Oxford.
For our route down to Jackson, we hopped back on the Natchez Trace Parkway. About halfway, we pulled off and enjoyed a nature walk to stretch our legs and a Negra Modelo along a creek notable for its dams and beaver population. We also stopped at an almost bayou-esque stretch and saw many an alligator.
We finally made it to Jackson in the midst of a big thunderstorm. After an aborted record store mission, we went down to Farish Street, the old center for blues. Charley Patton and Elmore James both recorded down there early in their careers. Now it is totally run down and in the middle of the ghetto. Most of the buildings are just frames with plants growing inside, which was a bit disappointing. As we got out of the car, a man down the street shouted, "Hello White Person!" Out to a suburb for superb catfish, hush puppies, etc. Eager to enjoy what nightlife Jackson could afford, we went out to two bars. The first was full of regulars, a real working class joint. Overhearing another conversation between the bartender and a drinker, I caught the wise wisdom of a man who was waiting to hear if he had cancer. His attitude towards the possible sickness was quite inspiring - a real take-it-as-it-comes toughness. At the second bar, we entered on the tail end of some blues music. It was that point in the set where all the members of the community come up to do a number, showcasing the local talent. Very tight band of obviously amateur musicians letting loose.
One last stop in Mississippi: Vicksburg National Military Park. As a self-proclaimed Civil War fanatic, I couldn't drive past Vicksburg without stopping at the battlefield. For those of you unfamiliar with Vicksburg, it fell the day after the Battle of Gettysburg after a siege conducted by one Ulysses Grant. The fall of the final Confederate stronghold on the Mississippi led to Union control of the major river and thus, accompanied by the events in the North was one of those watershed moments where the tide of the war forever changed. At the park they also have an ironclad on display that they rescued, almost intact, from the bottom of the Mississippi, where it rested for years after being sunk by the first remotely detonated mine. I've always wanted to see the site and it did not disappoint. It's always staggering to try and put yourself in the soldier's shoes and possibly accounts for why I find "The War Between the States" or as they apparently say down South, "The War of Norther Aggression" so compelling. (If you're interested in that latter one, I recommened Tony Horowitz's outstanding black-comedy revelation, "Confederates In The Attic" about how the war lives on...)
Drove through Louisiana to Natchitoches and supped on gumbo and blackened alligator (see below). It was my first time eating alligator and was really delicious. Louisiana was perhaps the least friendly state encountered, other than maybe Arizona (Ha!). The roads were in a lot of disrepair and the whole just had a bad vibe. For what its worth, some folks we befriended in Austin told us nothing but horror stories about Louisiana. This inter-regional rivalry was one aspect of the South that I found particularly interesting. We tend to think of the South as a bloc, for political or philosophical reasons, but the intense cultural differences within and without the various component states amounts to a very tense relationship between the pieces of which the South is composed. One gets the feeling they don't like each other all that much, perhaps even more so now in the depressed economy with so much poverty and fighting over Federal relief and funding.
We were supposed to stay in Shreveport, but at the last minute decided to save money and get a jump start on the long drive to Texas. This meant we ended up pitching a tent and camping out in Weches, Texas at a campsite near an old mission, Mission Tejas. Being at least 2 1/2 hrs., from any major city, the sky was so clear and it was more stars than I have ever seen in my life. I really can't describe the immensity of the night sky and the somehow weightlessness it conveyed because of the millions of stars. The experience was inspiring and downright exhilarating. The next morning, we went to the Caddoan Native American Mounds right up the road, which were impressive. As a detour, this part of the voyage turned out to be a real crowd-pleaser.
On our way to Austin, we HAD to plan a route that drove down through College Station so that we could make a quick trip to the George Bush Museum and Library. We only went to the rotunda and gift shop, but there is still a lot that could be said about this place; I prefer to leave it unsaid. However, I will only mention the video of an elderly Bush skydiving while a worried Babs Bush looks on and an accompanying life-size model as the standouts. It was hard to keep to maintain our composure, but we made it out unscathed. As I like to say, we went rogue.
Then we went to Elgin (missing the famed Watermelon Festival by mere days!) to get famous hot sausages at The Southside Market in Elgin. Amazing hot sauce and BBQ sauce.
And so we ventured deeper until our intrepid travelers came upon Austin. Our first order of business was happy hour and so, we went to a bar on W. 6th called Opal Divine's and wound up befriending a bunch of construction workers. They bought us drinks and told us stories about their lives, adventures, travels, women and gave us a lot of life advice. Despite our greatest reassurances that we had no intention of going anywhere near the industry, they were also emphatic that we not go into the porn business in Los Angeles. Overall, it was real gritty stuff, but one of the highlights of the trip. There was just no BS to any of it and they were actually really excited that people still went on road trips. So excited that they wound up buying us beers. Below is a picture of me and Paul, a safety coordinator. We went to dinner in an up and coming neighborhood at this place called Justine's that Anabel had turned me onto, having done the wainscotting for the place a few years before on a visit to her cousin's place. Justine's had the trifecta: great food, plentiful drink and an incredible atmosphere. It was very mysterious and I liked that. It was very much a constructed dream world and it very much was out of place.
The next day was rainy, so we went up to the strip on S. Congress and hit all the record and book stores. Also went to a cool shop called Uncommon Objects that took antiques and turned them into strange and beautiful crafts. For our next meal, we went down to Lockhart, Texas to gorge at Kreuz's Market, considered one of the best BBQ joints in the US. Lockhart was funny because I took a class on country music in college taught by a professor whose graduate work was an a type of ethnography of the working-class, country community at this one bar in Lockhart, so it was a bit surreal actually seeing this place that I had read about. Kreuz's. You go in, order by the pound, they throw it on butcher paper, give you a plastic knife and send you into the next room to buy sides and eat. The brisket was out of this world. At night, back to Opal Divine's, which also has like 200 types of scotch on the shelf. Our construction worker friends were not there.
On through small town west Texas, through Lubbock (Buddy Holly's birthplace) and on to Amarillo. Almost too tired to go out, but soooo glad we did. Went down to Polk St., which is supposed to be the big spot, but it was like being in the worst parts of the meat-packing district and the people there, well...so we took a chance on a place called Midnight Rodeo. It was described as a C&W bar, so I figured old men asking young ladies to two-step to classic honky tonk. Boy was that misguided. We pull into the parking lot and it was totally jam-packed, wall-to-wall pickup trucks. Turned out this was like a nightclub for young cowboys and cowgirls replete with a live pop country band, five bars and a full dance floor inside. Totally mind blowing and so cool. Of course, we were eyed suspiciously and no one talked to us, but it was good to see how the other half live.
On our way out of Amarillo the next morning, we stopped at Cadillac Ranch - an art installation where old Cadillac cars were stuck into the earth and you're supposed to spray paint them. Then came the drive to Taos. I have to say that I really enjoyed the Southwest. It's totally beautiful and awesomely boring. The whole landscape is naturally psychedelic and I almost enjoyed waiting for hours to see something new or different. Those payoffs were immense and truly inspirational. In Santa Fe, we stopped at Luckey Q BBQ, a single man and his smoker operation just off the Interstate. This I must say was the best (and perhaps cheapest) of our BBQ excursions. The proprietor was from Alabama and took a liking to us and drew us the most exquisitely earnest and confusing directions to Taos.
On the drive to Taos, we stopped at one of the spots by the Rio Grande River and considered jumping in, but the current was way too strong. In Taos, we met up with our friend Annie, her parents (Stan and Barbara) and her archeological comrades at the annual Pueblo Pow Wow held in Taos. The Native American clothing, singing and dancing was so gorgeous and the entire experience surreal. Annie and co are in Taos studying Comanche petroglyphs, weird Catholic sects and are staying at this commune New Buffalo that the commune in the film "Easy Rider" is modeled after. We celebrated Stan's birthday and spent the night there singing songs.
In the morning, I went into town to check out the scene. Still a real funky little place, but has gotten a bit touristy. Nonetheless, it exudes and revels in a strangeness, a sort of ephemeral quality that makes putting your finger on its charm difficult. Annie's parents had rented a house on the river, so we all went over there in the afternoon. Happy hour started early and it was magical just laying in the hammock, swimming in the river and indulging in the most wild of nature fantasy. So perfect. That night we slept in the sleep porch, listening to bugs, the sound of the river and being roused by the sun and the music of morning birds.
After this tour, we drove out to Flagstaff, Arizona. On the way however, we stopped at Petrified Forest National Park...a site of staggering beauty. In all these descriptions, keep in mind that the sights are really beyond words. There's not even a way to photograph them well, much less talk about or describe them. Perhaps that, then, is the essence, the mystery, the charm of the Southwest that I've been unable to put my finger on. Pictures, ultimately will tell the story better than I possibly could and so I'll defer to a scenic photo montage...(regrettably it's not in 3-D)...
From Petrified Forest, we journey onward to the world's only verified and best preserved Meteor Crater. For some reason I thought we were heading to Crater Lake, and the realization only dawned on me as I started to put the exorbitant entry price and other small details together that I discovered that we were not at a state or national park, but rather at, what I will deem, the most corporate meteor crater in the world. It was just a strange place, like a roadside gimmick and it attracted that sort of people. Yet, the crater itself was so compelling and majestic, making the world around it even more absurd by comparison. I sat on the edge just watching and contemplating for a long time, trying to imagine, wonder. It was that sort of place. But also, totally hokey.
In Flagstaff, we stayed at a Motel 6. Bookmark this, because it makes our lodging accommodations the next night even more outrageous. Too tired to do anything and unwilling to provoke the volatile Arizona night, we just bought a six pack. For the first time in a year we were able to purchase Moose Drool brewed by Big Sky Brewing Company out of Missoula, Montana. This beer is legendary in our circles as it is only distributed in select locations (such as Flagstaff, apparently) and definitely not anywhere near the East Coast. We knew we had arrived. Too tired to drink and stuffed with chili cheese fries we retired.
I woke up early the next morning and as I always did, when possible, journey into town looking for the freshest cup of black gold. Discovered Late for The Train, a gem, which roasts its own coffee beans - as they say in the field, solid bro. Then onwards to the Grand Canyon. We opted for the North Rim figuring it'd be less crowded. It was, but it also takes like 4 hours to get to, in brutal, shadeless heat. You go through Navajo and other Native American reservations to get there, which was eye-opening. Lots of little road side stands with natives trying to peddle some commercial version of their culture. But even these sole landmarks, if you can call them that, were few and far between. Mostly it was just desert and cliffs. That Southwest monotony I was talking about, except eventually you get the Vermillion Cliffs (1st photo), Kaibab National Forest (2nd photo) and finally the Grand Canyon. From cliffs to the lush green of pastures on the forest to the tons of burned out, barren trees, it was like being in some magic place in the clouds. Factor in an altitude of almost two miles and you're looking at a real visual and psychological headrush! Once again for the Grand Canyon, I really can't do it justice and so will defer to photograph evidence that says, "Hey! I've been there." As preface, I will say that we hiked nearly two and a half miles into the canyon on the mule route.
Needless to say, hiking after 12 days after traveling depleted the last of our energies. We munched at the Jacob Lake Inn, which has the most amazing blueberry pie ever. We then had to decide how to proceed. Back to Flagstaff was roughly the same distance to Las Vegas, yet from Las Vegas to Los Angeles was about three hours shorter than from Flagstaff to Los Angeles, so we said, "What the hell!" and lit out for Las Vegas, figuring we'd find a cheap place just outside city limits. I wanted to see The Strip, but had no desire to "do" Vegas. Well, turns out you can only stay in the sprawl of Vegas or in a town based on a casino somewhere along the way. We went from inn to inn, all too expensive, getting more cranky by the minute when finally a gracious desk attendant told us to use the hotel computer and book a room at the Luxor for cheap on Expedia, which is exactly what we did! For $60 and a night after staying in a Motel 6, we staying the Luxor Resort and Casino, shaped like a pyramid, but glass, in the heart of Las Vegas. We were too tired to go out at all though and simply crashed.
The next morning I was eager make the final push to Los Angeles and so, I only bet one dollar to simply be able to say that I had gambled in Vegas. Then out through the insanely hot desert. There's really not much to report on this final leg except that the Mojave Desert, or at least its outskirts are hot and beautiful, but mostly hot.
And so this, my friends, and dear readers (bravo to you if you actually made it through these mad ramblings!) is where I will leave you: in the city of Los Angeles, a city like an ant farm. And I will do my best to update with the best of the adventures had here so far in the next few days - certainly before I take off for the slightly more temperate Northwest.
what a great adventure. well documented and now I want to ride along on the return eastward.
ReplyDeletethe videos were so expressive, particularly the car sing-along and the dancing crow. looking forward to more footage from the land of lala up to the van-of-couver.