It must be something to do with coming from a flat, barren topography that makes the mountains so majestic and beautiful in my mind. They are awe-inspiring and I gape with wonder.
As I neared the Great Smoky Mountains, I nearly exploded with wonder at their dense, green blanket and low wispy clouds. The steamy, jungly smell of the forest and the vivid green appealed so strongly to me.
That combination of green and mountain is completely fascinating to someone who lives on the edge of the desert and where there is only one place in town to practise handbrake starts.
I can tell I’m going to love this part of America.
It feels kind of strange to sneak up on a National Monument from behind, but that’s what happens when you come from the west to a monument signifying the gateway to the west.
I joined a throng of Americans to go up to the top of the 630 foot tall Gateway Arch, which kind of looks like a massive half of a McDonald’s M, just in silver. In the capsule to the top, a guy commented “I’m surprised McDonald’s hasn’t set up shop next door” echoing what I was thinking.
Kansas City got really exciting tonight as I filled the evening with a number of firsts, starting with my first visit to Chipotle to pick up a burrito for dinner.
Chipotle is a chain of Subway-like Mexican that has taken America by storm. I’ve heard so many people ooh over it, but had never ventured in until Hiker Buddy Brian and I popped in for a quick bite before heading to another first, a professional soccer game.
We then drove to the game in Hiker Buddy Brian’s black Mustang convertible, my first ride in a convertible. That was quite exciting and I felt super cool as we drove at 70 miles an hour on the freeway with the wind blowing wisps of hair around my face and with me playing my fingers in the wind.
The brand new Sporting Kansas City soccer stadium is right next door to Kansas Speedway, so we ended up parking in the speedway parking lot fairly far away from the stadium. I started to get giggles of excitement as I saw those iconic yellow school buses in the lot and I predicted that they would shuttle us to the stadium. I could scarcely contain my excitement as that prediction came true and I was soon climbing aboard one with the awe and wonder of a small child. Whilst they cannot hold a candle to the school buses kids in Australia travel on, and are historic relics that somehow keep plying the bus routes with the bare minimum of fittings, I was completely enthralled in the experience and emerged hot and perspiring but jubilant.
According to Hiker Buddy Brian, scalping is de rigour and an accepted practice in America. As we didn’t have tickets for the game, which had already started, I was looking forward to that first experience too, but there were no scalpers and we had to do a lap around the stadium to get to the box office.
Excited to be at my first professional soccer match
Inside, we found vacant seats close enough to our allocated seats down the end closest to the Sporting Kansas City supporters who were cheering loudly and bringing a crazy, festive atmosphere to the ground. I couldn’t help but smile and be in a good mood.
Shortly after sitting down, we saw Kansas City score the very first goal in the newly built stadium. They’d only played one previous game in the venue which was a draw at nil all. Confetti burst out from behind the goals, the crowd jumped to their feet and cheered as loud as their voices would allow them. It was so much fun.
I bought a bag of peanuts in their shells at half time, because the cashier had a little sticker on front of the register saying “Would you like peanuts with that?”. I wasn’t sure what to do with the shells as it is a messy process and I’d never eaten them at a special event. Hiker Buddy Brian told me to throw them on the ground. My littering sensibilities struggled with this. I looked at him and said “Really?” and he was like “Yeah, of course, they come through and clean everything up afterwards.” I was still hesitant. If I didn’t throw the shells on the ground, it would be easier for them to clean up, but the only other place I could put them was back in the bag with the ones I still had to shell and eat. I tentatively tossed one on the ground under the seat in front of me and felt desperately naughty. I then countered with the argument “why would you want to throw them on the ground and make a mess at your feet”. But with little other choice and hankering for salty peanuts, I threw the shells on the ground, kicking them under the seat in front of me so as to avoid getting the shells and skins between my toes.
It was so much fun. A night of calculating firsts and then to top it all off, from the safety of the apartment, we watched an amazing thunderstorm sweep across the city with flashes of light, cracking lightning bolts and some claps of thunder that made you feel as if you’d been cuffed behind the ear.
The big billboards along the interstate between New Mexico and Texas announced that I could follow the Yellow Brick Road to Dorothy’s house and the Land of Oz. After Googling where the Land of Oz was, I found that it would be on my way to Kansas City, well on my way via one possible route.
The significance of this little tourist attraction was not lost on me as the company we set up in LA is called Yellow Brick Films, with an origin steeped in Wizard of Oz fascination.
I was prepared to be overcome by tackiness at the attraction, clearly the only reason people would actually stop in Liberal, Kansas. However I was completely taken aback and overcome by the sweetness of the experience.
Our teenage guide showed us through a replica of Dorothy’s house, pointing out things like how food was kept fresh and how to churn butter. I think there were others on the tour who had had first-hand experiences with those vintage implements.
Then our guide morphed into Dorothy as we entered a big shed with “Land of Oz” painted above the door. Her drama classes paid off as she led us along the yellow brick road past life-size dioramas of the story and she narrated in the first person of Dorothy.
I was completely surprised. It hadn’t expected to admire it so much and was super glad to have made the stop. So with a big grin, I spent up at the little gift shop and noticed how the Emerald City looks like a bunch of silos painted green.
As I was driving along the I-40 highway (major interstate freeway) from New Mexico to Texas, I started getting excited about what the Welcome to Texas sign would say. New Mexico’s Land of Enchantment signs were cool, as were the Utah – Life Elevated ones.
I expected big and brashy. Maybe a Stetson shaped sign like the Arby’s chain restaurant has. Maybe a big cow cut-out like those that adorn the hills of Spain. Or a giant oil well with neon letters spelling out the greeting.
But no. It was a no-frills, ordinary looking green highway sign that didn’t match up to the Texan reputation.
Upon arrival in Flagstaff, Arizona, I felt the vibe.
That vibe that makes you want to stay longer and check it all out.
Downtown Flagstaff is so quaint and filled with cafes, restaurants, bars and breweries, outdoors stores, art galleries and people. I guess as a jumping off point for the Grand Canyon, it sees it’s fair share of visitors, but there is so much fun to be had wandering the streets and photographing the aging accommodation signs.
I spent the day wandering the streets soaking up the atmosphere, talking to people, buying vintage dresses and after discovering a festival on Saturday, decided to stay a couple more days.
A major freight route cuts through Flagstaff and more than 100 freight trains per day pass through. I counted one train while sitting at pub with 4 locomotives at the front, two at the back and 169 carriages. Most of the carriages had two containers stacked on top of each other. So much freight. I think the trains I love the most are the ones transporting semi truck trailers on the carriages. I had never seen that before, but I guess it makes sense.
With a population of 65,000 it reminds me of home and I look forward to seeing what else the place has in store for me.
My map told me to take a small detour off the I40 freeway to follow the scenic Route 66.
It wasn’t overly scenic. Not in the way I have come to expect from scenic routes in America.
So instead I added additional time and miles to my trip to the Grand Canyon. Whilst Route 66 is the iconic American road trip, I don’t think I’d want to do it solo. I think the strange, zig-zagging path I’m taking is far more interesting.
Two weeks of camping has opened my eyes as to the whole RV thing that grips America’s retirees.
At the campsites I’ve stayed at, most people have been in RVs or been towing massive caravans that require special truck hook ups. After home ownership, I think an RV is the great American dream. Or maybe it’s just that Americans work so hard during their life that when they reach retirement, they want to see their country from the comfort of a plush, fully fitted out mobile home. I’m yet to be invited inside one, but I hope to achieve that before my trip is out.
Here are a few random observations followed by one big tip.
There are different categories of RV. There are the shorter ones, the truck mounted ones all the way through to the deluxe pop out coaches
Hiring an RV is also popular with El Monte RV and Cruise America the two dominant companies
90% of the luxury bus ones are towing a car, often a four wheel drive
Many of them have bikes, which I guess leads to all those Metamucil and insurance stereotype ads of retirees riding bikes
Some also carry motorbikes or boats. Sometimes they have the full gamut of recreational vehicle options with car, motorbike, bikes, ATV AND canoe.
They like to wear merchandise from the sights they’ve visited, bringing greater meaning to the saying “been there, bought the t-shirt/cap/entire gift shop up”
And finally, my hot tip comes after I saw a couple spend about 15 minutes hooking their big GMC four wheel drive to the back of their bus. It was the type of hookup that pulls the car along on four rolling wheels. After going over everything, the couple jumped into their luxury coach and took off down the road. As they started off, it became clear that the car was still in park and the rear wheels protested and squealed and jumped and bounced burning rubber and creating big flat spots in the tyres. It drew quite the crowd of tent campers and took the driver about 150m to realise there was a problem and stop to inspect. So when you are towing a car, always do one final check to make sure you’re in neutral and have released the handbrake.
You know when you make a plan to do something, stop somewhere, and all of a sudden you find yourself in a vortex of white line fever (or here in the US it is yellow line fever).
I had one of those days. I wanted to stop off at a couple of places along the way to Monument Valley, but that didn’t happen because I was just too comfortable driving and sitting in the car.
The view from Esmeralda
I had also planned to camp at Monument Valley, but after a look-see, decided to press on to Moab. I didn’t stop to see anything else along the way and had to content myself with taking photos through the windscreen. I was in a drive frame of mind and crunched 350 miles.
Corn chips, I’ve found, are a great way to meet other campers.
After a wander around Kanab, Utah where I popped in to a documentary screening during a local festival (incidentally where I was asked very seriously by one lady if we have popcorn in Australia) I came back to my campsite to find I had neighbours.
The guy running the campground intercepted me on the way back and said “You have some neighbours, I thought they might be able to entertain you.” He’d said something similar to them when allocating their site that he’d put them next to the Australian girl.
Anyways, the three Swiss guys next door turned out to be great company, something that was cemented as we were sitting around having a drink and I pulled out a bag of corn chips. As one thing leads to another, so the corn chips led to us cooking chicken curry and rice together for dinner and then pancakes in the morning.
Food is meant to be shared and I’ve learned that corn chips are made for sharing. So now every shopping list starts with a bag of corn chips.
It must be something to do with coming from a flat, barren topography that makes the mountains so majestic and beautiful in my mind. They are awe-inspiring and I gape with wonder.
a little cameo 