Denver is behind me.
I will definitely miss having the mountains in view in the distance and the city at my fingertips, all at the same time. It is a wonderful feeling to be able to be in the center of all the action now, and in a matter of an hour be high in the mountains watching the elk. The Denver Art Museum, awesome Japanese restaurants, street performers, so many drunk people in the streets at 2am, 16th street mall, The Tattered Cover (awesome bookstore), Paris on the Platte with a new amazing friend, and a 100 year old house to stay in. All the things I will miss about the mile high city, and more.
As much fun as I may have had, I miss the road. New towns, new places, different people. There are always new experiences to have and interesting people to meet.
Something notable in New Mexico, after visiting friends in Rio Rancho. I preferred to drive at night due to the heat, so I departed their apartment after dark. I wasn't paying close attention to my gas gauge, and of course my gas light goes on. Being 100 miles from nowhere, I knew I had to stop at the next station I could find. I follow an exit to gas, but in the distance the station looks very dim, probably closed. I go over anyway, planning to sleep there until they open, as I don't know where the next station will be.
Amid the dim lights, old gas pumps, broken pavement and a dilapidated building, I pull in wondering if I'm going to get carjacked. The place is in the middle of nowhere of course, and is not a really welcoming sight. It turns out it is open. I pull next to a gas pump, look all around, and when I decide there are no visible threats, get out to pump gas. The card reader on the pump is not working so I'll have to go in and see if I can pay by credit in there, as that is my preferred payment method. The small station is apparently empty when I walk it, and I make some casual people noises to draw attention. In a minute or two a middle aged woman comes out. She is missing most of her teeth but is very nice. She informs me that I can pay by credit inside.
I go back out and commence pumping. I realize that the only octane that they have is 85, which is probably drinkable. I also notice that they are charging a premium price for this gasoline flavored water, about $3.50 a gallon. Since I have to put gas in I settle for $15 just to get me by. After that the woman has to swipe my card no less than 10 times to get it to work, even after my offer to give her my little bit of cash to pay for it.
I leave the building and do a complete circuit of my car before driving away, not wanting to take any chances. My car runs a bit rough and my mileage drops somewhat.
After El Paso, there is about 500 miles of absolutely nothing in the mini mountains of west Texas. Luckily I found a maniac trucker to draft who liked to haul it down the interstate at about 90 mph. I couldn't have asked for more. 90mph + very little wind resistance = great time over boring landscape and 40+ miles per gallon.
I was a happy guy when I made it to Houston and finally found good gasoline at a better price. In contrast to the NM situation, I can fill up with 91 octane for about $2.98 per gallon. I still miss when I used to pay .99 but that's why I drive a Honda.
In my travels I've left behind awesome scenery and great people. People in general from regions as well as specific people that leave you longing. I don't think I will ever have a replacement for the road as a most satisfying way of life.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Monday, June 18, 2007
I can't seem to get my head out of the clouds
An update on the mine I explored: After getting lost in the Denver Public Library for a while, I believe I may have discovered the name of the mine. It may or may not be correct, but I believe it is called the King Solomon mine. I'm not sure why. I then researched that name on the Internet trying to find out when it was active, and for how long. It turns out that there is not much documentation on mines that I could find. I only found one small note on a King Solomon mine in Colorado, which said it was a Uranium mine. I think this is unlikely to be the same one.
Here is an overview of my many trips into the mountains.
The mountains offered a much greater experience than the original trail I took in IL. While on the Hennepin Canal I was very bored, seeing the same thing all the time with little challenge after the first few days. The mountain paths always offer amazing scenery and a challenging hike going up or down. I felt like I could hike the mountains for weeks without getting bored.
I still can't decide whether hiking up or down a mountain is more difficult. While going up, you just wish it were over. Gazing on a seemingly endless trail up, you continually think you can see the top, but it always turns out to be a slight turn in the trail, or some trees that made the trail look shorter. All you can do it pull your legs up one at a time and focus on each step rather than the whole trail.
If you eat breakfast after you head out, things are quite a bit easier. Lesson learned.
That was my first mountain hike, where my intention was to take a short trail (3 miles round trip) with a minor elevation change (about 1000 ft). I ate a very small breakfast and thought I would take that trail in a couple of hours with no problem.
Using my awesome navigation skills I managed to take the wrong path. This lead me to a 7 mile, one way hike with about 2500 feet of elevation increase. How fun. Luckily I found a trail head at the seven mile mark that lead me out to a shuttle buss back to my car. Otherwise it would have been probably about a 15 or 16 mile hike back to the car. I wouldn't have had time in the day for that as I started about noon.
Rocky Mountain National Park has an awesome trail system with rangers at most of the trail heads to answer questions and also to make sure aren't being too much of an idiot. There are shuttle buses all around the park to that you can leave your car at a central lot and just ride to your trail head.
Driving around the park will inevitably lead you to the Trail Ridge Road, which carries you to some of the most amazing views that I have ever seen.
Along that highway is when I discovered that the temperature in those high altitude areas can drop from 60 degrees to the 30s in a matter of a half hour. I was in shorts taking a short hike in the tundra when this happened, with ominous black clouds forming in the distance and bearing down on me.
Traveling around anywhere in the mountains will lead you through some very strange weather. At one point it is sunny and clear. A few minutes later the sky goes dark. You would swear that hell itself is going to rain down on you. Then it drizzles a bit. In a short time it is clear and sunny again, until more clouds come a pour buckets on you, but only for 30 seconds or so. You definitely don't get bored with the weather, but it's terribly difficult to have a barbecue.
I had my sights set on Longs Peak as soon as I saw it. It towers over the other mountains nearby as it is the only one over 14000 feet in Rocky Mountain National Park. After a bit of research I discovered that my time in in the mountains would not allow me to scale that peak. You have to do it during the warmest periods of the year unless you have technical climbing gear and experience, which I have neither of... yet.
My first 14er turned out to be Mount Evans. This is the main peak you see in the distance when you are in Denver. It is just about due west of the mile high city.
There were 5 people and a dog in the team that hiked up to the top. There is a road to up this mountain, but we were gluttons for punishment and walked it. It actually turned out to be rather easy with only a 6 M hike to the top with 2000 feet of elevation gain. Of course the trail I wanted to walk would have been 16 miles round trip with 5800 total feet of elevation gain, but then I like to do things that should kill me. I'm not sure I would have made it through that hike, but I would have tried.
We made it to the parking lot at the top and then ate a bit and finished the climb to the true summit, a bit higher by a couple hundred feet. The view from up there is incredible. You can see where the Denver metro area is, though I couldn't really make out the buildings. Longs peak laughs at you in the distance, mocking your easy hike, and to the south you can see Pikes Peak, wishing it was as tall as Evans.
I was the only one wearing my pack up at the summit (I had my tripod in it), making it a little challenging to get up and down do to my higher center of gravity. On the way down, I managed to slip and fall, sliding down a bit and bending a hiking pole in the process, laughing the whole time.
Here is an overview of my many trips into the mountains.
The mountains offered a much greater experience than the original trail I took in IL. While on the Hennepin Canal I was very bored, seeing the same thing all the time with little challenge after the first few days. The mountain paths always offer amazing scenery and a challenging hike going up or down. I felt like I could hike the mountains for weeks without getting bored.
I still can't decide whether hiking up or down a mountain is more difficult. While going up, you just wish it were over. Gazing on a seemingly endless trail up, you continually think you can see the top, but it always turns out to be a slight turn in the trail, or some trees that made the trail look shorter. All you can do it pull your legs up one at a time and focus on each step rather than the whole trail.
If you eat breakfast after you head out, things are quite a bit easier. Lesson learned.
That was my first mountain hike, where my intention was to take a short trail (3 miles round trip) with a minor elevation change (about 1000 ft). I ate a very small breakfast and thought I would take that trail in a couple of hours with no problem.
Using my awesome navigation skills I managed to take the wrong path. This lead me to a 7 mile, one way hike with about 2500 feet of elevation increase. How fun. Luckily I found a trail head at the seven mile mark that lead me out to a shuttle buss back to my car. Otherwise it would have been probably about a 15 or 16 mile hike back to the car. I wouldn't have had time in the day for that as I started about noon.
Rocky Mountain National Park has an awesome trail system with rangers at most of the trail heads to answer questions and also to make sure aren't being too much of an idiot. There are shuttle buses all around the park to that you can leave your car at a central lot and just ride to your trail head.
Driving around the park will inevitably lead you to the Trail Ridge Road, which carries you to some of the most amazing views that I have ever seen.
Along that highway is when I discovered that the temperature in those high altitude areas can drop from 60 degrees to the 30s in a matter of a half hour. I was in shorts taking a short hike in the tundra when this happened, with ominous black clouds forming in the distance and bearing down on me.
Traveling around anywhere in the mountains will lead you through some very strange weather. At one point it is sunny and clear. A few minutes later the sky goes dark. You would swear that hell itself is going to rain down on you. Then it drizzles a bit. In a short time it is clear and sunny again, until more clouds come a pour buckets on you, but only for 30 seconds or so. You definitely don't get bored with the weather, but it's terribly difficult to have a barbecue.
I had my sights set on Longs Peak as soon as I saw it. It towers over the other mountains nearby as it is the only one over 14000 feet in Rocky Mountain National Park. After a bit of research I discovered that my time in in the mountains would not allow me to scale that peak. You have to do it during the warmest periods of the year unless you have technical climbing gear and experience, which I have neither of... yet.
My first 14er turned out to be Mount Evans. This is the main peak you see in the distance when you are in Denver. It is just about due west of the mile high city.
There were 5 people and a dog in the team that hiked up to the top. There is a road to up this mountain, but we were gluttons for punishment and walked it. It actually turned out to be rather easy with only a 6 M hike to the top with 2000 feet of elevation gain. Of course the trail I wanted to walk would have been 16 miles round trip with 5800 total feet of elevation gain, but then I like to do things that should kill me. I'm not sure I would have made it through that hike, but I would have tried.
We made it to the parking lot at the top and then ate a bit and finished the climb to the true summit, a bit higher by a couple hundred feet. The view from up there is incredible. You can see where the Denver metro area is, though I couldn't really make out the buildings. Longs peak laughs at you in the distance, mocking your easy hike, and to the south you can see Pikes Peak, wishing it was as tall as Evans.
I was the only one wearing my pack up at the summit (I had my tripod in it), making it a little challenging to get up and down do to my higher center of gravity. On the way down, I managed to slip and fall, sliding down a bit and bending a hiking pole in the process, laughing the whole time.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Inside The Mountain
Apparently hiking on the mountains wasn't good enough.
I'm on my way out to Mount Evans, on a winding road through valleys at about 7000 feet. I'm enjoying the scenery, and its a relaxing drive. On my right, up about 20 feet on the side of the mountain I notice something. On a small terrace, barely visible and out of the corner of my eye, I think I see a hole in the side of this particular mountain. I tell myself it can't be anything great, as I see small holes and very shallow caves plenty in the mountains. The thing that drew me the most is that I thought I saw timbers framing the side of this cave.
Of course I had to stop. You never know, it just might be a deeper cave, or maybe even a mine!
I always have high hopes, but I expect the worst. Even if it were a mine, it would have been sealed when exhausted, and what I saw was just the beginning. Surely it was blasted shut decades ago.
I park my car on the side of the road, near a fast moving stream, grab my hiking poles and a small flashlight and head up the side of the mountain. There is a path to the terrace.
I was correct in what I saw, definitely a mine, supported on the sides and top by large timbers. I notice inside that there is strewn rock, wood planks, and a small opening going deeper. Of course this opening is covered by a gray metal grate.
I carefully make my way to the back of the 30 foot cave, making sure that I wasn't stepping above a mine shaft that could lead to my untimely demise with a fall of who-knows-how far, if the wood planks were to break.
Upon close inspection of the grate, I discover that it is actually a hatch of sorts with hinges on the right side and a nice Master lock on the left. The entire opening is about 2 feet square, pretty small.
I tug on the hatch, and it opens easily.
The hinges are broken on the right side, the only thing holding it in place is the lock.
It swings open just enough for a person of my size to slip through.
I can see for about 20 feet beyond the opening, but nothing beyond. It seems like it goes fairly deep. I fail to hear an echo.
A normal person at this point would probably think hey this is pretty cool, but who knows what's in there, or if there are any vertical shafts to fall into, and simply walk away. Well, I walked away, but only because I had other goals for that day, playtime on Mount Evans, and I figured it would be smart to get a partner to wait at the opening while I explore, so that if I don't come back out they can tell my friends and family.
My common sense was short lived. On my second trip to Evans the snow was still high and it started to rain. I couldn't help my self this time.
Stopping on the side of the road again, I grab a mini-mag lite flashlight, finger light, digital camera, hat, and headlamp. I notice a Jeep Cherokee pull up behind me and three adults and 2 children get out and walk up to the mouth of the cave. I check the brightness of my numerous flashlights to make sure they have fresh batteries and head up.
The family is up there taking pics at the mouth of the cave and enjoying themselves. They are nice and we talk for awhile about the mine. The two male adults are looking through the hatch and kidding to each other about going in. I mention that it would be cool, and they start talking about the mouth of the cave, and how the roof looks like it is broken up, ready to cave in. It seems like they spooked themselves, because they are less inclined to be inside after that. One of them says he likes panning for gold and shows me a stone with shiny stuff in it. He says this is mixed with quartz and gold ore, which they melt down to get the gold out of, or something along those lines. He takes a rock to send to his mining friend in Georgia. They bid me farewell, and tell me to have fun. I don't think they had any idea that I was actually going in.
After they leave, I take my headlamp out of my pocket and put it on. I probably looked rather amusing. I bid my farewell to the world of light and slip through the small opening in the grate. In retrospect, it seems that my instinct for self preservation may be broken.
Even I will have to admit being a bit nervous on the other side of that threshold. I was acutely aware of the thousands of tons of rock over my head at first.
The main passageway is approximately 20 feet wide, and between 8 and 10 feet high at this point. All sides are unevenly cut. I see the same broken wood planks on the floor of the cave, about 3 or 4 feet wide, running along the center. I see a few old pipes under these, and some running water. The pipes are mostly broken and the trough has become a small stream flowing out. I can only assume that it goes beneath the the entrance, as the small hatch is about 4 feet above the floor of the cave, set in rock.
I'm 50 feet in and the sound of the stream outside fades into the silence. The main corridor seems to be the only part of the cave at this point, continuing straight for the entirety of the mine. Only after a good 10 minutes of walking do I find any offshoots. The main corridor was straight as an arrow, and I could always see the entrance, even when it was only a pinprick in the distance.
I wasn't walking fast, but I was traveling deeper into the mine for a good 20 minutes. I passed up 3 or 4 side corridors at first, meaning to see them on the way out. I didn't want to get confused as to where the exit was. I didn't have a compass on me, nor was a drawing a map. My concern turned out to be unfounded when I saw the arrows painted on the walls of the side caves, pointing the direction to the entrance. I was amazed at how new the paint looked, but it was flecking a little with age. Then I remembered that almost no erosion happens there. There is no wind, no rain, no sunlight. Those arrows could have been there for decades.
OK so how deep is he going to go? What stops me? Not fear of a cave in, and not concern about my batteries running out, or the strange sounds you hear when there is no other sound.
Water is what stopped me. I was wearing shoes that had large vents in them, top and bottom. I wasn't going to get that nasty muck in my shoes.
It was only moist for most of the mine, but when I got to the point when the main cave was getting narrow, only about 3 or 4 feet wide, it dropped a bit, and the drainage system stopped working. I was blocked by about 3 or 4 inches of water. I needed boots. On the way back there were a few rooms on the left side, and narrow corridors on the right. The one corridor that looked promising was flooded as well.
There was also an opening that went up about 15 or 20 feet on one side that was another extension, another reason to get better shoes or boots with good tread so I can climb that slick rock.
As I leave the cave I am assaulted by the bright sunlight near the beginning. What previously seemed very dark was now quite bright to my night adjusted eyes.
All in all, it was a good experience. Sadly no old machinery or skeletons, but then again I didn't see the entire thing. Luckily no toxic gasses, deadly snakes or spiders. Otherwise someone would have been finding my skeleton in there.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
I love getting high
In the mountains, that is.
I live in downtown Denver now, at least for the next month or so. I don't know how I thought that I would be satisfied with only a week or two in the mountains. There is so much to see and explore here. I really feel I made the right decision to drive here. I live in a great house and have a great roommate, plus I'm only a few blocks from the center of all the action in Denver.
This particular house is over 100 years old, and is completely restored on the inside. It has three bedrooms, 2 1/2 bathrooms and ten foot ceilings on the first and second floors. It also has a 2 car garage. The small basement even has it's share of strange doors that lead to a mini crawl-tunnel under the house, and a doorway that just ends in a wall of earth. I love old houses.
My roommate is also quite awesome, although she is trying to get me to watch television, and it is working... a little. To top it all off, she loves to cook.
Walking distance from this great house is Denver's 16th Street Mall, an entire road blocked to normal traffic. You can sit and people watch all day, seeing business professionals in their suits, wandering snowboarders, hippies, and street performers.
I was feeling under utilized and I decided I should get an easy job to pass the time on the weekdays, and fix this negative cash flow that I've had going on. I hate negative cash flow.
I got a job at a local fireworks store, thinking that would be cool, but it turned out to be warehouse work for crappy pay. I thought if it was fun that I wouldn't care.
That lasted for 2 days, when I suddenly had better things to do.
I go into the mountains often, taking pictures and climbing around. I'll be spending some time in Rocky Mountain National Park soon.
Mount Evans, my first mountain to climb on, is very snowy. I thought I was all prepared to be on the mountain, but it turns out I need snowshoes for this time of year. I'm willing to bet that in the colder weather, the snow is hard enough to walk on, but in the springtime only some of it is. The snow was waist deep. I never knew which leg was going to sink in the snow, and when one did it went all the way. It was quite random and must have been very amusing to watch, if anyone did.
There is a road that leads to the top of the mountain, but it was still closed for the season to vehicles. That was fine with me. I'm all about hiking, so I hiked the road for a while, then drove around for a while in the mountains.
There was one more thing that I found when heading to Mount Evans, good enough to go back and explore, but that story is for the next post.
I live in downtown Denver now, at least for the next month or so. I don't know how I thought that I would be satisfied with only a week or two in the mountains. There is so much to see and explore here. I really feel I made the right decision to drive here. I live in a great house and have a great roommate, plus I'm only a few blocks from the center of all the action in Denver.
This particular house is over 100 years old, and is completely restored on the inside. It has three bedrooms, 2 1/2 bathrooms and ten foot ceilings on the first and second floors. It also has a 2 car garage. The small basement even has it's share of strange doors that lead to a mini crawl-tunnel under the house, and a doorway that just ends in a wall of earth. I love old houses.
My roommate is also quite awesome, although she is trying to get me to watch television, and it is working... a little. To top it all off, she loves to cook.
Walking distance from this great house is Denver's 16th Street Mall, an entire road blocked to normal traffic. You can sit and people watch all day, seeing business professionals in their suits, wandering snowboarders, hippies, and street performers.
I was feeling under utilized and I decided I should get an easy job to pass the time on the weekdays, and fix this negative cash flow that I've had going on. I hate negative cash flow.
I got a job at a local fireworks store, thinking that would be cool, but it turned out to be warehouse work for crappy pay. I thought if it was fun that I wouldn't care.
That lasted for 2 days, when I suddenly had better things to do.
I go into the mountains often, taking pictures and climbing around. I'll be spending some time in Rocky Mountain National Park soon.
Mount Evans, my first mountain to climb on, is very snowy. I thought I was all prepared to be on the mountain, but it turns out I need snowshoes for this time of year. I'm willing to bet that in the colder weather, the snow is hard enough to walk on, but in the springtime only some of it is. The snow was waist deep. I never knew which leg was going to sink in the snow, and when one did it went all the way. It was quite random and must have been very amusing to watch, if anyone did.
There is a road that leads to the top of the mountain, but it was still closed for the season to vehicles. That was fine with me. I'm all about hiking, so I hiked the road for a while, then drove around for a while in the mountains.
There was one more thing that I found when heading to Mount Evans, good enough to go back and explore, but that story is for the next post.
Monday, May 7, 2007
Mountains!
So I was quite lucky that I happened to have a friend going to Iowa on business, as I'd decided that another 1000 miles of cornfields was going to be a waste of time. I hitched a ride back home
I picked up my car and headed west, deciding to take the northern route on interstate 90. On the first day I made it to the middle of South Dakota and got 5 hours of sleep at a rest stop.
The second day on the road was rather eventful. All in one day I got to see the Badlands, Black Hills, Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse Memorial, and then stopped at Wall Drug.
The Badlands were nothing short of awesome. Towering rock formations stand in every direction, like jagged teeth in the distance. A road snakes its way through the park, with pull offs, and parking lots here and there to catch the most spectacular views. I was able to stop here for a few hours and do some hiking, as every inch of the park is open to wandering. There are a few man made trails that you can walk on, but they are only for convenience. Since the entire badlands area was formed and is continually changing due to rapid erosion, the impact of hikers in the area would be washed away in a matter of weeks or months. Its hard to describe the Badlands fully, you just have to go there and see it.
On the west side of the badlands you come to the town of Wall, which is the home of Wall Drug. This particular store has billboards all over the world, literally. On interstate 90, I must have seen well over a hundred billboards about Wall Drug, many of them saying "Free ice water in wall drug" or "Coffee 5 cents, wall drug".
Seriously, after someone drills something in your head enough times you can't help but succumb. Marketing works.
It actually turned out to be pretty cool, it's basically a massive gift shop and museum. I doubt many organizations have a larger collection of old west photographs. They sell everything from guns to clothes and books. They even still fill prescriptions.
In one hallway they had a very cool animated plastic T-Rex dinosaur display. All you could see was its very large head, with the rest of the body hidden behind a faux concrete wall. It was a very complete display with danger signs all over, rain forest animal sounds, and the sound of the dinosaur breathing while he moved a little bit.
I'm standing nearby this display looking at some of the old photographs and newspaper clippings. I notice that there are a couple of young children standing right in front of the dino, looking on in awe. Their parents are standing back about 20 feet looking at photos too. The kids are probably about 5 or 6 and they obviously think it is real. Cute kids.
Suddenly and without warning the dinosaur erupts in an ear splitting roar, red lights start flashing all over and the ground starts rumbling. The dinosaur lifts partway out of his big concrete cage, ready to climb out and eat the innocent bystanders.
I though that was cool, but what really got me was the terrified screams of the children as they sprinted away from the display and back to their parents. I couldn't stop laughing, and I'm not sure that the parents appreciated that. The father walks up near the dinosaur to retrieve the sandal that the little girl left behind when she bolted away.
The Black Hills were very beautiful, with dense forest everywhere and wildlife all over the place. I think it would be a great place to hike and camp. I wanted to see more but it is a big place and I was expected in Denver. Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse were very cool. I found out there is a hall of records near the faces of Mount Rushmore that was never completed. I wanted to see that but it's not open to the public.
Passing through the west side of South Dakota and Wyoming was more nothing than I ever thought I would see. I was sailing down country roads at about 90 mph passing up thousands of acres of ranches in no time at all. There is no cell phone service at all out there.
I stopped in Cheyenne, Wyoming, meeting some fellow wanderers. After a few hours of sleep and awoke ready for Denver.
With my first mountain view on my right hand side, I hit the interstate toward my destination city. When I got there, my friend was still in school so I just headed west oh highway 72, directly into the mountains. My car does not like the mountains. At 9000 feet, the air is pretty thin in comparison to Chicago, so my poor car had a considerable loss of power. I enjoyed some amazing views of snow capped mountains, and took lots of pictures.
I picked up my car and headed west, deciding to take the northern route on interstate 90. On the first day I made it to the middle of South Dakota and got 5 hours of sleep at a rest stop.
The second day on the road was rather eventful. All in one day I got to see the Badlands, Black Hills, Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse Memorial, and then stopped at Wall Drug.
The Badlands were nothing short of awesome. Towering rock formations stand in every direction, like jagged teeth in the distance. A road snakes its way through the park, with pull offs, and parking lots here and there to catch the most spectacular views. I was able to stop here for a few hours and do some hiking, as every inch of the park is open to wandering. There are a few man made trails that you can walk on, but they are only for convenience. Since the entire badlands area was formed and is continually changing due to rapid erosion, the impact of hikers in the area would be washed away in a matter of weeks or months. Its hard to describe the Badlands fully, you just have to go there and see it.
On the west side of the badlands you come to the town of Wall, which is the home of Wall Drug. This particular store has billboards all over the world, literally. On interstate 90, I must have seen well over a hundred billboards about Wall Drug, many of them saying "Free ice water in wall drug" or "Coffee 5 cents, wall drug".
Seriously, after someone drills something in your head enough times you can't help but succumb. Marketing works.
It actually turned out to be pretty cool, it's basically a massive gift shop and museum. I doubt many organizations have a larger collection of old west photographs. They sell everything from guns to clothes and books. They even still fill prescriptions.
In one hallway they had a very cool animated plastic T-Rex dinosaur display. All you could see was its very large head, with the rest of the body hidden behind a faux concrete wall. It was a very complete display with danger signs all over, rain forest animal sounds, and the sound of the dinosaur breathing while he moved a little bit.
I'm standing nearby this display looking at some of the old photographs and newspaper clippings. I notice that there are a couple of young children standing right in front of the dino, looking on in awe. Their parents are standing back about 20 feet looking at photos too. The kids are probably about 5 or 6 and they obviously think it is real. Cute kids.
Suddenly and without warning the dinosaur erupts in an ear splitting roar, red lights start flashing all over and the ground starts rumbling. The dinosaur lifts partway out of his big concrete cage, ready to climb out and eat the innocent bystanders.
I though that was cool, but what really got me was the terrified screams of the children as they sprinted away from the display and back to their parents. I couldn't stop laughing, and I'm not sure that the parents appreciated that. The father walks up near the dinosaur to retrieve the sandal that the little girl left behind when she bolted away.
The Black Hills were very beautiful, with dense forest everywhere and wildlife all over the place. I think it would be a great place to hike and camp. I wanted to see more but it is a big place and I was expected in Denver. Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse were very cool. I found out there is a hall of records near the faces of Mount Rushmore that was never completed. I wanted to see that but it's not open to the public.
Passing through the west side of South Dakota and Wyoming was more nothing than I ever thought I would see. I was sailing down country roads at about 90 mph passing up thousands of acres of ranches in no time at all. There is no cell phone service at all out there.
I stopped in Cheyenne, Wyoming, meeting some fellow wanderers. After a few hours of sleep and awoke ready for Denver.
With my first mountain view on my right hand side, I hit the interstate toward my destination city. When I got there, my friend was still in school so I just headed west oh highway 72, directly into the mountains. My car does not like the mountains. At 9000 feet, the air is pretty thin in comparison to Chicago, so my poor car had a considerable loss of power. I enjoyed some amazing views of snow capped mountains, and took lots of pictures.
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Police... of course
Geneseo is a nice town. It definitely has a small town feel because, well, it's a small town. I ended up having a long conversation with the owners of Roy's Taco House. They are very nice people and have good tacos.
I've discovered that wearing a backpack and walking around town looking tired makes you a bit of a celebrity. Everywhere I go people want to know where I'm from, where I'm going, how long I've walked and of course, "How heavy is that thing?" The daily life in small towns is quite slow in comparison to what I'm used to being near Chicago and all, so a hiker with a possible story is quite an event.
After Geneseo, I continued on the Hennepin canal into a town called Colona. There wasn't much there that I saw but I was just passing through. It was this town where I finally completed the canal trail. The total distance was somewhere between 60 and 70 miles I think.
I met a rather interesting fellow at the end of the canal who told me with his beer breath that he was a one man band who performed in the Quad City area. He offered to ferry me across the Rock River in his canoe, but he seemed pretty drunk. I have my digital camera and cell phone on me that probably won't work well after submersion. He seemed to be quite drunk. I told him thanks anyway and went on my way.
The the trail dead ended at the river with the canal, so I had to double back about a mile to get back to town. At that point the American Discovery Trail continues invisibly along the roads.
In a few miles I crossed the Rock River by way of highway bridge and it was getting dark. Needing a place to sleep I found a slightly wooded field and set up camp about 200 yards off of the highway. Paying for a place to sleep is overrated. Welcome to freedom.
I continued on through Silvis, East Moline and Moline in the morning. Not being overly interested in the city, and not wanting to be stuck in an urban area looking for a place to sleep, I hopped a city bus to get to the Centennial Bridge. The bus cost me a whopping eighty cents.
After I got off of the bus I got all covered in sunscreen, and walked across the Mississippi. They have a railroad bridge just down the river from the Centennial. It has a large section in the middle that disconnects and rotates so that the larger boats can get through.
I met three nice guys on the bike path going south from Davenport. They were drinking out of paper bags and had cans of Old Milwaukee laying about. I said hello to the fellow travelers but didn't have the time to make that much conversation. I asked them how far to the Buffalo Shores campground just south of Davenport and they told me 20 miles. It turned out to be 10 but that was alright since I wasn't going to make it there before dark anyway. They also informed me of all the places in the city that I could get a free breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was nice of them. I guess they are the type of people you want to meet if you're traveling on foot.
I had a bike path to travel on for the first two or so miles along the Mississippi then it ended and I was on the highways and byways again. Rain was in the forecast according to my handy dandy crank radio, and possibly storms.
I was just about to set up my tent to beat the rain when I saw another bridge going over the river about a mile and a half away. It turned out to be the 180 expressway bridge. I reached the bridge and set up my tent beneath it. It rained, but sadly no storms. Sleeping under a bridge. Am I a hobo yet?
Buffalo wasn't much of a town I discovered, it looked like it was dying with empty shops and buildings everywhere. I thought it was kind of sad. The campground was about one mile south on the main road.
The next morning I decided to walk to town for breakfast at the local diner. It was good food but on the way back to camp, the local police officer stops on the other side of the road. I wave and say hello and he waves me over. He ends up asking me for my ID and goes back to his car to run a check. I'm annoyed. I notice a small truck pulled over on the side of the road watching. When the officer comes back I ask if he was looking for someone he said no, and almost apologetically says he was just running a check because someone called in a complaint. He shakes my had and says have a good day. He was a nice guy, actually.
Obviously I must have looked like a scary guy, having a clean shave, wearing a rather nice Columbia jacket and clean khaki colored pants. How dare I walk down the road.
It is quite sad that people are so afraid of everyone else that you can't be a stranger without someone freaking out. Maybe if Buffalo was a little more welcoming it wouldn't be dying. I for one, don't plan to be back.
On the other hand, the campground was very nice. It is state run yet very well maintained, with nice sites and clean showers. The ranger there was quite nice and we had a lengthy conversation.
One of the old folks there in an RV offered me a ride to Muscatine, the next major town on my way. I've found that travelers have a kind of community. They are always willing to help other people of the road. We're all strangers, but all family too.
I'm considerably stronger now. The pack only seems heavy at the end of a day of walking. I still have blisters and my feet still bleed, but pain seems to become good company when we spend so much time together.
I've discovered that wearing a backpack and walking around town looking tired makes you a bit of a celebrity. Everywhere I go people want to know where I'm from, where I'm going, how long I've walked and of course, "How heavy is that thing?" The daily life in small towns is quite slow in comparison to what I'm used to being near Chicago and all, so a hiker with a possible story is quite an event.
After Geneseo, I continued on the Hennepin canal into a town called Colona. There wasn't much there that I saw but I was just passing through. It was this town where I finally completed the canal trail. The total distance was somewhere between 60 and 70 miles I think.
I met a rather interesting fellow at the end of the canal who told me with his beer breath that he was a one man band who performed in the Quad City area. He offered to ferry me across the Rock River in his canoe, but he seemed pretty drunk. I have my digital camera and cell phone on me that probably won't work well after submersion. He seemed to be quite drunk. I told him thanks anyway and went on my way.
The the trail dead ended at the river with the canal, so I had to double back about a mile to get back to town. At that point the American Discovery Trail continues invisibly along the roads.
In a few miles I crossed the Rock River by way of highway bridge and it was getting dark. Needing a place to sleep I found a slightly wooded field and set up camp about 200 yards off of the highway. Paying for a place to sleep is overrated. Welcome to freedom.
I continued on through Silvis, East Moline and Moline in the morning. Not being overly interested in the city, and not wanting to be stuck in an urban area looking for a place to sleep, I hopped a city bus to get to the Centennial Bridge. The bus cost me a whopping eighty cents.
After I got off of the bus I got all covered in sunscreen, and walked across the Mississippi. They have a railroad bridge just down the river from the Centennial. It has a large section in the middle that disconnects and rotates so that the larger boats can get through.
I met three nice guys on the bike path going south from Davenport. They were drinking out of paper bags and had cans of Old Milwaukee laying about. I said hello to the fellow travelers but didn't have the time to make that much conversation. I asked them how far to the Buffalo Shores campground just south of Davenport and they told me 20 miles. It turned out to be 10 but that was alright since I wasn't going to make it there before dark anyway. They also informed me of all the places in the city that I could get a free breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was nice of them. I guess they are the type of people you want to meet if you're traveling on foot.
I had a bike path to travel on for the first two or so miles along the Mississippi then it ended and I was on the highways and byways again. Rain was in the forecast according to my handy dandy crank radio, and possibly storms.
I was just about to set up my tent to beat the rain when I saw another bridge going over the river about a mile and a half away. It turned out to be the 180 expressway bridge. I reached the bridge and set up my tent beneath it. It rained, but sadly no storms. Sleeping under a bridge. Am I a hobo yet?
Buffalo wasn't much of a town I discovered, it looked like it was dying with empty shops and buildings everywhere. I thought it was kind of sad. The campground was about one mile south on the main road.
The next morning I decided to walk to town for breakfast at the local diner. It was good food but on the way back to camp, the local police officer stops on the other side of the road. I wave and say hello and he waves me over. He ends up asking me for my ID and goes back to his car to run a check. I'm annoyed. I notice a small truck pulled over on the side of the road watching. When the officer comes back I ask if he was looking for someone he said no, and almost apologetically says he was just running a check because someone called in a complaint. He shakes my had and says have a good day. He was a nice guy, actually.
Obviously I must have looked like a scary guy, having a clean shave, wearing a rather nice Columbia jacket and clean khaki colored pants. How dare I walk down the road.
It is quite sad that people are so afraid of everyone else that you can't be a stranger without someone freaking out. Maybe if Buffalo was a little more welcoming it wouldn't be dying. I for one, don't plan to be back.
On the other hand, the campground was very nice. It is state run yet very well maintained, with nice sites and clean showers. The ranger there was quite nice and we had a lengthy conversation.
One of the old folks there in an RV offered me a ride to Muscatine, the next major town on my way. I've found that travelers have a kind of community. They are always willing to help other people of the road. We're all strangers, but all family too.
I'm considerably stronger now. The pack only seems heavy at the end of a day of walking. I still have blisters and my feet still bleed, but pain seems to become good company when we spend so much time together.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Wow
I'm 5 days into my hike, and its a little different than I thought it would be. So far, the challenge is there, but boredom is the enemy.
The very first day of my hike, I walked about 15 miles. That was the average that I was hoping for per day. The first problem that arose was that I was definitely not prepared for this trip. My feelings about the challenge of hauling 55-60lbs on my back for miles and miles all day were sorely underrated. A bit more conditioning would have done me well. While it was really hard and painful, I was expecting this sort of thing as part of the package. Because I never had time to recover in the next days, it just got worse.
The second challenge was the development of many blisters on my feet, which also happened on the first day. I have no fewer than six, of which one on each foot bleeds with the abrasion of walking. My socks are bloodstained. My choice in shoes could have been better as well. Every step is painful, but worth it.
These initial days will be the hardest for sure, as I get strong and heal my feet. No pain no gain.
I thought there would be people on this trail like on the Appalachian Trail but I was mistaken. There is nobody except a few fisherman. I went the first 3 days without a town or anything. I definitely appreciate solitude, probably more than others, but a fellow hiker here and there would be nice. Additionally, I'm in the middle of cornfields most of the time. If I wanted to to walk through cornfields I could have stayed in McHenry County. A reevaluation of my goals on this trip are in order.
I like how hardy this makes a person, and the great challenge. The physical hardship is good for anyone, and I'll be happy to complete the Hennepin Canal trail and cross the Mississippi. As far as going through Iowa and Nebraska... it can only get worse as far as seeing things and meeting people.
The locks and bridges along the Hennepin are pretty cool. Some of them are not active, some are restored. You can almost imagine the barges going through and the towpaths which I walk being used. I do particularly enjoy the aqueducts as the streams below are quite clean.
On the third day I find a town. It's called Anawan. I see a local cop on some country road and ask him if there is anything in this town. He looks at me strangely and informs me that there is a grocer, laundry and to check out the best restaurant in town, called the Purple Onion.
I walk the next mile of the canal, take a left at a road, cross an interstate highway and find Anawan. The first thing I see is a gas station and my sweet tooth overwhelms me. I go in and scarf a package of Ho Ho's and pick up a Snickers bar for the road. I ask one of the locals there where I can find a restaurant called the Green Olive. She laughs and kindly informs me that the Purple Onion is down two blocks, take a right, two blocks.
I head that way, and find the post office. I go there and unload books, olive oil, Parmesan cheese, and unnecessary equipment. I send them back home. The lighter load makes me happy. The lady at the post office seems normal, so in passing I happen to mention that I'm going to the Purple Onion to eat. She gave me a weird look when I said that. She would not say anything bad about the place but I wondered what that look meant.
I stroll around the block to find the diner and see in the middle of downtown, a shabby section of white building with purple trim. Ugly, but interesting.
I felt like a baddie in an old western movie as I enter. I don't exactly look normal with this huge pack on my back with gear strapped everywhere. I walk through the door and judging from the looks I get I could have just slammed the door, pulled out a revolver and told everyone to hand over their cash and jewelry. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing and looked directly at me. A moment of complete motionless silence ensues. After my shock of the place wears off, I ask the waitress if I should seat myself. Life resumes normally.
I have never seen a more ramshackle restaurant. the chairs and tables looked like those that come out of a fifty year old house to be used in a rummage sale. I can see the kitchen from the "dining area" and it seems that the fridge came out of the same house. Thankfully, due to a half wall, I cannot see the cooking surfaces. I notice a dingy old house smell me as I sit, and I notice that our friendly police officer is having coffee with a group of gents old enough to be his grandfather.
The bacon double cheeseburger is okay and the fries are good. Once soft drink and a water later and I'm ready to go. The price was fair. The waitress was very good, so I tip her $5 and pay the bill. Over all, it was definitely an experience.
I do my laundry and charge my cell phone then head out of town to the trail.
Another day's walk, and I'm in the town of Geneseo. A town of 6000 that reminds me of Woodstock with nicer people. There is a real campground here so I am enjoying the shower immensely. I'm staying here for an extra night to try to heal my feet and aching body then I will move on. In a couple more days I will be at the Mississippi and then to Iowa. Unless I have some sort of epiphany that I want to spend my next few months in absolute boredom, I think I will probably make it a road trip to Denver, where I can do some real hiking.
The very first day of my hike, I walked about 15 miles. That was the average that I was hoping for per day. The first problem that arose was that I was definitely not prepared for this trip. My feelings about the challenge of hauling 55-60lbs on my back for miles and miles all day were sorely underrated. A bit more conditioning would have done me well. While it was really hard and painful, I was expecting this sort of thing as part of the package. Because I never had time to recover in the next days, it just got worse.
The second challenge was the development of many blisters on my feet, which also happened on the first day. I have no fewer than six, of which one on each foot bleeds with the abrasion of walking. My socks are bloodstained. My choice in shoes could have been better as well. Every step is painful, but worth it.
These initial days will be the hardest for sure, as I get strong and heal my feet. No pain no gain.
I thought there would be people on this trail like on the Appalachian Trail but I was mistaken. There is nobody except a few fisherman. I went the first 3 days without a town or anything. I definitely appreciate solitude, probably more than others, but a fellow hiker here and there would be nice. Additionally, I'm in the middle of cornfields most of the time. If I wanted to to walk through cornfields I could have stayed in McHenry County. A reevaluation of my goals on this trip are in order.
I like how hardy this makes a person, and the great challenge. The physical hardship is good for anyone, and I'll be happy to complete the Hennepin Canal trail and cross the Mississippi. As far as going through Iowa and Nebraska... it can only get worse as far as seeing things and meeting people.
The locks and bridges along the Hennepin are pretty cool. Some of them are not active, some are restored. You can almost imagine the barges going through and the towpaths which I walk being used. I do particularly enjoy the aqueducts as the streams below are quite clean.
On the third day I find a town. It's called Anawan. I see a local cop on some country road and ask him if there is anything in this town. He looks at me strangely and informs me that there is a grocer, laundry and to check out the best restaurant in town, called the Purple Onion.
I walk the next mile of the canal, take a left at a road, cross an interstate highway and find Anawan. The first thing I see is a gas station and my sweet tooth overwhelms me. I go in and scarf a package of Ho Ho's and pick up a Snickers bar for the road. I ask one of the locals there where I can find a restaurant called the Green Olive. She laughs and kindly informs me that the Purple Onion is down two blocks, take a right, two blocks.
I head that way, and find the post office. I go there and unload books, olive oil, Parmesan cheese, and unnecessary equipment. I send them back home. The lighter load makes me happy. The lady at the post office seems normal, so in passing I happen to mention that I'm going to the Purple Onion to eat. She gave me a weird look when I said that. She would not say anything bad about the place but I wondered what that look meant.
I stroll around the block to find the diner and see in the middle of downtown, a shabby section of white building with purple trim. Ugly, but interesting.
I felt like a baddie in an old western movie as I enter. I don't exactly look normal with this huge pack on my back with gear strapped everywhere. I walk through the door and judging from the looks I get I could have just slammed the door, pulled out a revolver and told everyone to hand over their cash and jewelry. Everyone stopped whatever they were doing and looked directly at me. A moment of complete motionless silence ensues. After my shock of the place wears off, I ask the waitress if I should seat myself. Life resumes normally.
I have never seen a more ramshackle restaurant. the chairs and tables looked like those that come out of a fifty year old house to be used in a rummage sale. I can see the kitchen from the "dining area" and it seems that the fridge came out of the same house. Thankfully, due to a half wall, I cannot see the cooking surfaces. I notice a dingy old house smell me as I sit, and I notice that our friendly police officer is having coffee with a group of gents old enough to be his grandfather.
The bacon double cheeseburger is okay and the fries are good. Once soft drink and a water later and I'm ready to go. The price was fair. The waitress was very good, so I tip her $5 and pay the bill. Over all, it was definitely an experience.
I do my laundry and charge my cell phone then head out of town to the trail.
Another day's walk, and I'm in the town of Geneseo. A town of 6000 that reminds me of Woodstock with nicer people. There is a real campground here so I am enjoying the shower immensely. I'm staying here for an extra night to try to heal my feet and aching body then I will move on. In a couple more days I will be at the Mississippi and then to Iowa. Unless I have some sort of epiphany that I want to spend my next few months in absolute boredom, I think I will probably make it a road trip to Denver, where I can do some real hiking.
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