Days 81-82 - 12/12/16-12/13/16 - Palm Springs to Joshua Tree National Park

Vin, Nelson and I aren’t the type of doods that you see around Palm Springs.  There’s some classy guys and dolls out there and we’re just a few hairball dirtbags.  They picked me up in front of the fancy hotel and we caused quite the scene breaking down my bicycle and loading it and all my bags into Nelson’s already cramped Saturn Vue.  No one could ride shotgun cause that’s where their 2-burner propane stove sits.  

I avoided the 35 mile bike ride into town and the 10 mile ride to the campground, all uphill.  That’s okay, I don’t feel like I cheated.  I hit 7,000 miles yesterday, I can take a car ride.  We stopped at the climbing store before the park, I quickly got a harness and a pair of shoes and before I could let all the breathtaking scenery sink into my eyes Vinny was already scaling a wall and I was soon to follow.  I didn’t know anything about rock climbing at this point.  I still kind of don’t.  All I know is I trust Vinny and Nelson.  I trust science, and I guess I trust the people manufacturing the gear we’re trusting our lives with.  Between my first climb and second climb on Tuesday, there was a point on each wall where I didn’t think I could go on, I felt too tired and didn’t know where I could put my hands and my feet to advance myself upwards.  But, with the motivation from friends, both above and below, I made it up my first 2 climbs.  

The very first, The Flake, the 3 of us made it to the very top, about 110 feet, just in time to watch the sun set, streaking the sky with pink and gold.  We rested in a little alcove, protected from the wind as the shroud of night fell over all the piles of rock and over all the funky Joshua Trees and we rolled and smoked a spliff by the light of our headlamps.  Now stoned, we rappelled over the side into the shadow of intersection rock.  

Once back on solid ground, the adrenaline began to fade and I had the realization I’m sure all rock climbers have after make it off the ground, this real intense metaphor for life: trusting in the people holding the rope, trusting the gear and trusting your own movements; taking it slow one move at a time but, also knowing no system is perfect, failure and death always seem close by but that’s no excuse to avoid danger, avoid the journey, avoid the rewards.  What is the reward?  I’m not so sure yet, besides the adrenaline rush and the beautiful views.  

Day 2, the 3 of us set out with another climber, Heather.  After everyones’ warmup and my major workout, we scrambled across the wilderness, through the perfectly manicured gardens of trees and cacti, and boulders, up and down piles of rock, laid out like a prehistoric playground onto the next climb.  A perfectly straight crack, very thin at the bottom that opens up a bit more at the top.  The journey to this climb was enough for me but, it was pure beauty watching Heather lead this one, figuring out the puzzle one limb at a time, finding ways to place gear and move herself up.  

There’s an amazing difference in leading a climb vs. following someone else.  Leading, you are going up to the unknown, carrying what you can around your waist, climbing and little, setting a piece, going further and hoping you set your gear right.  It’s beautiful watching people push themselves mentally and physically, coming down breathing heavily, excitement exuding, thankful to be on the ground but already looking forward to the next ascent.

Day 74 - 8/20/16 Lewis Lake Campground to Goose Lake, Yellowstone National Park

I don't always find time to write at the end of each day, some things take higher priority like, eating and sleeping.  So here I am in my tent, another chilly morning in Yellowstone on the edge of Goose Lake in what's considered the 'backcountry'.  A wrong turn brought me to this situation. 

I was aiming for a short ride along Yellowstone Lake to a campground over there but, I wasn't paying attention where the road split and ended up miles in the wrong direction before I realized.  So I ended up at Old Faithful, the biggest draw for tourism in this park; there was a whole complex of hotels and restaurants and gift shops just in this one area.  Yellowstone is probably the most visited national park and this is the hub of it all.  Get me out.  

But the closest campground was about 20 miles away, something I didn't want to attempt at 5:00pm when it would start to get real cold by the time I got there.  So, talking to the ranger at the nearest station trying to find out if there's any other options, I learn there is, and I also learn there's a forest fire going on up near the campground that's 20 miles away.  

He didn't seem too phased about it, he was trying pretty hard to convince his coworker to go out for drinks with him.  He said I shouldn't worry about the fire, 'the winds are blowing North and won't affect you,' said the ranger that looked like Jack Frost from one of those stop-motion Christmas movies from the 60's with his long white hair and soul patch beneath his lip.  Since I didn't want to ride the 20 miles, he told me of a backcountry site only 8 miles away.  

So he quickly filled out the permit for me, sent me on my way and went back to trying to get this girl to go out on a date, briefly mentioning I'd have to hang my food up to keep it away from bears.  So I headed off to flaming bear country and got here around 6:30, just in time to set up camp, eat, purift some water from the lake, dig some holes to shit in and hang my food before the temperature dropped too low.  

I couldn't be more thankful for making that wrong turn.  Everywhere I've gone in this park so far is filled with people, whether on the road or at the campsites or at any of the overlooks along the park, you just can't get away from people; except in the backcountry.  It's just me here, this whole lake to myself, all the colors and smells and sounds are just for me; the rich scent of pine mixed with the distant fire,

 

the rose quartz clouds slowly fading and the earth turning dark green and ochre, whatever birds making whatever kind of noises they make and the wolves out in the distance howling for the moon.  You don't get this in a campground with 80 something sites with water and electric hookups.  You don't get the sense that you're out in nature there.  

Not like this.  Before last night I felt like I didn't get to see a lot of Yellowstone; the view from the main road doesn't reveal all the spectacular views you want, I think you need to take to the trails for that, something I just didn't have the time or energy to do.  But camping on this lake all to myself gave me a great intimate viewing of the land so beautiful it became the first National Park.

Day 73 - 8/19/16 Grand Teton National Park to Yellowstone National Park

Getting to the campsite yesterday around 12, I was more than ready for lunch and so I scarfed down a can of refried beans mixed with a bag of ready rice.  It was everything I wanted until I got a terrible stomach cramp.  I must've eaten too fast.  So I smoked in my tent and tried to sleep it off.  I didn't really feel better 'til this morning but, that's okay because it rained off and on throughout the afternoon and into the night; not a bad day to laze around in the tent.  

It was cold when I went to bed and just as cold when I woke up at 5:30 and still as cold when I hit the road at 7:00.  Bundled up with pants, jacket, hat and full-length gloves, not the regular fingerless bike gloves, I was off to Yellowstone.  Passing by the Tetons again on the way out I was sad I couldn't soend more time near them, seeing their reflection in the blue mirror of Jackson Lake.  

In the early morning their peaks were covered by clouds, not yet awake; I thought about how good it feela to pull my sleeping bag over my head and snooze for another 30 minutes.  The ride into Yellowstone was through a green hallway of regal-looking pines, tall and thin but filled with emerald needles from top to bottom.  

It smelled like Christmas all around and I thought about work in the wintertime and all the joys the holidays bring; every big whiff made me forget where I was and what month I was in.  Finally, a break in the long green hall appeared and I could see into the canyon below, all the way to the dark river winding through the bright green grass and up from there, the slanted walls were precarious platforms for the pines, looking like a strong gust might cause them to fall so far down but, they held what little ground they had.  

Out on the horizon I was amazed to see the sea of green stretching further into high hills, up to mountain peaks that seemed so far above me; I've never had a view that saw so low and so high at the same time.  Again, I felt smal and terribly happy that I can be here, a tiny lens taking it all in.

Day 60 - 8/6/16 Badlands National Park - Day Off

I had some real ambitious plans for today – an early bike ride to watch the sun rise, a hike on some of the foot trails this afternoon, and then another sunset ride tonight.  But, upon laying my head down last night, I realized there is no need to wake up at 4:00am, I'll already be doing that on Sunday.  And there's no need to go out and watch the sunset again, I can do that from tonight's campground and then tomorrow as well.  

And as for the hike, well that's still up in the air I guess.  It's just about noon and this picnic table is just getting more comfortable by the minute.  A lot of folks left the campground this morning.  I'm sure most of them are heading to Sturgis for some biker weekend there.  

Motorcycles, not real bikes.  Now it's quiet, a little on the windy sode and I still have a nice virw of the great big rock walls.  Yes, there is nothing wrong with right here and that is something to be thankful for.

Day 59 - 8/5/16 Wanblee to Interior, SD - Badlands National Park

Yesterday being such a good ride, I didn't even think today could be better but, it was.  Another early and chilly start to the day was shared with all the dogs that just wander and bark around Wanblee.  There were 3 or 4 dogs keep us company at the park while Derek and I got ready, taking note of the visibility of our breath. 

 

It was barely 30 miles to Interior and just beyond the halfway point the road turned to the North, we climbed a hill and from there we could see the otherworldly rock formations of Badlands in the distance.  I couldn't help but laugh with excitement going down the hills heading into town, I've never seen anything like this before.  Experiencing things like this is food for the mind.  

To bear witness to new landscapes and terrain and even dangera adds so much to the reservoir of thoughts, emotions and memories inside your head.  Never having traveled much in my 26 years on this planet, a simple experience like visiting Badlands National Park makes me wonder what else will blow my mind out there.  

I left Derek in Interior and rode a couple more miles to the campground on the Eastern side of the park.  I couldn't wait to explore more so once my tent was set up, I took the bags off my bike, filled up my water and took Ginger into the park. 

 

Riding and walking among these towers of rock was like visiting the ancient ruins of a cathedral crafted by the delicate yet forceful hands of nature.  After riding around for a bit I decided it was time to go back to the site for some food.  

It wasn't long before I went back out on a different road to find a spot to watch the sunset.  Morning and evening are the 2 most beautiful times of day for the softer light changes the colors of everything and gives it a soft glow.  

There's too much beauty here, it's a little overwhelming, kind of like my visit to the museum in Chicago.  You can't see everything in one visit – kind of like life but, see what you can and let it change you.