The Oregon Trail: Day 5

We woke up at 6:00 am the next day to 2 inches of snow all around us. That's not something you expect in the middle of June. Since I was shivering profusely, with not a chance in hell of getting back to sleep, we packed up our stuff and made our way to the closest warm building that was open. After warming up and charging the cold-drained batteries of our camera, we went for a nice early morning drive through the snow-covered park. I'd imagine this isn't a sight many visitors through Yellowstone get to see, so we felt pretty damn special.

Day 5. 607 mi. 10.5 hrs.

Most of the rest of the day was spent driving through Idaho. We had finally reached the Northwest! Idaho is an odd looking state from the highway. Much of the landscape is former volcanic plateaus that have cracked like gigantic pieces of asphalt. Interstate 84 (which we would take all the way to Portland), spends a good amount of it's stretch through Idaho following the snake river, which has carved a deep canyon through the southern end of the state. Along the river there a quite a few impressive waterfalls, some man-made (read: hydro-power) and some natural.

We stopped off for lunch in the sleepy town of Twin Falls. Twin Falls' claim to fame is that it is the location of Evil Kenival's unsucessful attempt to jump the Snake River Canyon on a motorcycle. This in turn inspired the classic Simpson's episode and, more recently, the Kanye video for "Touch the Sky".

Note the golf course below.

Since we had already eaten lunch, we skipped visiting the bustling metropolis of Boise, which I had already explored a few years earlier with Neil (travel tip: check out their strip clubs!). As we entered the high deserts of Oregon we were beginning to tire. I insisted that we drive the Columbia River Gorge during daylight, so we made it as far as we could that night and stopped off to sleep in the sketch-tastic town of Pedleton. The sweet sound of screaming street-people soothed us to sleep.

The Oregon Trail: Day 4

Day 4. 352 mi. 9 hrs.

We woke up appropriately hungover, said goodbye to T.J., and slowly dragged ourselves out of Casper. Our goal for the day was to reach Yellowstone National Park, and T.J. had suggested to us that we take an alternate, more scenic route through Jackson Hole.


The route definitely turned out to scenic. The road wound through canyons and up and down mountain passes. Unfortunately though, that is not the best conditions to be towing a U-haul trailer. At some points I was running in low gear at 30 mph up what must have been at least 10% grades.

We arrived at Cody, WY, the last real town on the way into Yellowstone, right after lunch time. There we took a break for lunch, but neglected to stop at the Wal-mart in town for camping supplies. This would prove very stupid later.

The drive into Yellowstone was beautiful as usual. Wildlife was everywhere. If you’ve ever been to Yellowstone, you know that it’s slow moving in the park, since tourists have to stop to take pictures of every Buffalo, Deer, Elk, Coyote, etc within one mile of the road. Us included.


At night, it began to get pretty cold in the park. Ewa and I scrambled to find sleeping bags for sale somewhere in the park, but were unsuccessful. So, we settled down at our campsite and huddled up under my comforter, wearing 3 sets of clothing.

The Oregon Trail: Day 3

We woke up in the morning to look out the windows and realize how flat of the state of Nebraska really is. Our destination for this day was Casper, Wyoming, where we were to meet up with T.J. On the way, we planned to make a few stops at some notable sights.

Day 3. 542 mi. 9 hrs.

The first stop on the way was Fort Kearney. This fort was built to help settlers on their way out to the new Oregon and California territories. Not much help to Ewa and me though, except for giving us a chance to dress up like idiots and wander around the park.

Yep, definitely idiots.

Not much further along the road, we came across Chimney Rock. I've been around the country by car four times now, and one landscape oddity is as good as the next usually. The Rock isn't much compared to almost any landscape feature in Southern Utah. It was cool, however, to see the same scene from the days of the Apple IIe.

Compare and contrast.

The rest of the drive through Wyoming was only remarkable for the fact that I was pulled over and somehow, for the first time in my life, managed to talk my way out of a ticket. (This skill would come in useful in Mexico a few months later, but that's a tale for another day). We arrived at T.J.'s place right around dinner time, so we went out for a fine steak feast, accompanied and followed by copious drinking. It was a Tuesday, so the bars weren’t very full. The only picture taken that night is about a blurry as my memory, and that was the beginning of the night.

Air Hockey, I wish I knew how to quit you!

The Oregon Trail: Day 2

The gateway to the West!

Another day began early, leaving Charleston around 9 a.m. The midwest is a rather boring place, miles and miles of farmers fields and cows. The one break in the monotony of the day came in the form of St. Louis. I don't know who reading this has been to St. Louis before, but from what I saw of the city, I can't recommend it. The downtown area is pretty bleak, and the suburbs went on for about as long as the Northern Virginia suburbs, with traffic just as bad. St. Louis ranks just above New Orleans (pre-hurricane) in my list of the shittiest cities in America.

"Mmmmm... you can find me in St. Louie!" Ummm... not me.

Well, we finally made it out of M-I-crooked letter-crooked letter-O-U-R-I and after a few miles in Iowa, we entered Nebraska. This is where the Oregon Trial part of our journey officially begins. A storm was on the horizon, and we planned to make it to Fort Kearney before noon the next day, so after driving as far as we felt physically possible, we finally retired for a good night's sleep in Grand Island, NE.

Day 2. 647 mi. 12 hrs.

The Oregon Trail: Day 1

In the summer of 2005, I set to move to the West Coast, to a part of the country I'd only seen once, and knew very little about. I'd gotten tired of Virginia and was itching for a change. The impulse didn't come so much from being dissatisfied with Northern Virginia, as from an innate wanderlust that I have had all my life. It is this wanderlust that I intend to document in this blog... well, that along with any stupid, impulsive trips I take with my friends, or any other interesting thoughts that come to mind.

Back to the matter at hand.

My worldly possesions in a 4'x4'x8' package.

With all my things packed in a rather small U-haul, and my adieu's bid, I set on my way with my wonderful girlfriend as my navigator and travelling companion.

We had an ambitious trip planned for our first day, as we figured our desire to drive would decrease daily. We would leave Arlington early in the morning, head North to Pennsylvania until we hit Interstate 70 and then start the long drive West, through Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, and finally ending our day in the podunk town of Charleston, Illinois, where Stupor was at the time completing his studies at Eastern Illinois University.

Day one. 754 mi. 14 hrs.

The first few states were unremarkable, as MD, PA and WV usually are, but as we entered OH, I recalled that Mr. Maggiore had relocated himself to Columbus, which we were fast approaching. After a quick phone call and a stop off at White Castle for some Sliders, we had located our jovial friend and stopped off to check his humble abode.

Bipartisanship.

Bellies full of bite-sized burgers, we hit the road again, determined to reach our goal before midnight. Driving at a rate of speed well above what the "Do Not Exceed 45 mph" warning sticker advised, we were able to traverse IN and reach Charleston by 11:30. There we were greeted by Stupor with cold beers and chili. Ewa quickly passed out. My brother and I, determined to make as much as we could of our brief time together, went on an ill-fated catfish fishing trip, until giving up at 3 a.m. to pass out ourselves.

Note: This was quite a bit calmer than my last trip to Charleston. My one night there, a Sunday during their Spring Break, I managed to get in a little tussle with a redneck local which resulted in the banning of my brother and three of his friends from their favorite haunt. Sorry guys.

I hate Illinois nazis!