South Dakota

I am doing Rapid City, SD a favor by mentioning it in this sentence. It will receive no further notice.


After a day's worth of driving, I elected to stay at a KOA campground because there were no hostels in the area and I certainly wasn't going to pay upwards of sixty dollars for a motel room. When arrived at the campgrounds I was surprised to see many features I don't associate with camping such a pool, volleyball nets, stores etc. It seems that the KOA corporation and I have very different definitions of the word camping. In any case, I set up my tent by headlamp light and promptly let the rolling cartoon Zs escape from my snoring mouth.

Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, Lincoln, and yours truly

Seeing as I had never been to Mount Rushmore, I had to include it on the road trip itinerary even though I had heard from many people that it consistently underwhelms even the lowest expectation. With that enthusiasm sitting in my pocket, Roy and I left the campground from for the nearby mountains. The Mt. Rushmore site was comprised of a large parking area and a long gallery featuring all the US state flags that lead up to the monument itself. Below, an unused amphitheater opened up more seating for the evening lighting ceremony. The ubiquitous obese American tourists filled the entire area and caused traffic jams every ten feet because they were taking yet another picture of themselves with the iconic piece of Americana. The entire experience reeked of unimaginative patriotic self congratulation. I got a shot of myself with the dead presidents and one of my NF frisbee as part of my roaming gnome project then swiftly made my exit.

A map of the wind cave that shows its
incredible complexity

Next, I traveled a half hour South to the wind cave to participate in some tourist exploration of merit. The wind cave is large network of interconnected underground caverns in the foothills of the Black Forest National Park. The cave was first discovered in the very late 1800s when two fur trappers found the cave's natural entrance and noticed a strange whooshing sound. One of the trappers bent over to inspect the opening and his hat was blown off by the wind escaping through the cave's entrance. The next day the trappers returned to show a couple of their friends, but that time, instead of blowing the trappers hat off, it sucked it right off his head when he bent down to inspect it. The natural cave entrance which incidentally measures approximately the same size as the brim of a cowboy hat, both expels and inspires air depending on the surround atmospheric pressure. The wind cave acts like a giant lung because the only interaction it has with the outside world occurs at the natural entrance, and it takes a long time for the internal pressure to equalize with the outer barometric pressure. The cave was never actually explored until the turn of the 20th century when a young sixteen-year-old boy, Alvin McDonald, managed to wriggle his body in the cave entrance and explored it using candlelight and a roll of string to find his way back. Amazingly enough, in his tragically short four years of exploration, Alvin managed to explore ten of the over one hundred and thirty eight miles of cave.

A good example of the wind cave's boxwork

In addition to a rich natural history, the wind cave also offered a spectacular spelunking opportunity with its ranger guided tour. Unlike most caves, the wind cave does not sport stalactites or stalagmites, but instead has a unique cave feature called boxwork. Boxwork is a naturally occurring rock formation the is comprised of a complex network of intersecting planes creating interesting three dimensional geometric shapes. The cave also displays popcorn and frost geological features that are not seen in most caves. It differs from most caves because most of its structure was formed while South Dakota and the cave itself was underwater millions of years ago. As usual the pictures will do a much better job of sharing the experience so I encourage you all to take a look here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/79525116@N03/sets/72157630201399828/

Wall Drug... Gross

After exploring the wind cave, I continued on I-90 towards Badlands National Park. As I drove down the interstate, I started seeing billboard after billboard announcing the approach of the world famous Wall Drug store in Wall, SD. Each one featured a different cartoon calling out to unwitting travelers trying to lure them to the monstrosity of Wall Drug, much like the Odysee's sirens. My aunt Nathalie had warned me of the gargantuan tourist trap that is Wall Drug, but again, it was just one of those things I had to do because I was on the road trip. Like I said earlier, Wall Drug was essentially an entire town that had converted itself to a massive, kitschy, tourist trap with store upon store of useless memorabilia and fast food. I snapped a couple of shots and moved on. Before I resumed my route, I stopped at the Wall gas station to fill up Roy's tank. As I swiped my card at the pump, I noticed that for some reason, the premium grade gas was cheaper than regular and I looked up at the stations signage to double check. Even the gas station was booby trapped to con the average person into paying more for regular gas making the assumption that most of them wouldn't look at the prices. Wall, SD I officially declare you a waste of American space.


A few hours of monotonously flat driving and I arrived at the entrance to Badlands National Park. Just as I pulled off the highway I noticed the beautiful South Dakota sunset and  awkwardly parked on the shoulder to capture the moment with my camera. As I sprawled myself across Roy to steady my camera for the pictures, I tuned into the beautiful symphony of wild birds and insects that had emerged at the dusk hour. I took a video so hopefully you can hear them too: http://www.flickr.com/photos/79525116@N03/7405036064/in/set-72157630201399828. With nightfall quickly approaching I drove to the nearest campground and set up my tent for the night. I finished just in time to stroll over to nearby outdoor theater where a native-american park ranger gave an hour long talk on the native Sioux tribes and their relationship to the Badlands (including their oral history and folklore concerning the area).


I was rudely awakened by the intense heat of the 7 AM sun radiating through my tent, turning it into convection oven. Reluctantly, I woke up and prepared a meager breakfast of instant oatmeal. Once I packed up camp, I drove to a ranger guided tour of one of the Badlands trails. The Badlands, originally named so by travelers who found it very difficult to pass through the areas craggy canyon and sandstone peaks. When I walked through the park's eroded rocks, I felt like I was in a land of oversized drip sand castles left by forgotten giants from the past. Unlike Yellowstone, the Badlands were much more interactive because you are allowed to stray off the trails and climb up the rock formations if you so choose. Enough of my ramblings. Enjoy the pictures.

Boulder, CO

The thirty minute drive from Denver, to Boulder seemed like a skip when compared to the other legs of my journey which had all lasted a minimum of 4 hours. While the change in scenery was minimal, the difference of Boulder's overall atmosphere was striking. The students from CU Boulder, who seem to predominate the majority of the city, bring a refreshingly active, artistic and engaging youthful air I had been missing since my college days at Wesleyan.

The F.O.B. with Fabio

Just because I love beer so very much, I ventured to the Avery Brewery, for another tour and beer sampling.  I arrived just in time to blend in with the crowd of 30 people in line for the tour without signing up in advance. Much smaller than any of the other breweries I had visited previously, Avery's entire operation was jam packed into a minuscule warehouse on the outskirts of Boulder. In fact, the main tour did not even show the bottling process because they would not have been able to fit all of the tour-goers into the room. Don't worry though, I managed to sweet talk the tour guide, a fellow beer enthusiast into giving me a private showing later. My favorite part of the bottling process was a piece of the bottling machinery called the F.O.B. for foam on beer. It uses highly pressurized water to agitate the beer, causing foam to rise up an over the top of the bottle pushing out any oxygen that might get trapped in otherwise. On the F.O.B. the brewers had jokingly put a picture of the actor Fabio, which I found quite humorous.

Part of our beer flight

Avery distinguishes itself from most other breweries because it brews more intense and exotic beers that often do no appeal to the average palate such as sour and high alcohol content beers. They even have a few brews that they age in wooden casks often used previously in the distillation of spirits. I was eager to try out their unique line of products, so I plopped down in the tap room after the tour to do some lingual investigation. While I sat contemplating the menu, unsure of what to try I overheard a group of three ladies sitting beside me at the bar deciding whether or not they were thirsty enough for the full beer flight which includes a taster glass of all of Avery's beers. I offered to join their flight so they wouldn't have to worry about not finishing. So together we went through all fifteen or so of Avery's delicious brews (including one that was a whopping 15% ABV) which was quite the treat.

For dinner that night I went to half past subs, a college hot-spot, that boasts a menu of over 50 different kinds of sandwiches. I ordered the green turkey which was a sub with turkey, sprouts, avocado, melted gouda, mayo, mustard, brie and apple slices. I also couldn't resist the temptation of their Big Lebowski themed dessert drink called the Duderino which was a vanilla shake with khalua and bailey's.

Later that evening I met up with two of my Wesleyan friends, Tim and Tess, who have been together since their sophomore year. Tim works as a geologist/ecologist and Tess works at an start-up that manages online surveys. I had originally been hesitant to contact them because we were only peripherally friends at Wesleyan, but they were more than happy to hear I was in town. We got together for beers and  any semblance of initial awkwardness immediately melted and it felt like we were back in Middletown, CT.

The next morning, before I hit the road for Rapid City, SD, I explored the Boulder farmer's market that Tess and Tim had recommended. I ate a delicious almond croissant, and bought a fresh baguette and cheese for the road. I could have spent hours and hours in the market, but the tug of the ten hour drive ahead to rapid city brought me back to Roy faster than I would have liked.

Denver, CO

Following the spontaneous spirit of this trip, I had not actually planned where I would be going in the state of Colorado. My friend Amy from Exeter was kind enough to open her house to me for a few nights so I headed from Moab to Denver to visit her.

My favorite Kirkland piece

My first touristic stop in Denver took me to the Kirkland museum of decorative and fine arts. Named after the painter Vance Kirkland it held a large portion of his collection as well an impressive collection of interior design pieces form the 1900s on. The majority of these pieces were chairs tables and clocks, but you could find the odd display of other household items such as the toasters throughout the decades exhibit. While these did prove mildly entertaining, what really tickled my fancy were the cosmic tableaux of Vance Kirkland. Each one depicted a different imaginary galaxy or nebula swirling with splashes of vibrant colors on a dark background, finished with pointillism dots. Perhaps more intriguing than the artwork itself is the story of its creation in the workshop. Because of his short five-foot-five stature and his desire that his works have no discernible sense of up, down, left, or right Kirkland would lay his canvases face down on a table then suspend himself above them with a series of ceiling mounted leather straps. This enabled him to float freely above the piece uninhibited by gravity or any conventional sense of artistry. He pioneered several artistic techniques such as mixing oil paints with water then splashing them across the canvas. He would subsequently soak up the excess water with paper towels leaving behind magnificent amoeba-like patterns. I'm sure that none of these descriptions made a shred of sense, so I'll let the actual paintings tie everything together.

The Great Divide tap room
You can also see their yeti logo above.

Appreciating art always makes me thirsty so I skipped over to one of my favorite breweries, Great Divide (GD), that just so happens to reside in Denver. With a few minutes before the beginning of the tour I plopped myself down at a bar stool in the taproom and sampled three of their local releases. Sadly, I don't remember the names of the beers, but I can tell you they were enjoyed with much gusto. In any case, the tour began shortly thereafter. I'll spare you the details as they were, for the majority, topical, but I will share two interesting tid bits. First, GD has been growing at only 33% per year (intentionally) because it wants to ensure that it maintains the high quality of the products that have given rise to the brewery's great success. While this may not immediately surprise you, I found it interesting because I first discovered GD in Connecticut over 5 years ago when they were but a wee baby brewery. Second, GD keeps six of it's large fermenting tanks outdoors. Brewing, particularly at a professional level requires an enormous degree of control and stability in terms of temperature. As you can imagine the Denver area weather can range from far below freezing in winter to the high 90s in summer. Like most breweries, GD uses double jacketed, glycol insulated fermenters which allow for precise temperature control, but this equipment can requires massive amounts of energy. I suggested they house the fermenters in a building with solar panels to recuperate some of the energy, but they didn't sound very interested. Oh well, they're the experts, not me. And it is at this time that I would like to thank all of you readers who continue to tolerate my high degree of beer nerdom. I promise there will be non beer related paragraphs as well.



Following my brew tour, I met up with Amy so that she could show me a bar/lounge, Linger's, that served street food from around the world a la carte. It rested on the rooftop of an old mortuary building that still displayed0 the original marquis. You can think of it as a global tapas bar. We had some delicious eats which I will share with you visually.

Jalapeno cheddar poppers

Duck bun

Carnitas tacos

From Linger's, we grabbed some ice cream, gossiped, and frequented another bar until we both felt exhausted at 9PM. Needless to say, we called it an early night.

Moab, UT

Let's get this out of the way early: Moab is incredibly hot. The thermometers were bulging at a whopping 94 degrees by the time I rolled into town at 6 PM and it never really cooled down until long after sunset. That being said, the burnt orange and red tones of Moab's sandstone created by far some of the most beautiful natural scenes to which I have ever been witness. It would seem that the government was much more interested in the large deposits of uranium that slumbered underneath Moab's sandstone because it destroyed quite a large section of the rock formations to gain access to the delicious yellow cake. The department of energy still has a large active operation with heavy machinery digging for treasure around the clock.

Can you find me?
It's pretty hard since I blend in so well with the background.

On my first morning, I slept in to recover from the previous late nights, but managed to be packed up and ready to hike by 10 AM. Wanting to fit in with the local scenerey, I wore my bright orange SF Giants jersey and maroon Exeter athletic shorts. I spoke with an employee at the Moab visitor's center who, in her glacial 20 words-per-minute cadence, managed to show me two trails that provided access to both  red rock arches, bridges ans canyons. She warned me to bring copious amounts of water because the heat could quickly wilt most travelers. Pffft I'm 23, I'll be fine.

The view from inside the hole/cave

A short drive later, I pressed up the trailhead for the corona arch. I immediately began pouring sweat, but thought nothing of it. On the trail, I met several groups of people all heading back towards their cars who wished me good luck. I even ran into a fellow Wesleyan grad for whom I had been an RA my sophomore year. Halfway up the trail, I saw a gigantic hole in the rock wall about 30 feet in diameter where it seemed some giant had decided to take an ice cream scoop out of the rock. For some uknown reason it called out to me, and I just had to climb up into it. The cave offered a great vantage point from which I could see the entire canyon landscape. I stopped in its shade for a quick hikers lunch. During my break I was lucky enough to see a goat-like desert deer skip across the rocks below.

Corona Arch

By the time I finished lunch, I noticed my water supply was already 3/4 gone. I guess old molasses lips at the visitor center was right. I continued my hike towards the arch, stopping every 60 feet to take pictures and finally laid down in its shade to escape the blazing sun. Two thousand shutter clicks later I swiftly returned to Roy and escaped back to my hostel for an afternoon siesta and some much needed hydration.

Repelling down the rock face

Once the landscape had cool down around six, I loaded up with extra water and hiked a trail called

(no joke) Negro Bill's Canyon. It ended in a sandstone cul-de-sac with a beautiful natural bridge. As I approached it, I made out the silhouette of a teenager repelling down the side of one of the massive rock walls. He turned out to be part of a group of professional guide led rock climbers tactically making their way through the greater Moab trails. The sun began to set and I scurried back to Roy before the darkness completely impeded my ability to follow the trail.

The deceptively difficulty EZ trail

At the hostel, one of my roommates told me about his day of mountain biking and informed me that I had to hit the trails before I left. Apparently Moab is one of the best places in all of the U.S. for mountain biking and the major mountain bike manufacturers often test their prototypes on it's rust colored dunes. At the local bike shop I finagled my way into a half day bike rental complete with helmet and car rack. I also stocked up on additional water because they warned me that heat and heavy activity of mountain biking dehydrated even the most accomplished bikers in no time at all. I started on the easiest trail per the bike shop staff's recommendation which turned out to be a flat path with the occasional rock. It took me to an advanced trail for which I brashly made a detour craving a more challenging adventure. The Circle O trail strategically zig zagged across slick rocks formations with sudden drops, steep inclines and aggressive turns. Now this was more like it! It proved to be a good foray into more advanced mountain biking because its open terrain forgave my wider, inexperienced turns. The bike shop had also recommended two trails called EZ and Lazy which I rode next. I found the trail names to be misnomers because the narrower single track curves led to my ejection from the bike three separate times. Luckily, each time I managed to continue running over the handlebars without falling to the ground. Good thing I bought insurance on the bike! Sweaty, battered and exhausted I limped back to Roy and returned my bike just before the 1PM deadline. It was too late to return to the hostel for a shower so I pressed on to Denver, my next destination, marinating in my own juices. Yum.

Yellowstone National Park, MT and WY

Double marshmallow Reese's smore. Mmmmmmm.

Ari and I caravaned from Missoula to Yellowstone in just under four and a half hours. We met at the Northern gate, which she explained was the same gate that the yellowstone wolves passed through after their historic reintroduction to the park in the 1990s. The cold and wet weather I had escaped by driving South from Glacier had caught up to us, so Ari and I stopped at the nearest campsite to set up our tent before the downpour began. By the time we had aquired our camping permits from the rangers, a small drizzle had already began to fall. We swiftly set up camp and started a fire determined to not let a little water ruin our fun. We ate a dinner of ravioli with pesto huddled next to the fire in our rain gear. Luckily the rain subsided by dessert time and we roasted marshmallows for smores. Girlscout Ari brought all kinds of chocolate so we were able to concoct many smores iterations. My favorite was the double marshmallow and Reese's smore.

Steaming hot springs

To our relief, the next morning brought sunshine to chase the clouds away.With the classic camper's breakfast of oatmeal in our bellies Ari and I set out to observe Yellowstone's natural splendor. We went to several sites, including painted pots, where we observed the four hydrothermal features: hot springs, mudpots, geysers and fumaroles. Because the ground underneath these areas can be very thin, boardwalks have been strategically constructed to allow tourists to venture closer to all these features without risking breaking the outer layer of crust and falling into boiling water. As I walked along the boardwalks, the unmistakable odor of sulfur, wafted in and out of my nostrils. This and other dissolved compounds in the hot springs water cause the colorful coatings that can be observed around the hot springs.

Old faithful

From painted pots we drove to old faithful and arrived just in time to run over to the boardwalk and watch him do his thing. After the performance, the entire site was mobbed with a flood of tourists so we continued elsewhere.

Our last stop took us to a site called prismatic hot springs which contained a special hot springs that displayed a literal rainbow of colors. You can see a picture of what it's supposed to look like here: http://somethink.files.wordpress.com/2011/01/grand-prismatic-spring-3.jpg

I was unable to see it's rainbow colors because the hot steam evaporating from its pool was being blown directly into my face, obscuring my view. The dense steamy fog did, however, create a enjoyably haunting atmosphere.

As we drove from Yellowstone to Jackson, WY (Ari's hometown), we were privy to several wildlife spottings including a distant grizzly and some nomadic elk.

Missoula, MT

Missoula, which did not originally appear on my itinerary, became the halfway point where Ari and I would meet to join forces. A last minute work commitment caused her to be unable to hop on the road-trip wagon in Seattle, but she wasn't going to give up that easily. I arrived in Missoula about mid day and settled into the local hostel where I met many interesting travelers. One gentleman, Tim, had moved West to Missoula from Sioux Falls, SD to find work as a firefighter. Another, Andrea, an Italian man who embodied the true definition of wanderlust had travel plans that easily put mine to shame. He was driving around the entire globe by motorcycle and had already passed through Europe, Africa, over to South America by boat and up to the US. You can check out his sleek and professional blog at www.stelvio2stelvio.it 

salmon burger!

Unfortunately, Ari never made it to Missoula that night because a nasty pothole gave her a flat tire, halting her progress in the middle of a powerful thunderstorm. She chose to spend the night safely in her car and get to a garage the next morning. Meanwhile in Missoula, I befriended Tim, the wayward firefighter, and we explored the Thursday Missoula nightlife together. The night was rather uneventful except for a few nuggets which I will share with you. In a bar that was hosting a trivia night, a young woman asked me for antonyms of the word humble. I offered proud and boastful to which she replied, "Oh really? I had come up with meek... aren't those the opposite of humble?" I guess they can't all be winners. In addition to certain people's low IQs, trivia night also taught me that Charlie Sheen's real name is Carlos Esteves. Weird.

Salad!

The next day I reunited with Ari, and we partook in a delicious sendoff brunch before we traveled to Yellowstone. I ordered a delectable combination of salmon burger, creamy tomato soup and garden salad. My description does it not justice so I'll post the pictures.

Glacier National Park, MT

The weather at Banff became less than ideal on day two with torrential rains that caused flooding in the small town of Lake Louise. Roy and I fled the angry Canadian clouds speeding down the winding roads of the transcanada highway 1.

Glacier's frosted peaks

As Glacier's picturesque brown, mauve and green mountains grew on the horizon, I observed a clear transition line about halfway up their slopes where a fresh frost blanketed their needles like powdered sugar on a brownie. Not long thereafter, I shivered in the frigid Glacier winds while I wet Roy's whistle with some exceptionally cheap unleaded at $3.73 per gallon. I had planned on camping while in the park, but with the recent drop in temperature, I was forced to check in to the only hostel in the area called Brownies.

Brownies' tilted main hallway

Brownies, a one-of-a-kind hostel/bakery combination, was by far one of the oddest places my travels had taken me. The second story, which held the hostel, seemed like it was going to fall apart at any minute. I'm guessing the construction workers didn't have a level when the erected the building because almost all of the walls protruded at different angles. In addition, the shoddy wooden construction left gaps in the seems joining every surface letting air and sound leak in. To compliment the poor craftsmanship, Brownies also sported an array of furniture that could only have been stolen from the set of That 70's Show. I couldn't complain because any four walls would have been better than my tent at protecting me from the snow flurry outside.

Nuff said

The next morning, I investigated the Brownies' bakery and ordered a glazed huckleberry bear claw - scrumptious! Roy and I rode into Glacier National Park where I purchased an annual pass, trail maps, and chatted with the park rangers who recommended a trip up to scenic point, the only non snow locked trail. A large red sign cautioned us that were entering "bear country" as we continued on to the trailhead.




Following the park ranger's suggestion I hiked the trail clapping every 15 feet alerting any bears in the area of my presence. Luckily the only wildlife I ran into were wind scarred trees, fluffy chipmunks and a pleasant group of mountain goats. Scenic point and its neighboring mountain peaks offered spectacular views which I tried my best to capture with my camera. I even managed to snap a self-timer shot from a vantage point on one of the mountain tops. I had to scramble across the rocks to get into the proper part of the frame before the shutter clicked. As you can tell my writing style is slipping into dribble, so I will let the pictures speak for themselves again. If you want to see all of my pictures from Glacier you can find them here:

The wind burnt trees

Frozen needles

Mountain Goats

Banff National Park, AB, Canada

The drive from Vancouver to Banff proved uneventful until the last two hours when I entered the park. I found myself torn between paying full attention to the road and groping for my camera to capture the beauty of the raw natural scenes as they whizzed past Roy. Fortunately, my occasional meanderings across the central divider were not met with oncoming traffic and I was able to capture some inspiring shots. As the weather began to turn treacherous, and the winding turns of Canada's highway 1 became less and less agreeable with Roy, I decided that I would land at Lake Louise instead of my original destination of Banff. When faced with the decision between a campground for thirty dollars and a hostel spot for forty dollars, I opted for modern day conveniences.

Instead of fumbling over my own speech to try and describe the awesome (and I use this word with its original form of awe inspiring) natural splendor of Banff, I will let my amateur pictures do the talking for me. Hopefully even their roughly framed beauty will inspire you all:

Vancouver, BC, Canada

I'm going to mix things up a little bit this time and start off with a Haiku:

Glistening windows,

Smiling faces all ways.

Tickle my fancy

See what I mean?

Downtown Vancouver opens up to its visitors with a panoply of modern buildings each competing with its neighbor to offer the city more shining glass reflecting the bright blue Canadian sky. While glass windows are abound, free parking is not, so I was forced to quickly check-in to the central hostel, drop off my bags and run back to the car before I got a ticket for parking on the street without feeding the meter (I had not yet withdrawn any Canadian moolah at that point). I drove to the suburbs and left Roy where he wouldn't be victimized by any nefarious meter fairies. The three mile walk back gave me plenty of great photo ops.

A shot of the marina from my waterfront stroll

I befriended an Irish chap, Mark, from Dublin in the hostel when I finally made it back and we found a BBQ joint recommended by my guidebook. Once we got the perfunctory small talk out of the way, Mark and I celebrated his heritage by going to the pub to drink. There we got a few pitchers of beer and rounded up some people to play drinking games. In total, we met two Vancouver locals, a German, two Aussies and a British ex-pat who enthusiastically cheersed the nearest person to her every few minutes to celebrate jubilee. What is jubilee you ask? I didn't know either until she explained that it was the queen of England's 60th anniversary at the throne. Cheers indeed. My new found gang of friends and I shared many more pitchers and danced our hearts out at a nearby club. As Borat would say, my first night was, "Great success!"

Day two began with more classic tourist sightseeing along the waterfront and gentle stroll through Stanley Park, Vancouver's massive public park that is comparable in size to the entire downtown itself. 

As you can see, the grind is
basically an endless series of stairs
carved into Grouse Mountain

The highlights of the day, however, came in the afternoon. I jogged the three miles back to Roy and zipped up to North Vancouver to take on the Grouse Grind also known as nature's stairmaster. The grind is a 1.8 mile trail that goes up near vertically for 2,800 feet - yeesh. The trail record holder completed the grind in just under 25 minutes. I figured since I was in shape it would probably take me about 2.5 times longer. I huffed and I puffed my way up the grind - stopping for the occasional photo op of course - all the while never being passed by a single person on the trail. At one point I had to stop just to take a picture of the snow on the trail that remained because of the elevation change. At the top, drenched in sweat, with my heart literally throbbing from the aerobic strain, I checked my watch to see my time, just over an hour and five minutes. That record holder must be a freak. The top of the grind offered fantastic views over all of Vancouver and luckily had a gondola that I could ride back to the bottom. Going down the grind looked like a great way to twist an ankle or break a bone.

In addition to the Grouse Grind, another staple of a legitimate Vancouver trip is all-you-can-eat sushi. Fun fact: Vancouver is second only to Japan for having the most sushi restaurants per capita. I planned to take full advantage of the literal meaning of all-you-can-eat so that day I only ate a PB and J sandwich for breakfast. The grind and the run to and from Roy also helped increase my appetite. Taking the advice of a fellow grinder I met on the gondola ride down to the base, I went to Tanpopo an authentic Japanese restaurant on Denman St. My previous record for pieces of sushi eaten in a single session was 46. I crushed it with following:

Miso soup (didn't count this towards the sushi tally)

4 deep fried gyoza

8 spicy tuna rolls

8 prawn tempura rolls

Sashimi (1 each):

sockeye salmon

atlantic salmon

tuna

beef tataki

red snapper

surf clam

8 beef teriyaki rolls

2 salmon sushi

4 crunch rolls

8 california rolls

6 oshiko maki (pickled yam rolls - they turned out to be rather sweet)

1 special scallop cone (the size of 4 regular rolls)

total sushi count = 55

I topped it all off with a dessert of banana fry, which I thought was Canadian for bananas foster, but turned out to be sauteed bananas deep friend in a phillo-dough wrap. All that for 15 dollars, not bad.

That's it for Vancouver. I must be off to go sing some karaoke and have a beer in Lake Louise (inside Banff National Park). Banff will be coming soon!

Seattle, WA

Sorry I haven't been more diligent about posting to the blog folks, but here is the long awaited down-low on Seattle.

Just a short three hour drive from Portland, Seattle stretched out in a long 15 mile strip bordered on either side by large bodies of water. To the East lied Washington lake and to the West was the iconic Puget Sound. For the entirety of my trip, the weather in Seattle was nothing to brag about with constant patchy cloud cover that released small misting "rains" like clockwork every four hours.

My former college roommate and friend extraordinaire, Ari, graciously shared her three-person apartment during my Seattle sojourn. I arrived on my first day just in time to join in her roommate's festivities. He threw a small party for his parent's last day in town before they returned home from visiting him. At the party, I spotted a fellow merrymaker who looked oddly familiar, but I couldn't place him in my memory. I had no option but to go over and solve the mystery. After asking him the usual, where he was from and where he worked, it hit me. He was Patrick Leslie, the environmental fellow from my time Exeter. He was my current age, 23, then while I was only a meager 13 years old. Fun fact: Patrick was actually the first person to hold the, at that time, newly created position of environmental fellow). Small world, right? The party was fun, but the eco friendly crowd meant that all of the food on the grill contained no meat. I had a couple of veggie dogs, and they turned out to be much better than I expected. The rest of the night consisted of Ari and I falling asleep while watching the movie Orange County. Guess we were both pretty tuckered out.

Pike's Market

Mmmm produce

Day two of Seattle began with an hour long walk from Ari's to downtown along highway 99 aka Aurora Dr. Why not just drive you ask... Because I wasn't about to pay for parking, and walking is good for you. Get over it. I eventually landed at Pike's Market, a large open air market with many permanently installed stores where different vendors sell any and everything edible. Think of it as your neighborhood farmer's market after a good can of Popeye's spinach. According to a plaque I read, Pike's market was originally created because Seattlites were tired of paying too much for their fresh food at the different supermarkets. Their solution was to cut out the middleman and bring all of the local edibles to a single location where all of Seattle could come and reap the benefits without breaking the bank. Touché, Seattle. After I explored the market I purchased a cup of coffee from the flagship Starbucks store. For some reason I thought it would be different than all the other Starbucks I had frequented in the past, but of course it wasn't. Somewhat disappointed, I moseyed down to the Puget Sound where I met Ari, and we checked out the Seattle aquarium. There, we met, among other things, some lazy jellyfish that float around a large plastic loop illuminated by assorted neon lights, playful sea otters, many brightly colored species of fish, and a surly octopus hiding in the corner of his tank. I went a little picture crazy with my new camera so if you want to see the rest of the aquarium pictures you can find them here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/79525116@N03/sets/72157630004201468/

Ms. Otter rolling around in the water

One of my favorite pictures. Mr Toucan!

Because I love animals so much I couldn't resist the call of the Seattle Zoo. Highlights included seeing a red panda (they look remarkably like a panda/fox hybrid), a beautiful snow white arctic fox, many many amazonian birds, and an ocelot who had managed to wedge himself in a tangle of branches for a snooze. Again I ended up getting trigger happy with the camera so see the above link for plenty of delicious animal pictures.



No trip to Seattle would be complete with the Space Needle. So, like the dutiful tourist I have become, I took the 41 second elevator trip - complete with a non-stop verbal slurry of Space Needle facts from the operator - to the observation deck. The top of the Space Needle offered fantastic 360 degree views of the entire city and wonderful people watching opportunities. Of equal note to the space needle was the Experience Music Project  (EMP) buidling. It resembled the Guggenheim in Bilbao, but offered a dazzling display of colors that seemed straight out of a Hunter Thompson acid trip thanks to its special paint coatings. I was warned by almost everyone in Seattle that actually going inside the EMP for the music exhibits is a waste of time so I mainly admired it from outside.

One of the walls of the EMP building

For some reason the blog does
not accept vertical pictures.
You get the idea though.

Before I could truly be satisfied with Seattle I had to investigate the flagship REI store. The store boasted over 3 stories of equipment, its own parking structure, and a massive indoor climbing wall. I purchased all the necessary overpriced camping gear for my upcoming National Parks session (Banff, Glacier and Yellowstone) and clocked out at $389.81. That was without buying a tent sleeping bag or backpack which I borrowed from my parents.Ouch... At the checkout stand I struck up a conversation with Rebecca, a cute brunette attending University of Washington who told me she was majoring in Geology and in the midst of preparing for finals. As I was carrying my loot back to the car, my "yes man" spirit grabbed me, and I quickly scribbled down my name and number on a scrap piece of paper. I scurried back up to the checkout stands, but alas, Rebecca was no longer there. As they say in France, "Tant pis". I'm sure Rebecca needed to study anyway.

I think that's it for this one ladies and gentlemen. It's 12:45 AM in Vancouver and I have a 10 hour drive ahead of me tomorrow. Goodnight beautiful world, I'll see you in the morning.