P.S.

Here's one more road companion who hasn't been thanked yet: Dear old Carkey. He rolled across the continent without hesitation or complaint. And at the end, he barely smelled ripe at all.



travelled: 6,888 km

stuff removed in the Grand Cleanup of Carbage:

-1 bottle cold f/x, mostly gone, seemingly effective (no illness)
-parking chit from Heritage Marina Hotel, San Francisco
-receipt from La Loma Hotel on Route 66, Santa Rosa, where they promise wifi and don't deliver, but you can't complain for 41 dollars
-free pass to Acoma Sky City Pueblo museum
-camera permit for Acoma Sky City Pueblo, plus admission ticket
-fork (dirty)
-mini disc case (empty)
-complimentary Circus Circus, Las Vegas ballpoint pen
-"Don't Mess with Texas" sticker
-article ripped from NY times about surpise birthday party and May/September flirting
-tube generic lip balm
-phone card from Petrified Forest gift shop
-fragment of Reeses Pieces bag (peanut)
-ice scraper (retired)
-fragment of package of 'extra fine' chocolate
-bottle cap from Sierra Nevada Pale Ale
-photo of Sasha
-USA road atlas, rumpled, with one good rip
-GameTime programme for Hornets NBA game
-rental car offer from Circus Circus, Las Vegas
-New Mexico Pueblo Guide
-programme for Ansel Adams exhibit at Bellagio Fine Art Gallery, Las Vegas, and two tickets
-missing postcards for Texas and New Mexico (watch your mailboxes)
-the Oklahoma City 'Key' guide magazine
-official Missouri highway map
-Plaza Mall guide, Kansas City
-pamphlet for federal park pass
-map to Circus Circus Manor, Las Vegas
-map for Grand Canyon South Rim
-Arizona State Map
-map of Kansas City
-Illinois highway map
-official guide to Santa Rosa, NM
-Texas Travel Map
-1/2 jar Skippy natural peanut butter, 'no-stir' (!)
-missing power inverter for cigarette lighter
-1/3 jar beeswax boot weather proofer
-1 emergency sasquatch costume
-2/3 small bottle of arrowhead brand bottled water
-1/2 bottle spring water from the bottom of the Grand Canyon
-missing nalgene bottle, full of mystery water, possibly from Battle Creek
-Acoma Sky City Casino Very Important Player card for Colin C. MacKenzie
-disposable tupperware container with brownie crumbs
-'Explor St. Louis' magazine
-Kansas City restaurant guide, plus zoo directions card
-Grand Canyon activity guide
-bottle of pomegranate juice (empty)
-Lonely Planet USA, smeared with red mud of Oklahoma
-hiking boots caked with the red mud of the Grand Canyon
-2 AA batteries, still in package (score!)
-missing 1/2 bottle of cilantro and green chili salsa
-Strange Adventures coffee mug, insulated stainless steel coffee mug
-12 mix CDs
-missing CDs purchased in St. Louis - The Shins, Whining the Night Away; Strange Fruit Project, The Healing; Insides, Euphoria
-Jam: Jazz Ambassador Magazine
-package tops from beef jerky, Mission figs

The End

-30 with wind chill in Montreal????

Feb 18
CCM


and with our arrival in Davis, my work was here was done. Jack delivered to his sweet Meg and Mungo (as well as two cats).


We arrived at night and so it was not until the next morning that I was able to see how grand and spectacular Davis really was.(Meg lives in a section of town were all the street names are from The Lord of The Rings, making Jack triple happy since when we were down in the Grand Canyon he kept muttering "Lord of the fucking Rings...". Unfortunately someone was getting all evil the night we arrived and TPed some poor Hobbit's house). Mostly the place is all flowering cactus, orange trees, lemon trees,orchards of almond trees as well as all kinds of other nuts, dog parks and once again warm weather.


Small University town and home to one of the best vet programs in the US, where Dr. Jones has an office(this is really why I made the trip, just to see that sign- damn we are proud of her).

Unfortunately I did not have time to take the 30 min. drive to (Sideways)Sonoma from Davis and taste some of North America's best wines, instead I settled for a great mimosa at a great breakfast spot, did a little drive-a-bout and then jumped a United jet out of Sacramento to Montreal via Chicago(where I got stuck for 4 hours, lucky for the blog, and got home at 4:30am). Woke up the next morning to -30 but the sun made it a blazing gorgeous day.

and then off to Davis, CA

Feb 17
CCM

San Francisco was without a doubt worth the insane drive the night before. Once again Jack and my inability to sleep came in very handy. We were up at the crack of 7 or 8. Before we left the Hotel to check out and stroll around San Fran I sent off an e mail to an old friend, Miro, who I had not seen in two years. He had moved to SF 5 years ago and was making attempts to live the dream. Miro is one of the foodiest people I know and there was rumor he had opened or co opened a restaurant. I, for the past few months, had sent threatening e mails of needing a dish washing job in California- pronto. My last visit had included a walk to the Framers market thanks to Miro. I told Jack we had to go, it had blown my mind. Half peaches wrapped in pancetta ham and then tossed on the BBQ, tomatoes not only purple but striped like zebras…
This time it was caviar, mushrooms, dried dates I had never heard of and Boudin bakery with bread made with original sour dough culture from 150 years ago, they also used a weird tramway system to get bread from bakery to shop counter- the coffee was ok, but the sourdough cheese and jalapeño role was great.


As Jack and I were eating lunch at a spot called the Stinking Rose, we had ordered pints and Bagna Calda (roasted garlic, olive oil & anchovies in a frying pan with bread)—an Italian dish introduced to me at Jerry Granelli’s annual Birthday celebrations in Halifax, his source of stamina quickly became clear, my phone rang. Miro had just gotten up after a late night celebration.
“where are you?” I explained, he laughed and suggested we meet him and just hang out, perhaps stare out at the ocean some place and catch up.

Miro had been involved in the opening of a restaurant, but it had since closed and his all-star chef and he had instead gone into consulting. Miro was a main man in the good old days of the heady 90s Halifax Music scene and was a former Cinnamon Toast Records partner/art director. His love of music has not dimmed, he is now helping to run another lable: Pressing-Issues featuring Dubstep music. We met up and he quickly took over the driver seat and began winding us through his San Francisco; beaches, parks, hills, restaurants, shops and history. We only had two or three hours but like a French goose we got our fill.

With threats of you gotta come back for more than 24 hours you M@#$F$%*#er, we said good bye to Mr Miro and off we drove to our final destination: Meg Jones and Davis, California. Our trip would be over in less than two hours unless we hit traffic, and we did.

San Fantastic

San Francisco
Feb. 17, 2006 - 5S1L



Instead of the legendary rain and fog, San Fran delivered up the finest of spring days. Colin started to check the weather in Montreal, and it only made the sun shine hotter.

San Francisco is a city of visionaries. When other cities decommissioned their old streetcars, SF snapped them up and put them on a tourist route downtown. Here’s one from Cincinnati, I believe, a cousin to the old Red Rockets I used to ride as a kid in Toronto.



We wandered all over downtown, savouring the light and heat. San Francisco has the classiest farmers’ market ever, featuring heritage beans and organic oranges that taste like a whole new kind of fruit.

There’s also crazy public art: This fountain is by a Canadian artist named Vaillancourt. Vintage 1972 ugly. But I think it carries an important message about water pollution (?). It is also a liability nightmare, full of opportunities for bonebreak falls and child drowning. That’s what won me over... A full-participation danger fountain. It’s also flaking and rusting away. Who knows if city council will fork out the bucks to repair it, or just replace it with some message-free child-safe water park.





I’m excited to get to know this town better in the coming months. And I think I’ve met the Willy Wonka of the whole operation – Colin will fill you in on our fantastic driving tour of SF courtesy of Miro Wiesner. The best of everything, from dim sum to vintage vinyl now laid out at our feet. As the Governator used to say, ‘I’ll be back.’

Flush with a heavy $55 we drive...and drive...and drive

Feb 16
CCM


After Vegas Jack insisted that we drive like maniacs so as to wake up in San Francisco. I now looked at him as if three heads had sprung up 'round his shoulders, we were looking at a 7-8 hour drive. A lot of it was some beautiful country and some, not so beautiful.We got gas some place in the desert and there was no Davie Crocket romance there, but I think if we had wanted some Meth- no problem. We then got lost once again and found ourselves on the wrong side of the tracks as the "highway" turned to dirt road. Just before we get lost we pulled off the highway and find a little desert town called Baker, we get gas and I buy Jack a tough ass hat to celebrate his big win. Down the road like a mirage a greek restaurant, with a drive through. We order what amounts to two Donairs to add to a sixer Jack got at the gas station- so much for veggie after the cali border.


The desert vistas were fantastic and for this Northern Quebec born boy, to see so much desert, Joshua trees and beautiful desolation was thrilling. It was just this landscape that I have so wanted to see my whole life: too many matinee movies and cheesy 70's television shows.


We did it, again thanks to Jack's insistence, a very long drive, probably on a slightly longer highway(due to slow motion navigating once again on my part- too much to see). We arrived at the hotel at midnight. But what a great room.
In the Hotel: I passed out fully clothed on one of two massive king size beds, each with a TV by its side. Jack, still wired, watched TV some show on PBS about the start of the world. I should never have bought him those Energy pills at that gas station.

As for that pic, well Jack has developed a great FauxHawk look on this trip that will def-o suite his California hustle, perhaps he & Beckham can trade tips. Vic and Meg can shop together.

Big risks, big rewards

Las Vegas
Feb. 16, 2007 – 5S1L

Colin comes good on his promise of Vegas spectacle. There are crepes and coffee in the casino known as Paris... a mall done up to look like a Disney version of a French street. It’s truly bizarre – Our cashier at the creperie has an authentic Parisian accent. And the domed ceiling of the coffee shop is covered in 20-thousand dollars of faux 1880s subway tiles. But even with the half-size Eiffel tower and the Montgolfier balloon, a mall is just a mall.



Bellagio, the ‘Venice’ of casinos is a classier joint, with blown-glass lobby art and a gallery show featuring 40-odd prints by Ansel Adams. Adams is an old favourite of Colin MacKenzie, and CMac's training in photography lets him give the coolest explanations on composition and technique. Also, Adams’ anecdotes of taking his most famous photographs (happy accident, hectic execution) make me realize our blog is high art, except noone will pay $12 to see it in 60 years.

Following a different type of inspiration, I load 4-dollars into the Bellagio's nickel slots, and watch it disappear as fast as I can press the ‘max credits’ button. I quietly swear at the machine, trying to make it feel quilty. Then, a row of gaudy medallions appears on the win line. The machine starts chiming like a car alarm. And it just won’t stop. Credits pile up like grain pouring out of a silo. My face grows hot, I feel both embarrassed and exhilarated, Colin grabs his cameraphone, but before he can Ansel Adams me, I hit the ‘cash out’ button and run the chit to the nearest wicket. $55 Sweet Vegas! I manage to spend it all before I hit the street: I never knew coffee and OJ could cost 18 US dollars. Of course, cost = GRATIS in this case. Two celebratory cigars comprise the balance of our Vegas winnings.
So long, Sin City.

Vegas over Easy

Feb 16

CCM


Jack is a mad man, under his diplomatic sheen, he is a ball buster.
We check into our Circus Circus room and we smell smoke right off. Jack is on the phone with vengeance, he knows he is just about to have fun,
“Hello, yes we wanted a non smoking room, this one smells like smoke” (this said with an “ I am about to explode” tone to it.)
At this point I was so tired that I was in mid tumble onto the bed.
We get moved that very moment to the room next door. Jack charges out to the stairwell in search of a security person to let us in, he jigs one in and verbally drags him to our room.

Once I got back from my second outing at Circus Circus, having realized that this was the same Hotel that Hunter S (RIP) was staying in when he went Fear and Loathing, I had to look around. I was now wired, over tired and had to work it off with buzzing noise, flashing lights big crowds and stale air. The casino was low rent family entertainment, some sort of twisted Disney alternative. Since kids can not gamble the Circus Circus folks just set up a a whole slew of sanitized Carney stands: toss a ball at the stuffed cat, squirt water and race the horses, darts, basket ball toss.. everything you remember wanting to do in a cotton candy haze as a child was there for a price—gambeling for kids, perfect training. And in the middle of it all- an actual Circus big top with free performances from 11am to Midnight. The patrons, mostly over 60. The acts were 4th rate and there was some fun in watching that go down.

Circus Circus is less than $100 a night and you are on the Vegas strip- thrill #1
Thrill #2- its called Circus Circus and you do not notice that there are probably 2000 rooms in the place until the sparkle of the big top entrance begins to fade.
So in tune with low rent family vacations are Circus Circus that they actually have an RV lot too- right on the Vegas strip, it is crazy. The giant parking lot with hook-ups sat not too far from our out of the way quarters. As I walked away from our compound I passed a mid 50s couple, the woman was cranking it up to the man,

“ I really thought we would be staying in the main Hotel building, this is not what I was expecting”

The man, a safe 7 feet ahead of her, said nothing.


Since Vegas at Night did not happen but Jack and my schedual included rising at 7 am most mornings we decided to take on what Vegas we could at breakfast hour and beyond.

First stop—PARIS. A casino based on all things Paris (I wonder how they did during the freedom Fries fiasco). The place was huge with their massive vaulted ceilings all painted with a Rococo blue sky and clouds motif. There was no way of ever knowing time of day or even day or night.

Little promenades decorated like Paris streets, lined with restaurants, shops and souvenirs fed in and out of the casino proper. The Producers was being performed nightly in their theatre, staring David Hasselhoff—somehow it made sense.

The highlight of the morning was not the Crepe but a trip to Bellagio, an Italian themed casino on the other side of the street that had an art gallery featuring the work of Ansel Adams. As he is one of the most well known photographers around and I did a photo degree at University I was a bit Poo poo about the oportunity, seen it done it, kinda attitude. Silly me. Jack pressed hard and we tossed in out $15(that was the other deterent) a piece. What can I say, fantastic, and after having just been down the Grand Canyon the show offered up perfect sense and a machine gun fire of inspiration. What did I learn, easy? : know your stuff so that when you really need it you are ready to take full advantage of the opportunity even if it is by the seat of your pants. Jack and I walked out with smiles all'round.

What happend next, Jack can be the only one to relay.

On the road again

Towards Las Vegas
Feb 15, 2007 - 5S1L

West of Flagstaff (or Flag as I now call it, just like the locals) we take the longest stretch of Route 66 still in existence. It pulls us far the north of I-40, nearer the rim of the Grand Canyon. You can never see the drop, but you can sense it over the horizon.

Dessert in the desert at the Roadkill Cafe:



Colin realizes Las Vegas is within easy reach, if we drive like demons into the night.
My camera decides it’s had enough of adventure, and gives up on autofocus.



There are semi-permanent police roadblocks on either side of the Hoover Dam. But they only check trucks and camper vans. Maybe they’re looking for big loads of explosives?
The dam at night is eerie.



Las Vegas bursts out of the desert, wider and brighter than I ever imagined. But I’m too tired to take advantage. Instead, I collapse in my Circus Circus bed, while Colin goes out to explore.

Up and Out of Phantom Ranch

5S1L
Feb 15, 2007
The reward for reaching the bottom of the Grand Canyon is a sprung bunk to rest your bones on.
And the best bunkhouse stew I’ve ever tasted.



Phantom Ranch on Bright Angel Creek is like a memory of the Garden of Eden. A couple of wild turkeys have decided to roost here, and they come up and greet you like old friends. The ground is richer too, and there are cottonwood trees towering over the general greenery on all sides.
Night falls like a lead blanket. The stars shine colder and brighter than anywhere else. There are constellations I’ve never seen, strange details within the constellations I know.
But the camera can only pick up Colin writing with the headlamp.



The next morning, I roust us out unexplainably early.
We walk along the Colorado as the sun rises over the rim of the canyon.





Climbing out is a 6 1/2 hour slog of exhaustion, especially for me. Colin's marathon training shows, but mercifully he calls many rest stops to drink water and explore.



When we make it out, I can barely stumble back to the car. Luckily, Colin takes the wheel as we speed back to 66, and West.

UP?????

Feb 15
Happy Birthday Ori!!!


The Next morning someone stuck their head into our cabin at 5 am, I figured I would wait for everyone to go to breakfast, Jack and I had brought our own since breakfast was $17. Jack was up like a flash, “Colin, Colin, you wanna get going?” I looked over to see what is fantastic about Jack Julian- utter enthusiasm, like it was Christmas morning. He was so excited he was radiating a glow. And so at 5:15 AM up we got; showered, dressed, ordered a coffee (only $1- probably the cheapest and greatest coffee of the trip), we made some breakfast, peanut butter and cheese sandwiches with a side of dried figs, and headed into the dark.

“Jack where is your flash light”

“oh its in my bag, lets just see how it goes”

… three steps later we were emersed and could not even see our own noses. Out came the headlight.


It slowly became light as we made it over the other bridge. (Jack has some great pics).



This morning my calves were killing me and my back was really sore but the first part of the Bright Angel trail was mellow, felt like we were in some gold rush movie, just a big valley inside this massive canyon. We had been told that this trail was not as impressive and Kaibab, but no, no,no- it was spectacular in its own way. Not least of which was our stumbling onto some unflappable wild life.



So....This hike was a killer. Down was hard on the body but the hike up was a full on workout lungs gasping, 6 1/2 hours to the summit. As we got closer to the top there were frequent stops and rounds of water.

We brushed past sightseers to step into the surface sunshine at 1:30pm. We could hardly walk, our calves and thighs were screaming with every step—where was the Advil? Jack fell asleep on the bus ride back to the car and I desperately made attempts to massage my legs.

We were going to get in the car, find a Hotel and just chill until the next day. Recoup. That was the plan until we got in the car, started driving and must have gone slightly mad.

Instead we drove to Vegas arriving at 9PM


We could hardly step out of the car, legs like jello. There were 150 people in line to check into Circus Circus( oh, the NBA All Star Game is in town), we got rooms in some paper thin walled room 100 miles from the main hotel.
Jack said
“lets just sleep until 10 and then hit Vegas…hard!”

Jack never got up.

Canyon

FEB 14

CCM


The night at Hotel Monte Vista was a good one, all the ghosts of all the stars paraded ‘round my dreams. Actually I think I was in a car driving down some endless highway throughout my sleep.
When the idea of actually doing a major hike in the Grand Canyon came up. Jack went into hiker mode which meant safety mode. Jack had insisted that I not only have rain gear but that we should also buy crampons for the big hike. I had my sneakers with me for running/jogging and had heard tell that sneakers were the way to go with hikes, if the weight of your pack was such that you needed ankle support then your pack was too heavy. I have been traveling with my Blunstones this trip, a pair of boots that for about a year have been wrecking havoc on my heels, tearing giant holes where there should be none. But in the past month they seem to have settled down. I told Jack that my sneakers would be fine, and I had a slim wind breaker with me that I could use, and if it rained, I would just dry off. Jack looked at me as if a second and third head had suddenly grown from my neck. A look that also looked a lot like “ are you insane?”. As the moment of truth arrived the next morning and we were packing up for our drive to the canyon Jack became insistent, apologizing for his thoroughness but still “ better safe than sorry”. The Lonely Planet Guide too had said that the Grand Canyon hike was not easy and many had died in naïve macho attempts. I needed a new rain jacket anyway.. right? As Jack packed up his sleeping bag, flares, hiking boots mole-skin, rain pants and first aid kit I slipped out of the room and downstairs to the one of three hiking stores by our Hotel (this University town feels like some modern day Gold Rush meets MEC town.) I found three jackets and picked up the best one- $100 for a North Face jacket that will probably be around after the cockroaches go extinct. As I was paying and telling the clerk about our impending Canyon hike he immediately asked about crampons, “yea they pretty much insist on them this time of year…” I bought two pairs as well as some sun screen and for Jack a pair of hiking socks, it was Valentines Day and he was stuck with an amateur, doubtful hiking partner rather than his sweet Meg Jones and I owed him for kicking my safety ass. (There had also been talk of us making it to Davis in time for a V day reunion of Jack & Meg but the road was long, Meg got swamped with dead animals and the Canyon’s call was loud. Jack had also years before narrowly missed a Grand Canyon Hike due to back troubles- we HAD to go.) The night before our hike Flagstaff had been dumped on, 4-5 inches of snow and there was forecast of even more snow and rain at the Canyon. Ahhhh yes now the rain gear made sense.

As we drove North the sun bust out and the snow covered Ponderosa Pine began to shake off their snow as we drove by. When we arrived at Bright Angel Lodge to check in the woman at the desk was shocked that we were planning to start our hike so late in the day- Noon. She said that we must be experienced hikers and must have done this before (no, never) and then asked if we had crampons (thanks Jack). Jack and I looked at each other just a little worried at this point. Jack was looking especially stressed. There was no time to loose, we had to hit the trail NOW, if we wanted to get to the bottom on the Canyon by nightfall and in time for our infamous $22 stew dinner. The hike down was to be on the Kaibab Trail, a difficult and steep descent that was 20-30 minutes drive from the registration desk. As Jack drove like a mad man, I squirmed around - pulled off my jeans and put on my long-johns then back on with the jeans. Jack had an extra day pack which I stuffed with the food we had bought for lunch and breakfast and lunch as well as 3 litres of water, one short of what was suggested for our trek. Jack had everything else in his pack plus his 3 litres. We made way to the icy edge, slapped on our crampons and took our first steps into the Canyon.


It was like a vacuum. What we had just stepped down from was suddenly replaced by another world. The earth opened up below us—an expanse like nothing I have ever seen. Cliffs and rock formations in purples, reds, browns and whites Clouds and sky meeting this wide opening down.
The trail was well groomed and fears of having to jam our hands into crevices for balance around heart stopping crevices disappeared. These were used not only by hikers but Mules hauling supplies and tourists to and from the bottom. Our destination today was Ghost Trail Lodge, a hand full of cabins and bunk houses that have serviced hikers since the late 1800s.

Only 20 minutes into our hike we began to notice excessively large birds flying amongst the crows. They looked like vultures and that was what we assumed they were, though each had a huge number attached to their wing and one a big transmitter, until we got to the bottom and were informed that no, these were California Condors who have the largest wing span of any bird and are possibly one of the most indangered birds on the planet- lucky Jack got some pics. This hike would take us down some 1400 ever changing meters to the Colorado river below. The snow quickly turned to sloppy mud and then began to dry up as small cactus began to appear around us. Every so often a train of 4-5 mules would cross our path, we would move off the path to make room. I can not believe that the only way to get things in and out of the Canyon remains the Mule( with the exception of Helicopters for emergencies, though even a broken ankle is dealt with by hauling the victim out on a stretcher loaded Mule.)

The desent was tough, on thighs, knees, ankles and feet, we both quickly broke into a sweat that did not quit until our day was done. Every time we stopped and looked around in awe shaking our heads, the scenery took our breath away, we were smiling unable to believe we were even here. The concept of time and age became ambiguous as we looked at the result of millions of years of activity. Subtle erosion that resulted in, not even, meters of change in a hundred years. Nothing here just happened.


The trail seemed to come to an end at a suspension bridge that spanned the Colorado. A brown, fast winding river that we both just wanted to jump into, aching, hot and exhausted 4 1/2 hours after we had begun. We found out the bridge was built in the 1960s. The trail continued after the bridge. After we touched the water we made our way to the lodge. Found our bunk house and collapsed. Dinner was in 1 hour, so we rested and then went to look around, Mules, Wild Turkeys, Mule Deer, a rushing brook and sooo much quiet.


The $22 stew- it was really good. After dinner Jack and I grabbed a couple more cigars (thanks Spike) and headed out to a bench. Along with Jack’s Scurbim (ask Jack), we smoked, relaxed and looked up to see one of the most spectacular display of stars I have ever seen in my life.
oh yea, wake up call was at 5 am and we were taking a trail the next day folks told us took 6-8 hours to hike up.