Ride to Raise Unawareness of Obesity

Captain Larry e-mailed a few day ago. He left a day before my passport arrived. Thank God. He is currently bobbing (and has been for a week) in the Gulf of Campeche. Broken boat. Count me out. Oppositely, Captain Ungar, a retried attorney from Santa Cruz is headed to the South Pacific later this year. Count me in. I suppose a terrestrial activity in the mean time will have to do. This is my Surly "Long Haul Trucker".
I told my my Mother I was heading home. See you in 40 days, I said. I'm riding to raise unawareness of obesity. My mother, great decipherer of BS replied: "You can just take a plane, no one cares if you do something momentous."

Hemingway does LA

Grumpy Unkie, now at the wheel, began complaining about Los Angeles traffic by the time we hit Needles, NV. The very moment we saw the downtown skyline the highway ended and we were trapped in a Range Rover/Mercedes-Benz parking lot. We pulled off onto Ventura Blvd. to look for a hotel. We found one and in doing so discovered the ghost of Ernest Hemingway.

I spotted it. Such a preposterous name. The Sportsmen’s Lodge Hotel. Opened in 1880. Every star who matters to me has stayed there. This includes Bobby Kennedy the night before he died. Nothing has changed since 1945. Sitting at the pool bar I sunk in to the mid-century world I fancy so much-- gleefully expatriated from the 21^st.

We took a tour of Bel Air. It being 4^th of July weekend the place was empty. Looking out over the valley it seemed like a thick San Francisco fog was rolling in. Oddly this fog was burnt sienna in color. Still, Los Angeles is beautiful and so many of the homes we saw were elegant. LA isn’t for me, but I can see how it would be a nice playground from the back of a Rolls.

I want to cholla something

Took the scenic route from Las Vegas to Los Angeles through Joshua Tree National Park. Pictured above is the cholla garden. These little cacti are also called jumping cactus because invariably one of the spikes will get you. It was around 5 o' clock so we had an impromptu happy hour there at the garden. Droves of European tourists pulled their midsize rentals in for a picture. They were all friendly, and assumed correctly that we were American. I'm sure they deduced this by our midsections or possibly my uncanny cowboy pose.

Lass Vegass

Let me first make one concession. After a night in Las Vegas I texted Jon wondering what he could possibly see in the place. Food and gambling was his answer. So yes, one can gamble in Vegas.

Gambling is a rather dull sport which I have mastered in my own way-- look as if you are gambling just enough to get free drinks. My elaborate ruse became unnecessary once I had endeared myself with the staff. I did so by openly mocking the clientele. My favorite was Captain Kirk. He, a Mormon preacher, explained that by rubbing the machines in a certain way one could share DNA with the computer. The logic was that “man invented computer, so computer can read man.” The caveat being one could only play blackjack. By playing this game you could move faster than the conniving, computer blackjack dealer. And he was right, I won $6.45!

The Captain’s story is a sad one. This man of God, who was visited by Jesus twice, has been asked by the Church to stop ministering. I don’t know why, but I think the Church may be wrong on this one… an anomaly of course.

I suppose I would liken the casino experience to a night club where the dress code allows fanny packs. But, maybe it is more akin to a money viewing gallery for pretty girls from Iowa. What ever Vegas is, it will forever be free from glowering Rob in the way of the elevated, air-conditioned sidewalks.

Stepping outside of the casino is to behold a vast landscape. Dotted every few inches is architecture I would call neo-Pulte. Owning a great debt to Rococo period architecture, the simple form of the Las Vegas suburban expanse is breathtaking; one should note the limited use of windows, craftsmanship, sidewalks, authenticity and material. I take solace remembering that the un-sustainability of this desert city is a fait accompli.
I was at least rewarded by a rare summer rain the day I left. The Hoover Dam was pretty.

Death Valley

Unkie and I got our supplies ready for the trip to Death Valley:
1 tube braunschweiger
1 box Carr's crackers
1 jug water
and... as we wandered through the Lone Pine IGA standing in front of the beer fridge we pondered our options. Miller High Life, St. Pauli Girl or maybe a summer ale. I jokingly (but not actually joking) suggested we grab some Mickey's Big Mouths. He and I now have an indelible bond.
2 40 oz. Mickey's
On the east coast water is so plentiful. The west is quite arid and the improbability of a city like LA is easily recognized. Leaving Lone Pine towards Death Valley one must cross Owens "Lake". Los Angeles diverted the water sources for this lake 4 hours to the south. It is now a shallow salt water area. Yet it would seem like a tropical paradise compared to our destination.

It's only an hour drive or so into Death Valley. One can actually feel the heat growing. Putting my hand out of the window there was an actual burning sensation-- the air is completely unforgiving and wind feels quite like a convection oven might. It was 118 degrees in the shade. At 3 o' clock, temperatures were reported at 122 degrees.

The best part about visiting the desert during the summer is the German tourist watching. They are everywhere. No English can be heard. At the Corkscrew bar in Furnace Creek one just had to close their eyes and be transported to Berlin. They all bought bottles of red wine and ate hot dogs. Wierdos. It was so hot, some even went sockless in their sandals-- most however did at least opt for white instead of black socks.

When I took this picture hundreds of cameras were snapping as I was mistaken for Cute Knut.

ECV

It has now been more that a month since leaving Atlanta-- although I’d count my time in San Fran as my old routine. Such is the reason I have left. One particularly dull and woozy night at Unkie’s place we hatched a plan to do a little exploring: Yosemite, Death Valley, Las Vegas, Joshua Tree and LA. It would take a week. The trip would end on the 4^th of July. A particularly fitting date as, in the most unsentimental of terms, one cannot imagine the natural wealth of this nation. This is what I have discovered.

We loaded up the “red wiener” (the Mercury) and left early in the morning. Across the vast strip malls and highway exits just a few hours from the coast lays the inspiration of Ansel Adams. Yosemite National Park is positively breathtaking. Irrespective of the ipod in my hand or the reception of my cell phone I could not help but think of the first people to cross this place. The awesome sight of both towering mountains and gushing streams must have been, and remains, sublime.

Around 10:30am we found the only bar in the park. There at the Ahwahnee Hotel Unkie talked about the Redwoods in California. “You know Rob the largest tree in the world is in California… and, here is the greatest testament of 19^th century thinking, it took them a year and a half to figure how to cut it down.” The second largest tree was removed of all its bark by Brits on scaffolding for reproduction in England and consequently it died. Finally, the third largest has a hole cut in it for cars to travel through. It too will die soon.

The first night we stayed in Lone Pine, CA. It’s an old western/mining town. Unkie insisted on staying there. That night at the Double LL bar he revealed why. We are honorary E Clampus Vitus members. I'm thinking of starting my own chapter. E-mail me about membership inquiries.