Location: Des Moines, IA

 

Car Mileage: 235,542

 

Trip Mileage: 25,251

 

The Big Ten hasn’t been ten teams for quite some time, but it is still midwestern at its heart. So as I drove through Seattle over a month ago, home of the newest Big Ten team Washington, I felt my Ohio license plate still had some gravitas. Fastforward to mid-August and I am undoubtedly in the heart of Big Ten country. Nobody in Minnesota or Iowa is giving a second thought to my Buckeye State plate.

Two feelings at once: I’m home and It’s over. No, Iowa isn’t exactly home, but the road ahead is short and familiar. The road behind me is extensive and littered with the memories that I planned out the last 18 months.

If my trip was likened to the advent season, then it is now Christmas evening. Sure, it is still Christmas, but it’s hard not to think about Dec 26^th, family leaving, and the whole year ahead before advent begins again. To string out the holiday as long as possible, I usually wake up the next day and greet my dad with a “Merry Christmas” to celebrate the Twelve Days of Christmas. Similarly, I’ll likely stretch this trip to Maine, North Carolina, or Florida, but I’m not fooling myself out of missing the farewell of the journey so far.

While I last left this blog on the sandy banks of Great Sand Dunes National Park, I omitted one of my most unique sleeping situations to date. I was sleeping in the parking lot of a Bass Pro Shop and instead of being woken up by the sun cooking me, I heard the voices of a gaggle of old men. My first thought was that it might be a motorcycle group, a common find when on the road. When I peeked out of my window I saw a really nice car. I looked out another window and saw a literal lot full of cars. I was parked in the middle of a classic car display that had not been there 8 hours ago.

If ever there was a use for the power of invisibility it would have been now. Instead, I had to slither my body from the back of my car while briefly becoming the most interesting display in my section of the parking lot. I didn’t say a word to any of my spectators (usually a quip would be at hand), but I couldn’t help but to laugh out loud.

I assume they all thought the cackling, unshaven hobo living in his car was probably cracked out. I took a picture and video as proof and got out of there as discreetly as possible. I received zero offers on the Civic which is only one Olympics away from being eligible for classic status.

As I continue to explore and scratch off more of the US map, I have now uncovered the entirety of Colorado, along with North and South Dakota.

Back in western Colorado I had some national parks to attend to. Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park was next. This is probably the least essential Colorado park, but this also meant low crowds.

Despite being ranked lower on my list, I’d like to return someday to actually hike down into the canyon which is the deepest/narrowest/steepest canyon in the USA. Don’t ask me how that metric is created as this is not the deepest, narrowest, or steepest canyon. I guess when you combine them all…? Eh, I’m just quoting the sign at the visitor’s center.

Mesa Verde National Park might actually be the most essential park in Colorado, even over the more frequented Rocky Mountain National Park. I tend to think of Europe as architecturally superior because they have castles from the 1400s, and while certainly there’s not a chateau with a hedge maze in CO, there are structures from 800 and 1200 AD that are shockingly well preserved.

The homes in this park were built into the side of cliffs that tourists can now climb down to explore. I’m not sure there is anything else quite like it in the States. It’s something you might consider existing in Mexico or Brazil around those ancient kingdoms.

Mesa Verde is almost as south west as you can go in Colorado, and if I had thought of it in time then I would have paid a visit to the four corners monument, but alas. I did detour back into Utah, to Moab, to get a second taste of a donut I had back in April. That last second decision to drive two hours for a donut is probably the epitome of what makes this trip special. Maybe beyond this trip, it’s what makes being a 27-year-old with nothing but time and a serviceable metabolism so special. Next time I have good insurance I’ll be sure to get tested for diabetes.

Pinch your nose, because the following day in Grand Junction, at Planet Fitness I had my first shower in a week. This is the furthest thing from a flex, as this admission probably just made me irredeemable to a couple romantic prospects. It’s my truth though. And my blog. This was perhaps my most important shower, because in the time since my last one I had been brutally attacked by the sand at Great Sand Dunes NP. This was a time for celebration.

I wish the shower had been my biggest event, but later that night when I was preparing to sleep in a highway rest stop my urge to be a Good Samaritan kicked in. There was a couple who had been working on their car for a couple hours while I turned a blind eye and watched a movie in the comfort of my Civic. When my credits rolled I decided to offer them coolant or duck tape as those were really the only things I had. They said thanks, and I walked away thinking I’d checked the box of being a good human.

God had other plans. The lady walked over to me and said many words, the crux of which was, “My cat is in labor and I need to get home. We need gas.” I said I could go get them gas if that’s all they needed. But her request then transformed into asking for a ride home for her and her ?husband?. Honestly, I profiled her and she seemed honest enough. They’d clearly had car trouble. I sent my sister this text to cover my bases.

Once they got into my car and I could assess them in the light, I discovered her husband was actually very intimidating looking. Face tattoos as well as body tattoos. I assume that if I say face tattoos then you understand that one doesn’t usually start with face tattoos and leave their torso as an untouched monument to God’s temple. Obviously, I made it out alright. I had pepper spray close to my hip just in case the movie scenario of getting stabbed in the neck played out. Maybe I could cause them temporary eye discomfort. And after all that they gave me a $20 tip despite my very unconvincing protest.

Not only did I survive, but I had two lessons re-conditioned. The first one which is boring and I will forget: Don’t judge a book by its cover. Second: You should always help people because they might give you money. Always remember to ask yourself, “What’s in it for me?” even if you don’t say it out loud.

The last Colorado park to visit was Rocky Mountain National Park, which gave Yellowstone a run for its money in the crowds contest. My stay here was very short, for as soon as I got to the top of the highest paved road in North America my check engine light came on.

I’d just had an oil change and paid for transmission fluid changes and all these little add-ons to give my car the life that it deserves. The engine light was the cherry on top of a week that had already seen my battery die and engine combust into steam after idling in the heat too long. The engine sounded bad, and I was fearing that we might be at the end of the road for my car. I diverted to Denver to be close to car shops, but the engine light went off before I could get a professional read on it.

My best guess was that prolonged use of 85 gas had caught up with me. 85 is supposed to be the regular at higher elevations, but Honda Civic Reddit convinced me that a car as old as mine might not take kindly to the gas change. We are still living in the third act of this story as the car continues to run.

The path through Denver ended up being a blessing. My friend Ridge just happened to be flying in that day. I got to spend an unexpected day with he and his wife riding Lime scooters in downtown Denver.

North of Colorado, through Wyoming, rests one of my favorite places: South Dakota. More specifically Badlands National Park. Badlands left an impression on me the first time I visited two years ago. Most subjects seem unphotogenic when my phone camera tries to capture them, so I’m not sure my pictures will capture what makes this park so special. The laziest description of this park would be that its an extensive maze of dirt canyons.

One thing you won’t see are signs saying “Don’t touch” or “Stay on Path”. It’s just an open invitation for exploration and climbing.

Last time I was here I did not get the chance to drive to North Dakota. I wasn’t sure ND’s Theodore Roosevelt National Park would be able to contend with the Badlands NP, but it does put up a fight as it is actually the same terrain type. We can call it Badlands (Teddy’s Version).  

I’ll leave any further attempts of poetic description to Teddy Roosevelt himself, who was so taken by the land he credits it with driving him to run for President, which is the kind of inspiration I need.

“The Bad Lands grade all the way from those that are almost rolling in character to those that are so fantastically broken in form and so bizarre in color as to seem hardly properly to belong to this earth.“

Theodore Roosevelt

What the park lacked in crowds it made up for in bison. This was the first herd I’d seen on the move, and I was happily taking my time as they walked along the road beside my car.

The lady behind me was less patient. I saw her throw up her arms in my rear-view mirror and yell for me to pull my car to the side. Mind you this is a two-lane road that she could just pull around me at any time. I obliged and she yelled, “They’re basically just cows.” An insensitive thing to say when the bison are right there.

I had a lot of rebuttals flow through my head. None of which I could think of in time to yell back. She’s actually right from a biological POV, but I’d rebuff her since we have never decimated the cow population in the USA. Also bison look way cooler. AND if there were 200 cows/bulls walking in the middle of the road I’d probably still slow down.

But hey, I guess we all have a line at which we will yell out our window, “They’re basically just cows.” I just hadn’t met my threshold yet. If you’re out there lady, I wish you well.

My timing in arriving in Iowa worked out well as I was able to attend the Iowa State Fair with the company of Maggie, a childhood friend who recently moved to Des Moines.

The greasy fried fair food was a welcome change from the run-of-the-mill greasy fried fast food I’ve consumed so much of the last couple weeks.

On the road from Iowa to Huntington there are a couple more National Park stops, none of which have the promise of those that I’ve left behind. I’m looking forward to the small-town Chrisman, Illinois, which contains the 10^th and final Frostop Drive-In. The Thadventure continues to move fast, and this time next week I will have seen friends in Lexington and Cincinnati. In two weeks, I will be emptying the well-worn wardrobe from my car into my childhood dresser.