High Winds in the Painted Desert

The drive from Oklahoma City to Albuquerque was tedious and long, passing through miles and miles of empty, dry terrain, all the while wondering what would happen if we miss a good opportunity to buy gasoline. It seems to me like anything can happen anywhere, but especially in the desert. After something like nine hours we arrived in Albuquerque and readied ourselves for the final push westward.

Setting out soon after dawn, we drove an incredibly windy stretch of I-40 towards Petrified Forest National Park (AZ). The gusts were reaching up to 60 mph, making car handling difficult since we were carrying a large bag on the roof. The winds also kicked up a great deal of dust, which obscured some of the distant views once we reached Petrified Forest, and made lighting the gas grill difficult. Even under shelter and behind a wall of earth, the winds were still blowing at about 20 mph.

Petrified Forest NP contains some of the most beautiful specimens of petrified wood in the United States--relics from when this desert land was once on the equator of the supercontinent Pangaea and was home to huge tracts of tropic forests. It's hard to believe from looking at it now, but 200 million years ago this area was green and wet, full of small dinosaurs and other strange reptiles. Some of the ancient trees were preserved when they were covered with sediment and not allowed to decay due to a lack of oxygen. Over time, mineral-rich waters flowing through the sediment penetrated the plant tissue and replaced it with carbon, cobalt, iron oxide, chromium, and other deposits which hardened and made the wood petrified. The tissues eventually decayed and a stone mold of the tree remained. Petrified wood is surprisingly heavy, but was often carried off by explorers in the region seeking a beautiful keepsake. Unfortunately some large deposits here were plundered long ago, and only tree fragments remain.

The Painted Desert.

Our campground was an hour's ride away in the Arizona State Park Homolovi Ruins. The wind was still in full force and the highway was now covered in a hazy blanket of wind-blown dust. About a mile from our destination, traffic stopped and stood still. They had closed the interstate because at least three accidents occurred due to lack of visibility. Luckily, we were able to ride down the shoulder to Homolovi and set up camp for the night, making stew on a small liquid fuel stove that resisted the wind better than the gas grill.

Out of the East

We camped in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, and managed to avoid the rain. On Wednesday morning, smelling of campfire, we rolled through the Appalachians and past scenic Tennessee forests newly awake from the winter and filling the sides of I-40 with greens, burgundies, reds and pinks. Tennessee is a long state indeed and it felt like we'd never reach Memphis. At some point, we realized that we had entered the Central time zone, meaning we still would be traveling about seven hours, but when we arrived it would be 5pm instead of 6. Small favors.

Since we were exhausted and planned to drive over 400 miles the following day, we were unable to truly explore Memphis--a city of enormous potential for fun, rowdiness, history and music. We were able to explore some local food--Leonard's Pit Barbecue. This little place had amazing ribs, beans and slaw; the staff was friendly with just enough south-north teasing; the atmosphere was great. Our waitress was so eager to have us order the homemade lemon icebox pie that she brought a sample slice for us to try first. Any restaurant with that level of confidence is worth tasting.

To top it all off, there were four Memphis PD squad cars in the parking lot when we ate, and Google Street View showed a Memphis PD squad car out front at the time the latest photos were taken. Leonard's is obviously a favorite with Memphis' finest. You know it must be good if it's full of local cops! And, all that police presence didn't make me feel nervous about leaving my huge roof bag on the car outside.

Since our bodies were still on Eastern time, we woke up early and left Memphis before morning traffic picked up. Today we raced across Arkansas, watching the tress get shorter and the land flatten out while Woody Guthrie chirped away from my mp3 player. I felt tempted to pull off the highway at Okfuskee to search for Woody's old house, but we wanted to make Oklahoma City before dinner.

In a tremendous stroke of luck, our room was facing the home of the Oklahoma City RedHawks, and we could see home plate through the support beams of the outfield wall. The street running behind this stadium was named for this city's own rockers, the Flaming Lips:


Tonight we decided to sample to local brews at the Bricktown Brewery. This brew house and restaurant opened in 1992, transforming an old redbrick building into a great space for eating, drinking and hanging out. It has two floors and lots of seats and room for socializing, and there was a happy hour before the RedHawks game with all house beers selling for $1.75. Bricktown Brewery has been named "Best Brewpub in the Southwest" by Brewpub Magazine, but I wasn't terribly floored by their beers. The brews were good, to be sure, but lacked imagination. My favorite was the beautifully-colored Red Brick ale, but the Bison Hefeweizen with its clove and banana flavors was pleasantly surprising.

Oh, and there was also a bigrig orgy...

The long, foggy road

Took I-81 through Pennsylvania, Maryland and West Virginia and detoured to catch Skyline Drive through Shenandoah National Park in Virginia. It rained almost all day and Skyline was blanketed by dense fog in most spots, but we were able to snap a few nice photos. No brews tonight due to Blue Mountain brewery being closed on Monday (boo). Hopefully it won't rain tomorrow and we can stay in The Great Smoky Mountains.

Note the fog.

There were alot of deer along the drive.

Bethlehem Brew Works

We spent the morning packing the Civic and sped away around 1 in the afternoon after visiting Spike's in Cranston--the All-American comes with baked beans, cheddar and mustard. Connecticut traffic was terrible, per usual. The CTDOT must have a 50-year plan for highway improvement, because in the eight or so years I've been traveling 95, they've never been finished. The road was particularly bumpy, and since the car was overweight by about 900 extra pounds, every bump elicited a number of choice words from my lips.

Bethlehem, PA is by no means world renowned as a popular destination, but road-trippers ought to consider a stop over in this former industrial town. The downtown area has been dressed up and revitalized, and even the classic architecture left from the days of yore is interesting. But our mission was more specific than sight-seeing. Our mission was to sample the offerings at the Bethlehem Brew Works.

The interior boasts an atmosphere meant to merge Bethlehem's steelmaking past with a hip modern look. There are specific nights set aside from music an even one night each month for "pints and policy," a draw for local activists. But the main event here is, of course, the beer. For $8.50, visitors can enjoy a sampler featuring six 5.5oz beers. Who could ask for anything more?

My personal favorite was the Kilt Raiser Scottish Ale, but other greats included BBWs 11th Anniversary Ale and the Machine Shop brew. All three are seasonal and available for a limited time. Oddly enough, the Brew Works' Valley Golden--their best-selling beer--was my least favorite, but to each their own. Our server informd me that the brewers recently decided to lower the temperatures, making all the beers a bit colder now, which I thought was a good decision for their Oatmeal Stout. Unfortunately, the Marzen was sold out during my visit.

The food was also good, but strangely lacking in presentation given the aesthetic that the owners were aiming for. I ate the pulled pork sandwich with garlic mashed potatoes and cold slaw. My dad had the mac & cheese, which is served with warmed stewed tomatoes and is dynamite in combination.

Overall, The Bethlehem Brew Works is worth visiting, even if Bethlehem, PA is not on your list of things to do. No one should count this steel town out.

Let's try this again...

Well, hello blog. You’ve gotten a bit dusty this past year.

After returning from South America, I thought I would transition my travel writings into a blog about sustainability and developments on the environmental scene. Admittedly, I felt overwhelmed by constant, fast internet access, and by the wealth of new “web 2.0” developments that were waiting for me when I got home. YouTube, something that happened while I was living in Bolivia, captivated me for a whole week.

My largest obstacle was the abundance of information. The internet is not new, and neither is the fact that it contains more information than anyone could ever read, but new functional developments had made it so easy for users to consume and sort through content. How was I to compete with this massive river of information? I wanted to write for my own development, but there’s an unparalleled joy in knowing that others find value in what I have to say.

On my birthday last year, I read an article by Paul Boutin which clarified my angst:

Scroll down Technorati's list of the top 100 blogs and you'll find personal sites have been shoved aside by professional ones. Most are essentially online magazines: The Huffington Post. Engadget. TreeHugger. A stand-alone commentator can't keep up with a team of pro writers cranking out up to 30 posts a day.

Impressions that the blog world had been saturated was further confirmed by searching the term “green blog.” The number of responses was dizzying. Hundreds of professional and amateur opinions had already been generated, discussing and analyzing all caveats of the sustainable question. There are even sites that categorize the green blogs themselves. Astounding.

After working for eight months for a non-profit whose mission was to transform Rhode Island into the first sustainable state in the U.S., I learned a great deal of information and garnered a number of opinions about this great challenge we face as a planet—how to meet the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their needs? I’ve kept up with a lot of blogs via RSS feeds (one of my favorite things about the modern internet), and I’ve reached the conclusion that it’s no longer a question of whether or not my thoughts will be ranked on the first three search pages. I must blog because my writing needs an outlet, and my interests require a space to grow, develop, and attract feedback and participation from others.

With my recent decision to move from Rhode Island to San Diego, CA, the zeal to write has been re-ignited. The very idea of a journey across the American landscape to a new home mirrors one of the great myths of this country—a long, uncertain voyage to an unfamiliar destination will strengthen and renew the voyager.

So, in the interest of brevity, keep watching this space.