Blogging Across America Archives

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"Crackhead University" and Newburgh NY

The upstate New York version of the South Bronx, otherwise known as Newburgh, has been featured here in the past. In October 2003 I visited that less-than-charming burg: "Where can I buy crack in the mid-Hudson River Valley region of New York State?"

While driving through a semi-rural area that was the last thing I was expecting to find.

Then, last year John Kerry and Teresa Heinz ate at a Wendy's there and I provided extensive coverage.

Now, "LouDAWG" informs us that they even made a documentary about that fine city: "Crackhead University".

Posted at 01:34 PM | Comments (3)

Chinga Chinga Boom Boom Chinga Chinga

Can you imagine some really bad porno music? You know, the kind with the rhythm guitars or the saxophones, preferably from the 70s or 80s?

OK.

Now, read this report from the LAT: "We're Not in G-Rated Kansas Anymore"

ABILENE, Kan. — Outside, the prairie lies dark and still. In the windowless gray building by the Interstate 70 offramp, a clerk with a tired face rings up sex toys. "Need batteries for that?" she asks politely, again and again...

Adult "superstores" like this are popping up all over rural America — brightly lighted, clean, as well-organized and well-stocked as a Wal-Mart.

Remote freeway offramps are X-rated in Quaker City, Ohio (pop. 563), and Nelson, Mo. (pop. 212), in Montrose, Ill., and Perry, Mich. The Lion's Den chain operates 29 stores in the Midwest, including this one in Abilene, off Exit 272, near the cows and hay bales of Dickinson County...

Of course, I noticed this last year and recently as well.

Posted at 03:28 PM | Comments (0)

What is it about Salina Kansas?

Last year, while driving across Kansas, I stopped at a store selling gothic/fetish clothing.

Now, someone is camped out on the roof of a different store that sells porno:

Written on a white sheet tacked to the front of Behind Closed Doors, 768 N. Broadway, are the words: “Honk if you support the right to choose for yourselves.”

Ray Morris, a Salina man who is spending a week on the roof of the adult store, got more than honks his first two days.

“Mostly, I’ve had a good response,” Morris said. “Some people honk. Some say, ‘Fight the good fight,’ or ‘We’re behind you,’ or things like that.”

Others, Morris said, have made obscene gestures.

Morris is spending a week on the roof to demonstrate against a group that is seeking a grand jury to investigate whether Behind Closed Doors and Priscilla’s, 2144 Planet, are promoting obscenity by selling sexually oriented products...

AP report here.

Posted at 11:53 AM | Comments (0)

"What was the key lesson learned on the Blogging Across America tour?"

People frequently ask me, "What was the key lesson learned on the Blogging Across America tour?"

And, I tell them in all seriousness, the key lesson learned - the one bit of info I find most perplexing - is this: there are no Chinese steam table restaurants outside California.

For those "foreigners" among you, these restaurants are generally located in small mini-malls. They feature a small seating area with about a dozen seats. There's a counter containing a steam table in which are set several dishes. For about $4 you can get rice, chow mein, and two main dishes. Note that that's not the same as a "Chinese buffet" where one can expect to pay more; most buffet places are also more sit-down oriented.

In all my travels throughout the entire four month Blogging Across America tour, I did not find a Chinese steam table to-go type of place except in California. The moment you enter California - in Blythe - suddenly there it is. Perhaps it has something to do with health codes, or perhaps California is just leading the nation. Yet again.

Posted at 08:46 PM | Comments (1)

Geronimo, Cochise, and me

As I was getting ready to leave Lordsburg, I was still debating where I was going to travel next and what I was going to do. West or North? Forsake L.A. and spend some quality time in Denver?

I briefly considered visiting the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument. Tent camping there was free, but it was also about 20 degrees at night and it was (supposedly) a tough 2 hour drive from the monument to the next "big" town, Silver City. Subconsciously I sucked up my drive-to-the-monument time with my photo essay of Lordsburg. Then, I headed west and after just twenty miles I was rid of out of New Mexico and into Arizona.

I stopped to visit the Fort Bowie National Historic Site:

For more than 30 years Fort Bowie and Apache Pass were the focal point of military operations eventually culminating in the surrender of Geronimo in 1886 and the banishment of the Chiricahuas to Florida and Alabama. It was the site of the Bascom Affair, a wagon train massacre, and the battle of Apache Pass, where a large force of Chiricahua Apaches under Mangus Colorados and Cochise fought the California Volunteers... Apache resistance was finally crushed at Fort Bowie, and the result was the end of the Indian wars in the United States.

The several buildings which made up the fort are now in ruins, but it is worth a visit. Those who are disabled are allowed to take a road to the fort, everyone else has to walk there.

The drive from I10 to the trailhead is about 12 miles on back roads. The total walking distance to the fort (including that required to walk around the fort) is about 4 miles RT with about 200' of gain. It's an easy hike, but it goes through some attractive areas. It starts with dry southwestern scrub, but when you're in the area of the Apache Springs (which is still running) it gets a bit greener. I saw a fox cross the path and there are several other items of interest along the way, such as the route of the Butterfield stage.

The town of Bowie, Arizona itself has a business loop off the I10, but there didn't appear to be too many businesses still operating. The town of Bowie makes Lordsburg look like a thriving cosmopolitan metroplex. There is, however, a shop selling "pecans, walnuts, and wine," but it was closed. I got out of the car to stretch my legs a bit, but I waited until I was almost on the freeway to do it. There are still people living in Bowie, and I was a bit apprehensive with the thought of being set upon by rural street urchins. On the outskirts of town was a house with fresh green paint and a green and yellow fence. It looked a bit out of place to see something that wasn't delapidated in such a town; perhaps it belongs to the purveyors of those "pecans, walnuts, and wine."

Posted at 08:25 PM | Comments (1)

Lonewacko of Lordsburg

On my way out of El Paso, I made a bit of a mistake. Namely, I should have spent the night in Las Cruces. It's New Mexico's second largest city (OK, that's not saying much, but anyway...) and it seems to have some of the things that El Paso lacks.

For instance, I took a spin through the La Messilla area and I saw some Christmas carollers in the square there singing away for a crowd of about 100 people. It was mainly a family-type of event, and the only shops there appeared to be touron gift shops and restaurants, so I didn't stop. Nevertheless, unlike El Paso there appeared to be people out and about at night. The motels there are expensive for some reason, but I could have grabbed a tent site. Instead, I kept driving west on the 10. Just between you and me, I kinda wanted to get out of New Mexico. Not that it's that bad of a state and all, it's just that after spending a couple weeks in West Texas and southeast New Mexico, it was kinda wearing on me, if you know what I mean.

Around Deming, I started to get a bit tired, so I decided to look for accomodations. By this time I had decided to tent to save money. I stopped at the Road Runner campground. There were no other tent campers there, and it was a set of open spaces next to a fence separating it from another RV park. I didn't consider it that safe, so I kept on moving. I decided I could make it to Lordsburg before I crashed.

By the time I got to Lordsburg I couldn't drive any further. There's a KOA there, and that's where I planned to spend the night. When I first drove in, I saw a hare hop its merry way across the road. Oh, how nice! As it was late, the office was closed. But, as with most other KOA's, they love their late registrators.

While familiarizing myself with the campground map, someone approaches me on the driver's side and from behind, and asks if he can help me. I decide to take a look around first. He says I should go for it. The tent site at the back of the camp is taken, but the ones at the front are free. Unfortunately, the ones at the front are near the entrance gate, and I didn't particularly like the look of the houses right outside the gate.

Nevertheless, I decide to get one of the sites. The Philipino owner curtly fills out the requisite forms in triplicate. I decide, partially based on past experiences with others from the Philipines (send your letters to abuse[at]tolstoy[dot]com), that it's not so much that he's rude, it's just his way. I was originally thinking he was an asshole, and I was considering not giving him my bidness. But, after coming to that realization, I go ahead with the transaction. Only afterwards does he go into the thing about the restrooms.

You see, a lady was almost raped at another nearby campground's restrooms. And, since he's near the freeway, people occasionally stop by to use his facilities. The restrooms there are now equipped with touchpad entry locks, and as an official KOA guest I am given their combination. OK, OK, when I use the restroom I'll be sure and close the door behind me. Fine, let me set up the tent and sack out.

Which I proceeded to do. I'd just put in all three poles in the tent body when, looking for the best place to locate the tent, I noticed something out of place. There were several pellets mixed in with the gravel of my new tent site. Now, I realize that hares or rabbits haven't so far been implicated as Hanta virus carriers; that's been restricted to a few species of mice and one species of rat. Nevertheless, they are rodents and I don't want to get sick. So, I decided to cancel my stay there.

Thankfully, the owner was making the rounds of the place, shining his flashlight under the RVs parked there. He was wearing a bandana, and I couldn't tell whether it was him or some very bold RV burglar. It turned out to be him, and he agreed to cancel me out. It appears that, aside from not sweeping the (most likely generally unused) tent sites, he's a Lordsburg resident who's doing the best with what he's got.

After that brief waste of time, I began looking for a motel, and I stayed at the Budget Motel on their I10 loop for $25. It wasn't that bad at that price.

In the morning I took a tour of the town. Lordsburg looks like a stereotypical southwest town on the extreme decline. The ghost town of Shakespeare is located a few miles south of Lordsburg. It's only open to the public a few days a month, and that wasn't one of the days. Even though I didn't see Shakespeare, I'd imagine that in places Lordsburg and Shakespeare look similar.

A business loop of the I10 runs through the town. Their business loop is about the same length as that of Fort Stockton. However, the business loop in Fort Stockton has a large number of motels ("Over 900 motel rooms!" their touron information tells us) as well as a fair supply of fast food restaurants. Lordsburg has a smaller number of motels and associated businesses, and many of them are boarded-up. In certain sections, 1/3 of them appeared to have been patiently awaiting renovation for many years. Only the parts directly off the freeway have a few chain motels and fast food stores.

There's only a small section of the main drag that isn't boarded up. In that section, I stopped in an antique store. Apparently a local burgher had purchased a couple of blocks there and is in the process of fixing them up. Unfortunately, he spends his weekends in Tucson, so he wasn't available for an interview.

The young lady at the gas station had a nice face, but she was a bit stocky bodily. Plus, she failed the Lonewacko TQ (touron quotient) test. She wasn't able to give me a detailed explanation of why Lordsburg had a museum or a historic area. Plus, she was too young and, after I started to hear her discussing local gossip with someone else, I quickly rejected that idea.

"But, Lonewacko, you should have spent more time there. Done a photo essay. Interviewed lots of people, found out why they kept on hangin' on in the boarded-up town. Then, you might have something blog-worthy. A photo essay on residents of an incipient ghost town would make this blog worth reading!"

Listen, m*$%^#$%@#($%, if you want a f*$((#& photo essay, you get off your f#(@)($ a*$ and drive to f@#)$(# Lordsburg yourself. I'm f*$(#($ sick of this s#*@. I drive all the f#*@**# way from L.A. to Maine and back, and all you b(#@#*#@ can do is whine like a b*$#*. F#@@ you, m$#(@(#$(##(s.

Posted at 11:45 PM | Comments (1)

[Insert El Paso summary here]

After my hike at Hueco Tanks on December 5, I drove out of El Paso along the Trans-Mountain Highway. I already posted some of my thoughts on El Paso here, and I hereby promise you a more complete treatment at a later date.

On the way out of town, I paid a visit to the El Paso Archaeological Society's museum. It's rather small but it's somewhat informative. Unlike me, the lady there thinks Kennewick Man is an Asian. To each his own. The mannequins there are almost nekkid. Sure, some have loincloths on, but some are fully nude for all the world to see. Lonewacko Jr. jumped a bit when he saw a hottie mannequin on her knees grinding masa, so I escorted him out of the museum tout de suite.

Outside the museum is Wilderness Park. I hadn't read the brochure that carefully, because I thought it was a zoo like the Living Desert State Park outside Carlsbad. However, it was basically just a small cactus garden.

Next door to the archaeology museum is the National Border Patrol Museum, which was one of the places I had on my El Paso shortlist. I could have safely passed it by however. It's kind of rundown and antiquated, and not in a good way. Some might consider it a funky tourist destination, but I just thought it was a bit dumpy. They're independent and not affiliated with the Border Patrol itself, so they refused to discuss border issues with me. If they knew anything about the wider context of immigration policy, they kept it to themselves. They were mainly a cop museum, and not a site dealing with the wider issue of immigration.

And, like I said, stay tuned for an El Paso summary in a day or so.

Posted at 11:19 PM | Comments (1)

The other Hueco

I spent the night of December 4th in the campground at Hueco Tanks State Park outside El Paso. The temperature was above freezing, and initially I hadn't set up the rain fly. However, around 10pm suddenly the wind came in with a vengeance, making it quite cold and most likely in the 20s with the wind chill. I put up the rain fly and spent the night hearing the flapping of the tent. In the morning, I took the Pictograph tour, which was quite interesting. The tour was lead by the park's superintendent who, strangely enough, had a Radio Voice Like Me.

Unfortunately, the other four members of the tour were housewives who had apparently never walked on rocks before, and they slowed it down a bit. If my fellow tourons had had a bit more experience, perhaps the tour might have been able to take in more places. Nevertheless, I saw several ancient pictographs, as well as some from when this was a stop on the Butterfield stage in the late 1800s. Unfortunately, there was also some graffitti of a more recent vintage. After being on the rock for a few years, the graffitti becomes more or less part of the rock and can't be removed. Because of things like that, they now make campers there sit through a 20-minute video giving background information on the park, but also telling you all the things not to do.

After taking the pictograph tour, I took their chain trail up and over the North Mountain. I didn't need the chains, but I guess if you were carrying lots of stuff it might be useful. Then I headed across the rocks, spending time looking for a way off the rock that didn't involve rappeling. After making a few trips to the edge, I finally found a way off the rock. The North Mountain is the only one of the four mountains there that has full access, and it's somewhat similar to Stoney Point, albeit with a foot print a few times larger.

The name "Hueco Tanks" refers to hollows (the Spanish meaning of "hueco") in the rocks which contains collected rain water. One is pictured in the second picture above. They've been used as a water source in the area for thousands of years, and those who've stopped there have left the various pictographs on the rocks. I saw several huecos along the way, some of which were filled with water. The name "Waco" is apparently derived from the "Waco Indians," and their name may be derived from "hueco."

Most of the rock climbers there were boulderers, and I didn't see anyone with top ropes set up, so I decided to move on.

Fort Bowie, which will be covered in this post, was another stop on the Butterfield stage.

Posted at 10:53 PM | Comments (0)

What you drive through on the way to the Carlsbad Caverns

On the way to Carlsbad Caverns, you drive through White's City. It's a small tourist trap with a motel, gas station, museum, etc. I didn't visit the "Million Dollar Museum" as it's already been done.

The above shot was taken on the way to the city of Carlsbad, not to the caverns. Specifically, just over the New Mexico state line north of Orla.

To get to the caverns from Carlsbad I took a different route. Consult a map if you're confused. You see, it's a bit like an "A", with the city of Carlsbad at the top of the "A" and with White's City at the midpoint of the left line of the "A" (marked as b' on the figure, and otherwise known as 62/180). The right line of the "A" is the highway from Pecos to Carlsbad, specifically 285. The horizontal crosspiece of the "A" (marked c' in the figure) is a back road ("Black River Village Road") the cuts between 285 south of Carlsbad and White's City. Like I said, this would be much easier if you had a map in front of you.

Posted at 10:14 PM | Comments (0)

Behind the scenes at the Lonewacko Blog

Driving from Fort Stockton, Texas to Carlsbad, New Mexico with his tape recorder in his hand, blogging superstar "Lonewacko" tries to write the Great American Road Novel. This transcript - taken direct and unedited from the Lonewacko tape recorder - shows the blogging legend at work:

"shocked around the bend and see two giant mobile homes, two huge wide loads coming straight at you several feet into your lane.
The asphalt creates a lake that evaporates and disappears as you approach, only to reappear further on down the road. Cars coming at you appear to have undercarriage lights as their chrome reflects in the sunlight. It's hard to tell distances and it's hard to tell whether the car coming straight at you is in your lane or not. The reflection of the cars in the distance makes them look like boats on a lake. As the semi-trucks get closer all apparitions have disappeared, and the truck is there just like it would be on a freeway. Except the truck is driving 70 miles per hour and just feet to your left. The truck passes and so does the danger, however, to leave you a momento of your meeting, the truck's wake slams into your car and forces you to turn the wheel a bit to correct.

Suddenly the top of a tractor trailer or a moterhome rises over the next bump in the road. Slowly but steadily rises over the next bump.

In parts, water across the road forms a serious of strems whcih evaporate together like gates lifting. Tires of the semi-trucks reflect the water underneath them. Chrome shimmers in the heat."

Posted at 10:02 PM | Comments (0)

Lonewacko drives from Fort Stockton Texas to Carlsbad New Mexico

A couple weeks ago I drove to Carlsbad, NM starting from Fort Stockton, TX. Fort Stockton is a dumpy, disheveled hole which isn't that bad a place to spend a night, except it doesn't have a Wendy's nor a Hardee's/Carl's Jr. I had a bit of a problem at the Wal*Mart there, and, if not for the fact that it's the only Wal*Mart for untold miles, I'd suggest you avoid shopping there.

On my way to Alpine, I had stocked up in the FS Wal*Mart, spending in excess of $28. At the time I was wearing my backpack, and no one said a word about it as I was spending my hard-earned blogging dinero.

A couple days later I went back, and I was told by the "greeter" and her supervisor that I couldn't wear my backpack in the store. They seemed to like my money good enough before. In protest of this ever-changing policy, I immediately went out to my car and returned as much of the stuff as I could. I even went back with a second load later.

On the way to Carlsbad, I drove through Pecos, which is about 20% larger than Fort Stockton and about 30% more run-down. I saw a few places with smashed windows, and I hadn't seen anything like that in Fort Stockton. The girl who was trying to sell Avon products was cute, but her and her high-heeled tennis shoes were a bit too young and it looked like she was driving a family van, so I didn't even make an attempt when I met her outside Pecos' museum. I didn't have a second thought about it when I accidently met her again at a gas stations blocks from there. I had gone to the gas station by chance. While getting into my car outside the closed museum, I had seen a cop car go by. Then, a half a minute later, what looked like an unmarked cop car went the same way. Thinking something was up, I followed the unmarked car, but I lost it somewhere near the freeway. So, turn to someone else for the Pecos crime blotter.

Overall, Pecos looks like a good place to just drive through. On my way to doing that, I decided to stop at the local McDonalds. The girl at the drive through had a cold and, after thinking about it for a bit, I decided to go inside and return it. The men's room was out of soap, so I was forced to use some of my precious hand sanitizer.

There was no "McDonald's" under the large double-arches outside, just a big empty space. Perhaps it had been stolen or had fallen off.

Standing beside the counter was my old friend Ronald McDonald. However, he looked a bit different from his usual trademarked self. Specifically, the styrofoam figurine had strange white lines and pockmarks on his orange suit. Upon closer inspection, it turned out not to be a new design. It looked like Ronald had been run over or otherwise abraded.

Posted at 09:59 PM | Comments (0)

The Robert Hilburn Interview: Lonewacko Jr.

Lonewacko and Lonewacko Jr. recently visited El Paso as part of their Blogging Across America tour. I interviewed the junior member of the team in a cheap motel at an undisclosed location a day's drive from their home base in Los Angeles. Lonewacko Jr. entered the room dressed in a white sweatshirt, and we began the interview...

Robert Hilburn: There was much expectation and ensuing speculation regarding your recent visit to El Paso. Que pasa?

Lonewacko Jr.: When Lonewacko first told me we were going to El Paso, I was quite, er, excited. In fact, I haven't been this excited since we visited northern Maine. Of course, I'd rather visit Brazil, or Quebec, or Bangkok, but El Paso definitely sounded interesting...

RH: So, did you, you know?

LWJ: No, not even close.

RH: Oh.

LWJ: Yes, same thing I said. [laughs]

RH: Did you get close?

LWJ: No, not really. Lonewacko kept eyeballing the young lady at the Kinko's, but he never even talked to her. He chatted a bit with a lady who seemed to be some kind of regional gas station manager, but nothing came of that either. He chatted with a lady in a gas station in Ocotillo, but nothing came of that either...

RH: So, did Lonewacko try to meet Tejanas in some venue other than gas stations?

LWJ: Oh boy did he try. It's just that there aren't really places. He took me to the Barnes & Noble one night, but it was mostly teenies. He only thought of the UTEP library the day before we left, and we never went there. It's not like there's an infrastructure, you know?

RH: So what did you and Lonewacko do? Just watch telenovelas with the sound off?

LWJ: [laughs] Yep, that's about what it came to.

RH: Thank you for your time, Lonewacko Jr.

-- Robert Hilburn is the L.A. Times' Pop Music and Blog Critic.

Posted at 04:21 PM | Comments (0)

The Organ Mountains

No jokes now, they actually look pretty interesting. They're on BLM land next to the White Sands Missile Range. I spent a bit of time and fuel driving off the highway six miles to the campground in search of information and perhaps a short hike. The only two described hikes were too long to do that late and there was no one else around except an older camper.

So, I continued on. Las Cruces looks slightly interesting, and might warrant a future visit. But, I wanted to get to El Paso, so I didn't stay long.

Posted at 01:08 PM | Comments (1)

That explains everything!

A shot from the White Sands Missile Range museum.

The plaque says "This spacecraft was a section of the Voyager Balloon System which was launched near Roswell, NM and landed on WSMR... These bright, shiny aeroshells projected an illusion of flying saucers."

What is it they want us to believe? That all those UFO sightings were actually caused by either this thing or one of those "weather balloons?" Or, is something more subtle at play here? Do they want us to dismiss the first explanation, in an attempt to hide the even more hideous truth?

Posted at 01:04 PM | Comments (0)

Lonewacko of Arabia

When I visited Waco, I avoided making the obvious pun. So, to make up for that, the title of this post.

The above shots were taken at the White Sands National Monument, which is located between Alamogordo and Las Cruces, NM.

Driving along the road into the heart of the dunes is certainly an interesting experience. It's somewhat reminiscent of Ice Station Zebra, but with sand instead of snow.

I decided to take the Alkali Flats trail, which is a 4.6 mile loop through the dunes. I saw people at the beginning of the trail and at the end, but in the vast middle section I only saw one other person briefly off in the distance. At least I think it was someone else.

The Alkali Flats trail isn't really a trail, just a series of posts with red tops, designed to help you avoid walking in circles. That would certainly be somewhat easy to do, given the fact that the area is flat and, unless you took your bearings using the mountain ranges available on either side, you might easily get lost. If you were to get lost out here, in addition to just walking in circles, you'd also need to worry about walking in a straight line and never seeing that the road was this way or that.

After about three miles of the trail, I was really getting tired of it. The monotony of going up one dune and down the next and between the next was the worst part of the hike. But, then again it was also the best part of the hike. After a couple hours of doing this, it became a bit - pardon me - zen-like. Or something mystical like that.

There are things to see along the way, such as the "pedestal" in the last photo. That's about 20' high, and sheltered inside a depression created by a dune. There are also the crusts like that shown in the second photo. And, if I had done this at the start or end of the day or at night, I probably would have seen a few animals, however small.

Unlike any other hike I've taken on this trip, this hike had no goal to get to. There's nothing at the farthest point of the loop except an alkali flat. No mountain summit here. Just one flat area or sand dune after another.

At the beginning of the hike I kick-stepped and switch-backed up a few sand dunes. I soon got tired of that, as there were many sand dunes ahead, and I certainly couldn't expend the energy necessary to go up and down each one. Instead I began following the markers and adjusting to the monotony.

UPDATE: As mentioned in this post, I had some problems with my hiking poles both here and on Guadalupe Peak. The poles were somewhat helpful here because I replaced the baskets they come with with snow baskets. Yes, when one is hiking in Touron Country that causes ijits to utter for the 1,000,000th time "where's the snow?" My response to that is simple: it's part of my probation agreement. If I used the poles without baskets, they'd make quite an efficient spear. I certainly don't want my PO to see me without baskets on my poles now then, do I?

Posted at 12:58 PM | Comments (0)

"I've had this conversation a few times before..."

[Post summary: Stay away from Alamogordo, NM. Just drive right through it. Don't stop. Don't buy anything. If you can find a way to make them spend money instead of the other way around, do it.]

"Say, do you have any demographic, er, musings on Alamogordo?"

"No"

"I mean, where did those people come from? Have they moved there from other states?"

"I get the feeling most of them are people who've been there for a long time."

"Well, I kinda got the feeling that a lot of them were from Oklahoma, or Appalachia, or the Deep South."

"I hadn't noticed that..."

"I mean, a lot of them seem to be hicks. No offense to hicks, that is. But, a lot of the Alamogordo residents seem to be hicks, and not the good kind."

"Well, I haven't had too many good experiences there..."

"Any idea why? Is it going through an economic downturn or something?"

"I don't know, but you aren't the first person to notice something wrong about the place. I've only been here a few months, but I've had similar conversations before."

Unfortunately, that conversation took place just as I was leaving the fine town of Alamogordo, New Mexico. This was after I'd spent a couple days and some of my money there. I had a bad experience the first day, and a bad experience the second. On the third day, I decided to get out of there as fast as possible before something else happened.

I first drove into Alamogordo along the scenic US82. It would have been a bit more scenic if I'd driven it earlier in the day. As it was, I drove through the areas with the highest concentration of highway-crossing deer at twilight, and by the time I got to the even more scenic parts it was dark.

I soon set to finding a place to spend the night. The former KOA campground on 24th looked like it would OK in an extreme pinch, except it was a bit more expensive than one might hope, and it was basically just an open, semi-grassy area divided into demarcated tent sites. Plus, there was no dataport, just an antiquated pay phone.

I began looking for something else, when suddenly I heard a snap and everything got blurry...

The frame of my glasses had broke, and it didn't look like something I could fix myself. I began frantically calling jewelers and optical shops until I found someone who seemed like they could help me. Which was quite lucky, considering it was after 6pm on a Saturday.

I'm not going to bore you with the whole long story. Let's just say I thought I was going to pay $30 to have my old lenses put in a new frame, but when I got the bill it was for $40. I felt like I'd been baited and switched. Perhaps I had been, or perhaps it had been me who'd made the mistake. Although, I'm very doubtful about the latter. After a bit of disagreeable back and forth, I ended up paying the $30, otherwise I'd currently still be in New Mexico awaiting my day in Small Claims Court.

The next day, I had an unfortunate incident in the local Wal*Mart. I'm not going to go into that at all.

But: if you trust me - and you should - it is my personal recommendation that you avoid Alamogordo entirely. Especially avoid eyeglass-related shops there. Especially avoid the Wal*Mart there. Trust me on this one.

On the other hand, if burning Harry Potter books - alongside those of William Shakespeare - is your thing, please move there.

Posted at 12:39 AM | Comments (0)

Carlsbad Caverns

Like Guadalupe Peak (see the previous entry), I'd wanted to visit the Caverns for a few years. I read up on them and seen the pictures, and I was ready for my first trip underground. Since I'd done the Caverns of Sonora a few days earlier, it wasn't an entirely new experience. However, the sheer size of the Carlsbad Caverns was quite different from those in Sonora.

I visited them twice. The first day I took the Natural Entrance and then took the loop around the Big Room. Yes, I did see a lot of things and read several of the plaques, but I also tried to do it fairly quickly. It took a little over an hour, which included me slowly jogging parts of the path. Part of that was also, to be honest, to show that I didn't have many worries about being 800' or so below the surface with uncountable tons of earth above my head.

Unfortunately, I didn't take any pictures that day or bring along my headlamp so I could look into dark corners. I really should have.

My first visit was on a weekday. My next visit was on the Friday after Thanksgiving.

Trying to take pictures or have other quiet moments on the second day was quite difficult, as the place was packed. I'd set down the tripod, only to see yet another human wave headed my way down the narrow path. Lift tripod, wait, place tripod, see wave, repeat.

Shortly after the last human wave crashed on my shoreline, the ranger came by "sweeping" all of us tourons in front of her. So, trying to get a respite between the last elevator down and the sweeping ranger is not going to work. Better to visit on a weekday morning I guess.

Seemingly every possible photo of the Caverns has been taken, but the ceiling might be more neglected than others, so I tried to take some shots of it. It's a bit difficult because of the lighting: in the few shots I was able to try, there was always one part of the shot that was brighter than others. The above shot should just be considered a failed attempt.

Posted at 12:28 AM | Comments (0)

The top of Texas

I hiked up Guadalupe Peak - the highest point in Texas at 8749' - on Thanksgiving day. In keeping with the Lonewacko ethos, it was a solo hike.

I felt very good about getting to the top of this peak. I've wanted to come here for about three years, but one thing or another would keep me away. I'd book a flight, then cancel it a week later. When I set out in the morning from Carlsbad, I was concerned about the wind, and I was thinking I might only go up part way and then turn around. But, by just putting one foot in front of the other several hundred times, I made it to the top.

It took a bit under 3 hours up and a bit under 2 hours down. There were several other parties on the trail, and I was joined on the summit by a large group of college-aged hikers (who I passed on the way up...), a couple, and another soloist.

My pack weighed around 20 lbs., over half of it liquid refreshment. I carried 3L of water and 2L of Gatorade. I drank 1.5L of the water and 1L of the Gatorade getting to the top, and the rest coming down and on the drive away. That was a lot more than I needed, but better safe than sorry.

When I left Carlsbad in the morning, the wind was quite heavy, but it was a lot lighter in the Park, and it was never an issue on the hike, although it did make it a bit chilly. The summit itself was actually somewhat warm.

Many of the others who climb this peak seem to come from El Paso. I came from the other direction, so my first good view of El Capitan was from the summit of Guadalupe Peak. It was quite impressive, especially since I hadn't seen it from below first.

There's no real exposure anywhere on the hike, unless you walked off (or were blown off) the trail. The trail and the surroundings remind me a bit of terrain at the lower levels of the San Gabriels or San Jacinto Peak.

A minor complication occured when one of my hiking poles failed: the lower section collapsed, and I couldn't get it to tighten back up. Oh well, I'll just use one pole, switching it from hand to hand every once in a while. That worked for a bit until I went to lengthen the pole that still worked: I couldn't get it to tighten up either. I had had a problem with these poles before, but in the opposite direction. The lower section was stuck in there, and not even putting it in a vise and trying to turn it with a wrench worked. REI had just replaced both lower sections at that time. I'm sure they'll replace these poles as well, but I might just trade up to something that's hopefully a bit better. BTW, these are REI/Komperdell Traverse poles.

Wackily enough, the poles later worked for my hike in the White Sands National Monument (more later, you know the drill by now), but then failed near the end of that hike...

Since I got Mount Livermore and Baldy Peak earlier, I now have the #1, #5, and #7 highest named peaks in Texas. (Don't laugh, it's an interesting state.) Numbers 2, 3, and 4 are also in Guadalupe Mountains National Park, but, since two of the three require cross-country travel and at least an overnight, I decided to return and get them when there are more of me.

Posted at 11:52 PM | Comments (1)

What to do in Alpine, Texas

Alpine is a somewhat interesting small town pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Or, at least 60 miles from the I10, and about 100 miles from the real middle of nowhere, Big Bend National Park. Unfortunately, I never made it to Big Bend, but I did spend some time in Alpine. I'll save my description of the town for a later post, but for now:

I stayed one night at the Pecan Grove RV Park. It's right in Alpine, which is a lot more convenient than the next tent camping area at the Davis Mountains State Park, twenty or so miles from any services. I camped in a repurposed RV spot, camping as far away from the sewer line as possible. There were no trees between me and the RVs, but at least it was fairly cheap. I used the Boingo WiFi access at the Lost Alaskan RV park, which is on the edge of town. When I got there, the office was closed and no one else was around. So, I put on a couple layers, set up the computer on a table outside the office and went to it. This was the strangest yet Boingo location, but it worked and it was quite surprising to find a WAP away out here in the middle of mostly nothing.

I visited the McDonald Observatory, which is located outside Fort Davis. It's got a pretty good view there, and they hold Star Parties there on a regular basis. The Star Parties let you view the nighttime sky through telescopes, but unfortunately you can't use the two large research telescopes. They do, however, let the general public look through the research telescopes occasionally, but you need to reserve months in advance according to their brochure.

More later...

Posted at 11:32 PM | Comments (0)

Mitre Peak

When I first drove into Alpine, I noticed a quite impressive pyramid-shaped peak rising out of the desert. It was visible starting a few miles from Alpine along 67.

On my way to visit Davis Mountain State Park (see the previous entry. Confusing, eh?), about 10 miles outside of Alpine, I turned onto Mitre Peak Road which seemed like it would lead to the base of the peak.

Indeed it did. However, the presence of barbed wire fences indicated that this wasn't public land. I asked at the neighboring Mitre Peak Camp (a Girl Scout camp) if it was possible to climb it. The Camp didn't own the peak, it was owned by an out of town rancher. The peak is 6100', and it appears rough from both the front and the back.

Apparently, there have been problems with people running into problems when trying to climb it. If you take the right route it (supposedly) doesn't require ropes. But, one party took over 12 hours to get up and down, and another party had to be airlifted from the top.

After that, the owner apparently decided to disallow access. In any other western state, there's a fair chance that this peak would be on Forest Service or BLM land. However, there is almost no public land in Texas. Other than Texas' state parks, various city parks, and a few National Parks, everything is privately owned.

The map in the BLM office in Carlsbad was quite striking. Splotches of color showed BLM and FS presence throughout Utah, New Mexico, Nevada, and California. Nevada was almost all salmon pink. Whereas Texas was almost all white, with the exception of the National Parks.

I might have more to say about this subject later, but for now I'm still trying to decide which is worse: the taking of rights or property by a government agency, or private land owners being allowed to hog things like Mitre Peak all to themselves.

Apparently there's a land rights proponent in Alpine who is continually writing letters to the editor in opposition to The Nature Conservancy; I have her phone number and perhaps I'll do a spot of real reporting at a later date.

Posted at 12:09 AM | Comments (8)

Mt. Livermore and Baldy Peak

On November 21, I drove through Alpine, Texas (of which more later), bound for Davis Mountain State Park. The park didn't seem that very interesting, but then again I didn't do anything other than stop at the visitor's center. It's divided into two parts: a developed area with some campsites, and a primitive area across the highway. I asked the ranger if the highest point in their county was in the park, and it turned out that it wasn't even close: their highest point was about 6000', but the highest point in the county was Baldy Peak at 8378'. Baldy is set atop Mount Livermore, which is considered its own summit.

I was informed that Baldy Peak was on land owned by the Nature Conservancy. They had an office just down the road in Fort Davis. Luckily, Luckily, and thanks to the kind folks at that TNC office, I was able to join an excursion for the next day.

It was almost too easy. After arriving at the TNC property, I followed two other cars up the rough dirt road for a few miles. Then, when we came to a patch that my car couldn't handle, I parked and then got a lift in one of the other cars.

We parked a down the road from the summit. The two other groups went their own ways, and I set off for the summit alone.

It ended up being a hike of just 3 miles RT with about 1000' of gain, almost all of it on a rough fire roads, parts of which were a bit steep. It took two hours total, with 15-30 minutes up top. Getting to the top is a lot easier than the first photo might imply.

On the opposite side it just involves a short easy stretch of 3rd class. The only exposure would come if you got off route, which might be possible if you don't take note of the way you came up.

Posted at 10:37 PM | Comments (0)

Touring the forts

On the way to Fort Stockton, I decided to stop at Fort Lancaster State Park, which houses a fort used to defend against Comanche raids and protect travelers from San Antonio to El Paso. That's located on a 20 or so mile bypass highway that runs from the 10, through the dumpy town of Sheffield, and back to the 10. Before Sheffield, I rounded a bend and saw my first glimpse of how this part of Texas is not in anyway like the areas around Dallas, Austin or San Antonio. There in front of me was a gully a few hundred feet high. Certainly, even some of the gullies in the Verdugos are deeper, but this was a bit of a shock. The road runs around the lip of the gully, and I was thinking it would a chance for some good, quick exercise to climb from the fort to the road and back. However, the gully - like most of the land in Texas - is privately owned, and that wasn't possible.

The fort is fairly interesting, despite the fact that all of the buildings are now just rubble. The plaques discussed how lonely and boring it was to be stationed out here. It'd be boring and lonely even today, and one can only imagine what it would be like over a hundred years ago.

Posted at 10:24 PM | Comments (0)

The Caverns of Sonora

On November 19 I found myself driving through Sonora Texas, and I decided to take a tour of the Caverns of Sonora. I'd never been in a cave before. I was under an overhang in Missouri, but that's not the same thing. I've wanted to climb Guadalupe Peak - TX's highest point - for a few years, and in preparation I'd read up on the nearby Carlsbad Caverns. They seemed quite interesting, but at the same time I was worried about claustrophobia. Also, I was worried about earthquakes. Most people, myself included, who've lived in Los Angeles for a while become accustomed to earthquakes and become even blase about them. However, the last thing I want is to experience an earthquake underground. So, even if an area doesn't have active faults, I was thinking that would be something I'd be constantly worried about. In the Navy, those who volunteer for submarine duty are subjected to various tests to determine that they won't freak out underwater; I don't think I'd make the grade.

Despite that, I didn't sense any concern when descending into the cave. Perhaps that's because it was mainly a walk along a concrete path with a few stairs here and there. I felt quite safe, like I was in an underground mall rather than in natural formation. Whether I'd have the same feeling in a wild cave that didn't have any light fixtures on the walls is another matter entirely.

As for the caverns, they were certainly interesting, although having never been in a cave before, I don't have anything to compare them with. They don't appear to be as deep as the various caves in Carlsbad, but they certainly are attractive. They have the only known butterfly formation, which can be seen in the left photo here.

This was a guided tour with just me and an expatriot British couple and their baby. The baby would occasionally cry, which was not exactly the best situation, but I was able to enjoy the 1 or 2 mile walk nonetheless.

There's an above-ground gift shop and flyers for the cave are available in motels, restaurants, and all the other places in the area. In keeping with that theme, I thought this was just a tourist trap and that the guide was just a relative or something. However, it turned out that he was an avid and experienced caver, and he provided me with much useful information. So, if you're in the area, I'd suggest checking it out.

Posted at 11:39 PM | Comments (1)

Fuck the rock

After S.A., I was going to go to Enchanted Rock State Park, which is located in Texas' "Hill" Country north of Fredericksburg. The greatest elevation hike there is 400' to the top of the rock, and that appears to be the most difficult hike within hours of Austin, Dallas, or San Antonio. Just for comparison, the tourist trail that goes from the Griffith Park Observatory to Mount Hollywood has a gain of about 500', and that's one of the easiest hikes in Los Angeles unless you walk along the seashore.

I drove into Fredericksburg just as it was getting dark. I decided against driving up to the park to find a camping spot, because this is its busy time of year, no one answered their phone, and it was a 40 mile round trip.

Fredericksburg is a bit like the dumpy, Texas equivalent of Solvang, but with a German theme instead of Dutch. The local supermarket looked a bit more upper scale than usual, and it had a few well-dressed members of the hilled gentry doing their shopping. A few people there, including those at the local Subway, and a dumpy local gas station looked at me even more strangely than usual; perhaps they aren't used to hiker-types or something. The Subway had a sign "Restrooms for customers only." I was considering being a customer when I walked in and used the restroom; when I exited the facilities and got a strange look from the guy behind the counter, I decided not to be a customer. Nevertheless, I let him put on his plastic gloves and looked at the menu a but while I conducted one of my usual interrogations. Then, after noticing that their prices were about 10% higher than Subways elsewhere I excused myself. But before I left I milked a few questions out of him. I learned to my amused bemusement that Fredericksburg has its own racetrack. Strangely enough, there was a Nascar store in Wilmington, Delaware, but I hadn't seen too much Nascar stuff since I got into Texas. Had I finally found the Nascar culture in Texas? No, it was horse racing, with parimutual betting even.

Unfortunately, the Fredericksburg KOA was about to close, their tenting area was under renovation, and they didn't want after-hours tent campers. So, I looked for something else. Unfortunately, the Lady Bird Johnson City Park's tenting area was just a big bare field across an access road from a small group of RVs. It didn't look too safe or appetizing. I then drove to the Kerrville KOA, but it wasn't much better: the only camping area was separated from a small highway by a wooden fence. That KOA is basically just for RVs.

So, saying "fuck the rock," I kept driving and pulled into the Junction KOA 50 miles down the freeway. Their tenting area sounded good in KOA's brochure: tent sites right next to the Llano river. However, there was no night registration for those sites, and signs directed me to set up my tent in a field next to a basketball court to avoid disturbing those who had the foresight to register earlier. In the morning there was a layer of frost on the tent; I was lucky enough to experience that area's first frost of the season. The owner there seemed to be a bit sharper than other KOA owners, and suggested I check out the Caverns of Sonora, which will be covered in the next installment.

Somewhere before Junction I left the greenery of the past two-plus months behind, and entered the southwestern desert environment. I didn't notice it at night, but in the morning it was a bit of a shock. Since leaving Colorado in early September, I had been in areas with more or less abundant rainfall, and it was quite a change to be in the dry, high, wide-open desert of the Southwest. It wasn't an entirely unwelcome change. Even though it's nice to be surrounded with greenery, I felt a bit more at home here.

Posted at 11:38 PM | Comments (1)

Remember the Alamo

[I visited San Antonio on November 17, this entry is just catching up.]

I had trouble finding anyone who'd say anything bad about San Antonio. They'd say bad things about Houston or Dallas or Hobbs, NM, but not about S.A. And to a fairly good extent that's justified. It's a bit sleepy, and it's basically a small town surrounded by a humungous suburban ring and some Army and Air Force bases. However, it has its own charms and attractions. The city of S.A. actually has more people than the City of Dallas, however, the DFW googleplex is probably a few times larger, and it's definitely a lot busier.

S.A. has the River Walk, which is quite attractive, however, the part of the River Walk where all the stuff is unfortunately just a series of restaurants and bars. There aren't, for instance, book stores, or museums, or other free types of things. They haven't built a Wal*Mart down by the river yet, but it would be nice to have non-commercial areas. Despite all that, the River Walk is definitely worth seeing.

San Antonio is a Hispanic-majority city: 55% Hispanic, 35% white, 7% black. It's had that same proportions for a few decades; apparently there wasn't a white flight as in, say, Los Angeles. There doesn't appear to be the same degree of racial conflict as there is in Los Angeles either. I made a few attempts to compare and contrast the two cities by questioning a few people.

My comparing and contrasting invoked the ire of a worker at the Institute of Texan Cultures, which operates a museum showcasing each of the cultures who established Texas. He accused me of observer bias, finding conflicts because I'm expecting to find them. Well, no, it's just that I've lived in Los Angeles for many years. He attempted to leave me with a parting zinger. Unfortunately, the zinger ain't got no zing because I've forgotten what he said and I couldn't figure out what he was getting at when he said it.

According to the Institute's brochure, "[o]perating on the premise that people are stronger citizens when they know more about themselves and each other, the Institute provides a forum for understanding culture and history and symbolizes the state's strength in diversity." Despite that, the Museum isn't as bad as it sounds. But, perhaps that's not so much a matter of desire as the fact that they aren't competent enough to pull off the full Tranzi PC treatment. However, it doesn't appear there's a concerted State effort to make people get along. In L.A., one can imagine all the State propaganda which there is and will be to get people to stop shooting each other. But, apparently, that's not that necessary in S.A., although I didn't go into schools or government buildings to check that out.

In any case, the museum is a bit long in the tooth, as it was first created for the 1968 World's Fair. It isn't such a great place to see unless you're a decendent of one of the residents of Texas. The World's Fair was held in the HemisFair Plaza which is home not only to the Institute but to the Tower of the Americas. That rises 750' above the flatlands. The ribs of the tower look a bit like those on the Devil's Tower in Wyoming. Unfortunately, I would have had to pay $4 and, to add insult to injury, I couldn't take the stairs up, I had to take the elevator. I decided against it. If I'd waited until the next Saturday, I could have taken part in a race to the top during which you were allowed to use the stairs, but that was still a few days away.

The museum's only obviously objectionable exhibit was an oferta to people who had died from domestic violence. Needless to say, all the victims were women, and the perpetrators were men. There were several books there with anti-male titles. It had, however, been relegated to the basement.

In a few brief spins around S.A., I didn't see too many things reminiscent of the situation in L.A. For instance, in L.A. one can see wall murals saying things like "Who's the minority now?" Maybe there are things like that in S.A., but I didn't see them. People seem to get along. Rather than having surly, unassimilatable new "immigrants" and angry older immigrants, most of the residents have been there a while, and Tejanos fought alongside "Anglos" at the Alamo. According to a film at the Alamo's museum, Chicanos have held protests there. However, I was told I'd have to wait a long time for the next protest. According to a couple people, Mecha-style sentiments don't go over too well here; not too many people in S.A. want to be part of Mexico. I don't think Cruz Bustamante, Antonio Villaraigosa, and Gil Cedillo would be quite as popular there as they are in California. However, San Antonio does have its own version, state Senator Leticia Van de Putte.

One bit problem with S.A. is there don't appear to be too many small funky neighborhoods like you find in Chicago or L.A. Even Dallas has more distinct neighborhoods near the central core. The southside of S.A. is largely Hispanic, and the other areas are less so. Unlike L.A., there appear to be many middle class Hispanics in the suburbs. The suburbs are full of the standard assortment of fast food restaurants and big box stores; one can drive around the 410 loop and spot a Wal*Mart every few miles. However, my impression of S.A. as a small central core surrounded by featureless suburbs and military bases might be because the visitor center didn't have a good map.

I visited a few of the missions: Concepcion, San Jose, and San Juan. As in most of the rest of Texas, the people at the tourist information bureau were basically map distributors. They were helpful, but they really didn't know that much. The older guy with the white beard at the tourist booth in Ellsworth Maine was a former CSULA geography professor. He not only was on the same wavelength as I, he had traveled around Maine, and he knew what was going on. Many of the people who work at tourist booths in Texas and elsewhere are a) incapable of having their receivers even approach my wavelength, and b) don't exactly seem like inveterate explorers who want to find out what's around the next bend. Most of them aren't exactly the enquiring type. So, like I said, the ladies at the tourist booth wanted to help, but couldn't. They didn't even have a detailed street map, like I'd received in Dallas or Austin (the Dallas street map requires three hands to hold). The fact that I only had a detailed map of the downtown area and a large scale, one page map covering a twenty mile area worked against my attempts to find specific neighborhoods of interest.

S.A. is a little more rolling than Austin, and I even saw a 50', gently sloped bluff. In L.A., of course, one can see bluffs several times that, and areas like Mount Washington or the Hollywood Hills rising hundreds of feet from the surrounding areas. There are no big mountains, or even moderate hills anywhere near S.A.

I stopped in at the San Antonio River Authority, and tried to get information on any studies comparing our river with theirs, but the guy who does that was out to lunch. The south end of the river, down where the missions are, looks a bit more like the L.A. River, minus our river's omnipresent graffitti and garbage. I saw a few people at the Espada Dam picking up what small amount of trash there was. As in L.A., they hold a river cleanup each year, but I'd imagine that they take away a lot less than is taken away in L.A. Understandably, S.A. residents are more concerned about their river than Angelenos, some of whom don't even know there's an L.A. River or may never have seen it.

I saw several pretty, upper scale Tejanas, and despite the flatness of the area, I think this area deserves a deep, penetrating analysis, like the one I failed to do in Maine.

Posted at 11:27 PM | Comments (1)

Flyover Multiculturalists

caption: "Latin American Woman"

A typical European

While considering a trip to Houston, I began asking myself, "Is Houston truly a multicultural city? Does it celebrate its diversity every chance it gets?"

The answer came in the form of the glossy, 62-page 'Greater Houston Multi Cultural Guide' produced by the Greater Houston Convention and Visitors Bureau.

According to the 'LeTTER FRoM MaYOR' printed therein, "Houston is built on a tradition of diversity..."

According to the 'LeTTER FRoM CoUNTY JuDGE,' "On behalf of the citizens of Harris County, I welcome you to our colorful community... I hope you take some time to not only embrace your own culture, but experience one of the many others that thrive here... ...everywhere you look, we have incorporated diversity in all parts of life here... Faces of every color live, work and play here."

The rest of the brochure consists of various photos of their diverse, multicultural citizenry celebrating their diversity in a most multicultural way. The text is poorly written, perhaps because the author had a quota to fill. Seemingly each paragraph must contain at least one instance of either "multicultural" or "diverse."

After paging through the brochure, someone who's not familiar with Houston or the U.S. might wonder exactly where Houston is and who it belongs to. Is it some island country, where diverse peoples from multicultural backgrounds have come for their own personal or group-related reasons?

The brochure is divided into five sections: 'AFRiCA,' 'AMERiCAS & the iSLANDS,' 'ASiA & MiDDLE EaST,' 'EuROPE,' and 'OF GENERAL INTEREST.' Much like a zoo or Wild Safari might divide its brochure into sections depending on where their animals came from.

For this is basically a zoo brochure. One can simply observe these different cultures, or, like a petting zoo, one can actually interact with the different cultures. But, as a Patagonian Cavy and a Sumatran Tiger are put in separate cages, so too are Houston's diverse, multicultural population.

In the same way that Britney Spears imitators show just how bad she is, Houston's attempts to push multiculturalism show the abject bankruptcy of that ideology. If Los Angeles made a brochure like this, it would be much worse, but it would also be slicker and more subtle. Houston's brochure makes multiculturalism's flaws apparent to all.

The overall theme is one of separatism and division. There is nothing in the brochure about common goals or dreams. These are separate groups pursuing their own agendas.

There are a few American flags in the brochure, but America is presented as just another display. If I didn't see the words "Space City USA" I would wonder what country Houston is a part of.

Houston becomes not a melting pot of people from around the world, but a segregated display. Which is perhaps the way the town's elders want it.

Posted at 11:15 AM | Comments (0)

Your tax dollars at work, Part 2

[I visited the former Branch Davidian compound outside Waco on November 11, this entry is just catching up.]

Posted at 08:29 PM | Comments (0)

Wonderful Waco, Part 2

[I visited Waco on November 11, this entry is just catching up.]

After my bike ride, I went to the Cameron Park Zoo, which, for a smaller town, is much better than the zoo in Indy. Everything about this zoo was better, with the exception that they didn't have a polar bear. They had several interesting snakes, a couple of exotic turtles, a poisonous newt, a school of piranhas, and the interesting animals pictured above.

The first is a Capybara, the world's largest rodent, which can tip the scales at up to 150 pounds.

The next is a Patagonian Cavy. I found this to be a quite attractive animal. Some say it looks a bit like the mythical jackalope. Unfortunately, to get a good look at it one would need to see it standing up; it had sat down by the time I got my camera out.

The last is a Sumatran Tiger. 'Nuff said.

After the zoo, I drove past the Dr. Pepper Museum. I couldn't really remember what it tasted like, so I bought some at a gas station to refresh my memory. It's not that horribly bad, and I could have gotten some if I'd taken the museum's tour. But, most likely I would have had to pay money and spend time, and it wasn't that much of interest. But, don't feel bad Dr. Pepper, as back in West Virginia I had driven right past the Mountain Dew museum as well.

Then, I drove outside of Waco to the former Branch Davidian compound.

Posted at 08:23 PM | Comments (0)

Wonderful Waco, Part 1

[I visited Waco on November 11, this entry is just catching up.]

Mention "Waco," and you know what everyone thinks of. This is despite the fact that the Branch Davidian compound was actually located about a dozen miles outside Waco in Mount Carmel. If not for the regrettable incident that took place there so long ago, Waco would just be a small, sleepy farm city with Kansas-style wide, open streets. It makes a convenient highway stop as it's midway between Dallas and Austin. It's also home to the Baptist university Baylor.

I decided to skip a tour of Baylor, and concentrate on doing a bit of mountain biking, visiting the zoo, and taking some pictures at the compound which, surprisingly enough, had been razed to the ground just one month after the unfortunate incident had taken place.

I did the mountain biking in Cameron Park, which has some pretty interesting trails. The park is set along the Brazos River, and it rises to some small bluffs. The maximum elevation gain between the bottom and the top of the park is probably only 100 feet or so, however many of the trails are well beyond my technical skills.

Obviously, this is not the San Gabriels, but then again all the trails are single-track with nary a fire road in sight. Some of the trails are steep, and many are rocky or filled with tree roots. Some are marked on the map with double black diamonds; I don't doubt that that's accurate.

I started out in the Lover's Leap area, and biked down to the River Trail. I had to walk the bike down one section that was particularly steep. I kept biking until I got to a set of steep stairs. Thinking I could quickly regain some elevation, I carried the bike up the stairs which, given the occasional high rises and narrow steps and the fact that they were a bit slick, was a little difficult. When I got to the top, I found out that it was difficult to get from there back to my starting point, so I ended up carrying the bike back down the stairs. It's all good exercise, right? I biked back up the River Trail and went past the point where I came down. On the left were some interesting small cliff faces. Climbing them didn't look too appetizing; they looked like they'd melt in my hands. I returned back to the starting point mostly on the bike. Christian of txdb.net was there shooting a music video with some other Baylor students, and he was lucky enough to meet the Lonewacko.

Posted at 08:15 PM | Comments (1)

Someone here knows something...

[I visited Dallas around November 10; the shot above shows the Grassy Knoll.]

A couple blocks from Dealey Plaza is the Conspiracy Museum. Flyers for it are available at the visitor's center, which is almost unmarked. The museum has exhibits on JFK, as well as a UFO display in the basement. The guy there was taciturn and unfriendly. He let someone in from the Dallas Morning News in for free, and I asked him if there was free admission for media members. He didn't answer that question, but apparently a lot of newsies and celebrities have been there. The only one he could name was Richard Belzer.

I decided not to enter for various reasons but mostly because it cost $7. And, to be truthful, all of my dollar bills were from change I'd gotten after getting cash-back somewhere, and, well... The museum appears to be for real, at least on the surface. I got a kind of creepy feeling from the museum. I'm not saying nothin', but, what better way could there be to keep tab on strange people who hold unconventional views than by starting a museum?

I decided not to go to the more official Sixth Floor Museum (official site: jfk.org), despite the fact that it's the "Most Visited Historic Site in North Texas." It cost too much, and you couldn't shoot pictures due to fears about copyright infringement. Does that even include shooting through the famous 6th floor window? Yes it does. They occasionally give permission to the real media, however.

Say, did you know that no one - not even the most famous U.S. sniper - was able to duplicate Lee Harvey Oswald's three shots in 5.6 seconds? I'm not sayin' nothin', just linking.

Posted at 07:35 PM | Comments (0)

Old timey Dallas

[I visited Dallas around November 10, this entry is just catching up.]

I rode the streetcar a bit through The Historic Uptown Section of Dallas. Apparently, this used to be a rundown section of the city until a group of civic-minded folks (no doubt including real estate developers) decided to revive the streetcars. Since then, property values have skyrocketed, downtown commuters have moved in, and new buildings and shopping centers have been built.

This is apparently in line with Dallasites' obsession with improvement. Nothing can be left well enough alone, it must be cleaned up and, when necessary, old buildings must be torn down to make way for the new.

One of the streetcar workers (not the gent above) reiterated what I had heard before: in order to find King of the Hill-type settings and people, I need to go looking for pockets. He indicated a few places to look, but I just might head south to Waco or Austin instead and leave that to other KOTH fans. He also gave a good impersonation of Hank Hill, and mentioned that he, like Hank and friends, used to hang out in an alley and drink beer in those same areas.

I didn't even bother to try to connect to the wireless at The Mansion On Turtle Creek. While I was able to impersonate a guest at the Irving Holiday Inn Select, I think I'd be spotted immediately for the indigent that I am at that place.

Posted at 10:32 PM | Comments (0)

Trying to get high in Dallas

[I visited Dallas around November 10, this entry is just catching up.]

There are nice people in Dallas, and there are also assholes. Just like any other big city. Some of the assholes here however have a particular talent for soul-sucking. One would wish to pay actual money not to have run into these people. Unlike the assholes in Indy, who weren't quite adept, the assholes of the Big D seem to have the knack. As if Dallas was a Mecca for soul-sucking assholes.

So, anyway, on a completely different topic, I went in search of some place in Dallas where there's some elevation gain. I had to stay there until Monday, and I might as well give it a chance. It's just that betwen trying to get some work done, and the general process of having to go one place and then another, driving 10 miles this way and 10 miles that, it's a bit difficult. I never thought I'd see a place more sprawled all over the countryside than L.A., but DFW is indeed that place.

So, I tried to find a place where I could find some elevation change. Based on beta supplied by two separate people, I went to the Camp Wisdom Boy Scout camp.

There was no one at the front office of the camp, so I started wandering around until I found a building a short distance from the office where I thought someone might be. It looked empty until I got closer and saw seated heads inside. Someone apparently saw my approach, and unlocked a door near me. He got a little too close to my face for comfort and then backed down after I asked about public access and then was told that there was no such thing there. He told me that, contrary to what I'd heard, there were no rocks or much elevation gain there.

Perhaps I'd interrupted an indoctrination meeting of some kind. The mock highway sign on the way to the camp said "Character under construction." Inside the camp house there were hunting magazines advertising the Charlton Heston Saturday Night Special, or some such. There was also a sign "Free! Take One!" over a full stack of H. Ross Perot books.

Then I went to Ceder Hill State Park. The trails were closed for both hiking and biking due to recent rain. The toad-like gent at the gate wasn't any help at all. The answer to my question about the highest elevation in the park was answered with: "5280'." Ha ha, boy was that funny. I asked to see a ranger. "He wants to speak to a ranger," he said off to the side of the booth. The ranger acted a bit sheepish and stunned, as if he were under the sway of the powerful personality of the gatekeeper. Most rangers I've met don't have a Gomer Pyle air about them. I asked to see a topo map of the park. None was available.

I get the feeling that Cedar Hill State Park is more for the RVing and picnicing crowd. Even though they have a specially designed mountain biking trail, I don't think the people there are like, say, backcountry rangers in Alaska. The conversation soon switched to a discussion of county highpoints. The gatekeeper asked what was the highest California highpoint I'd gotten, and I sheepishly admitted that that would be San Jacinto Peak, and that I hadn't gotten Mount Whitney. "Oh, I walked up that one." Oh boy, the jokes just kept on a-comin', Ah tell ya whut. Bottom line: pancakes, at even a global level, are more topographically varied than the Big, Flat D. If you want a challenging hike near Dallas, prepare for a challenging drive and buy a guidebook rather than asking the people who should know something but don't. And, don't wear your Goretex jacket, shorts and hiking boots around Dallas unless you want strange looks.

Posted at 10:26 PM | Comments (0)

Dallas ex machina

[I visited Dallas around November 10; the shot above shows the Grassy Knoll.]

It's not like Dallas sprung up out of nowhere, it just feels that way to a very great extent. Everything you need to know about Dallas you probably already know: Dealey Plaza, J.R. Ewing, and the Dallas Cowboys. Texas Stadium is partially domed (OK, for my thesis to hold it would have to be fully domed, but play along), they play on Astroturf, and, if you wanted to create from scratch a plastic sports team you'd never do better than what developed naturally. Think Jerry Jones and Jimmy Johnson, sparkling clean sports uniforms and murderous cheerleader moms. Throw in massive sprawling suburbs with everything and nothing, and you don't need to know much more.

The Deep Ellum (as in "Elm" pronounced by semi-literates) section of town is somewhat of a Bohemian section, but there didn't appear to be too many wackos there. I didn't check it out at night, but I'd imagine it's just a party section. Supposedly, those from the southern reaches of Dallas occasionally go there spoiling for a fight. Deep Elm/Ellum is currently undergoing gentrification, but the movers and shakers there apparently haven't moved on to the next big area. The gentrification appears to be part of the Dallas culture. They appear unable to leave well enough alone, it must be painted over and modernized. Some of Dallas' short history is preserved, but some of it has also been cemented over. Everything must be clean and modern and well-ordered, lest it interfere with the uptight, rush-rush atmosphere.

Supposedly, Fort Worth is much more laidback. There, according to a source, you might find an expensive hotel next to a vacant lot. But, in Dallas, the vacant lot would be immediately paved over to make it look acceptable.

Posted at 10:19 PM | Comments (0)

Welcome from the left side of the bell curve

I am in Carlsbad. Carlsbad is a city in New Mexico. I like this town! Twenty thousand people live here. That is a lot. That is more than three times the number of people in Fort Stockton in Texas. Fort Stockton had an AOL access number.

There is no computer access here. "Cahm-pyoo-ter?"

Do you have a phone jack I can use? What kind of phone jack are you looking for? What kind of phone? Just a regular phone. (Yeah, that's it, just a regular phone. No sense confusing the issue. Give them something they can understand. I'll save the tutorial for later.) I want to plug my phone into a jack. Do you have a jack I can use? Well, Wal*Mart... No, I want to plug into a phone jack. [making frantic copulation gestures] I need a phone line. I need to plug into a phone line. Well, Wal*Mart... I NEED TO PLUG INTO A FUCKING ESTABLISHED PHONE LINE THAT'S ALREADY IN THE WALL AND HAS A DIALTONE YOU DUMBFUCK.

AOL does not have an access number here. There is no Kinko's here. There is no WiFi here. The interstate is miles and miles and miles away. This town is near two national parks. This town is near many other outdoor recreation areas. This town has no hiking-type outdoors stores. The entrance to the local mall just says "Mall" over the entrance.

More than twenty-thousand people visited Carlsbad Caverns in 10/03. There are twenty-thousand residents. AOL does not have an access number. That is a clue.

The people here are nice! The guy at the Radio Shack knew what WiFi is. The two librarians knew something too. The guy at the office store kindly let me use his phone jack. The guy at the pizza place wasn't a complete idiot.

Almost everyone else here is a complete idiot. They are not bad people. Just dumb. This is like a town where time stopped. The potash mines were big in the 1960s, and many of the buildings in this town were built then. Then, it stopped. This town is a goldmine of 50s and 60s architecture. There is nothing else in the mine. The ladies at the Visitor's Center have earned my "Less Than Useless" designation.

Oh! I forgot about WIPP! It's just 30 miles outside of this nice town. It brings jobs here. The people here like it. The people in Santa Fe do not like it.

I like Carlsbad!

Posted at 09:41 PM | Comments (0)

Back on the road, even if it was only for 80 miles

After Austin, I was hoping to find something to cleanse my palate. Providence and I met on the way to San Antonio when I saw the sign for the Snake Farm in New Braunfels. Unfortunately, it was closed.

San Antonio is a larger city than Austin, and there were a few people milling about its downtown area. However, I was unable to find cheap and safe parking, so I'll wait until tomorrow to check it out a bit before my big push to the west.

Posted at 08:25 PM | Comments (2)

Austin, Texas: A true cultural oasis

Lest you dismiss Austin as just a small city that's home to a cow college, let me rectify your misconceptions: Austin is truly a cultural mecca. Whether you're searching for a delicious repast or a world-class art gallery, Austin has it all.

Plus, it's the "Live Music Capital of the World." And, it has a bunch of bloggers, none of whom responded to my request for assistance, save for David Nunez. Hey, at least one fellow blogger offered to help, which is better than Boston or DC.

Other than those things, Austin has a few guys in cowboy hats, a few yuppies, a few hippies, a small number of bums, a large number of college students, a bunch of workers, a few euphuists, and not much else. In Austin, "highfalutin'" would be pronounced with the final "g;" otherwise the hearer might falsely assume that the speaker was some kind of uneducated hick like the people outside of Austin.

As for me, I prefer these kind of things straight up. If I want to see hippies or the rest, I can always drive to Berkeley and see the original version.

It's also flat. Anyone who's ever come to the "Hill" Country in search of hills should join a class action lawsuit against the Texas Convention and Visitor Bureau. Here's a hint: the ones in the foreground here are hills, and those in the back are mountains.

I'm now headed for San Antonio, perhaps via the Austin Rock Gym. In any case, I'm going to try to get to west Texas - home of Guadalupe Peak and Big Bend National Park - as fast as possible.

Posted at 02:18 PM | Comments (0)

I'm blogging live from Austin, Texas

I'm currently at a Boingo WiFi access point at Guadalupe and 41st. However, there's no foot traffic here, so I'm leaving in search of another place. Check back at around 2pm Central Time.

UPDATE: I'm now at Mojos Daily Grind at 2714 Guadalupe St. I'll be here until about 3:30pm or so.

UPDATE 2: There's not enough foot traffic here; I'm going to make my last attempt to do this at Quacks at 411 East 43rd Street. I'll update when I'm there.

UPDATE 3: Quacks, like the other places, is dead. Apparently the otherwise kind folks at the visitor center misunderstood me when I asked them to select a Boingo location with "lots of foot traffic." So, so much for Austin. See the next entry for my Austin summary.

Posted at 11:33 AM | Comments (0)

Your tax dollars at work

A shot from the former Branch Davidian compound outside Waco, Texas.

There's a plaque memorializing each of the people killed during the siege in 1993 under each of the trees shown above. Most of the trees aren't shown.

Posted at 09:48 PM | Comments (0)

Lonewacko is coming to Austin

I recently drove from L.A. to Maine, blogging all the way. Now I'm going back, and I'll be passing through Austin in a day or two.

I'd like to meet other bloggers and do interesting things. Despite driving thousands of miles through about 20 states, I haven't had much luck meeting other bloggers so far. A few have responded, but they were usually not on my route, or they didn't respond to follow-up emails.

Maybe Austin bloggers will be different, but, based on past experience I'm not going to hold my breath.

Contact me at abuse at tolstoy dot com. You can see a list of the ways in which I can be entertained here, and also see my run-ins with DC, Boston, and Chicago bloggers. Despite spending two whole days in Knoxville, TN, I was unable to get an audience with the Pope. Maybe I'll be able to do a "special project" in Austin that I didn't have time for in New Paltz, NY.

Posted at 08:36 AM | Comments (1)

The Man From Hot Springs Hope

Hope, Arkansas is a sleepy, slightly run-down community that has the standard assortment of fast food restaurants and gas stations, along with a small downtown section still awaiting redevelopment. There's very little Clinton-related stuff here: two of Clinton's boyhood homes, an eponymous middle school, and a boulevard named in his honor. One of the homes is now a museum, the other is in private hands. They used to have souvenir shops in the town selling Clinton-related merchandise, but they've since gone out of business. Unfortunately, tt was after dark when I visited, and the museum was closed.

The town was able to cash in on The Man From Hope for a while, but it didn't last. Which isn't perhaps too very surprising. First of all, he's not really The Man From Hope. Like most other things related to Clinton, his catchphrase is a bit of a lie.

While technically he is from Hope, his ties to and symbiosis with Hot Springs go much deeper. It would be much more accurate to call him "The Man From Hot Springs." However, as can be expected given the subject matter, accuracy loses out to what sounds better. Hope has a bit more of a nice small town vibe to it than Hot Springs ever could, so calling him The Man From Hope would also appear to be a bit of an insult to the town.

Posted at 08:32 PM | Comments (1)

The Crater of Dirt

I paid a brief visit to Crater of Diamonds State Park near Murfreesboro AR. It was a bit of a waste of time and money; I went there on the state highways and if I'd just gone from Hot Springs south along the interstate I could have saved myself at least an hour. The park is basically just a big field that looks like it's been plowed. As in fact it has, by thousands of visitors who come here looking for diamonds. For just the $5 entrance fee, you can go in and dig to your heart's content. You can even sluice the soil if you wish. The only thing you can't do is use motorized vehicles or diggers or have anything with wheels. If you dig a hole greater than 4', you need to either shore it up or give it sloped sides. And, once the day is done you need to fill in the hole.

As I was standing there reading their rules and regulations, I began thinking of how I could hack them. Perhaps I could hire a team of laborers and have them (after forcing them to sign 10 page legal documents) dig the biggest hole this place has ever seen all in one day. Maybe this is my big chance to strike it rich.

Large diamonds have been found there, including one that they paid $37000 for, and one that was even larger.

According to the ladies at the counter, the park does have regulars, but it doesn't get the same gambling junkies like you do in Las Vegas, where one can see old people who came there many years ago and still are trying to break the bank.

I got there with about an hour to go before they closed, otherwise I would have gone for it. I decided against camping there and trying to strike it rich in the morning, and I drove to Hope. I'll keep my gambling money for the slots in Vegas.

Posted at 08:23 PM | Comments (0)

Summarizing Bill Clinton

Pictured above is the headquarters for the Hot Springs Showmen's Association ("No Business Like Show Business"), a meeting hall/entertainment center for carnival folk. In a way, this place sums up Bill Clinton better than anything else could.

Ike was born in Texas and raised in Kansas; one can see how a state like Kansas (or even Texas) could give rise to someone like him. Likewise, one can see how a state like Arkansas - and especially a place like Hot Springs - could give rise to Bill Clinton, the anti-Ike.

Unfortunately, all of the carnivals have shut down for the "winter." The winter at that time was 80 degrees. The building appears to have been built back in the 60s, and the inside doesn't look like it's been redecorated since. It has dark wood panelling, a bar, a stage with a big sign "There's no people like show people" over it, and there's a creepy cardboard cutout of a clown in the front lobby. The walls in the lobby are filled with tributes to the deceased members and the large number of their deceased presidents.

The front door was open, but there weren't any cars out front or in the parking lot. I thought it might be a trap, and I was going to end up being shanghaied or worse by a group of carnival freaks. The only person there was a cleaning guy who looked like an old carnie. He said someone would be there around 2pm. Since that was an hour away, I decided to go check out the alligator farm down the street first. See the entry a couple back.

After the alligator farm, I came back. Despite waiting until 2:30, no one else showed up, and I somewhat reluctantly decided to hit the road. (Did the carnival guy there deceive me? No! It can't be true!) It would have been great to have gotten permission to shoot on the inside. I think that would sum up Hot Springs - and Bill Clinton - much better than mere words. So, you'll just have to imagine what the place was like. This guy apparently lives in AR, and he can't raise anyone there either.

Posted at 12:26 PM | Comments (2)

Rasslin' 'gators

I paid a brief visit to the Arkansas Alligator Farm, which is home to the "Merman." I wouldn't go there for the Merman. It's an obvious fake, especially with the hair. However, if you like alligators, it's got a lot of them.

Unfortunately, alligators start shutting down in November, and when I visited all of them were fast asleep. A few of the young ones would occasionally move a bit, but the larger ones were lost in deep slumber.

The spider monkey there scared the shit out of me, trying to imagine that I'm distantly related to that thing, as it stretched its hands out for the bread in my hand like one of the beggars on the streets of this mean little hole. Supposedly, FDR toured the farm and Bubba toured when he was governor.

Posted at 12:14 PM | Comments (0)

Hot Springs "National Park"

The Hot Springs National Park is probably the least worthwhile National Park I've ever seen and could ever imagine. As I told the people at the visitor center, I have trouble caring. After having toured the Fordyce Manor, I have even more trouble caring. So, they used to rub mercury on peoples' genitals in an attempt to cure syphillis. So what? At the most, this should be a state historical park, and not a National Park absorbing tax dollars from people in faraway states. A worthy project would be to strip this place of its National Park designation. I can understand how someone who lives in Arkansas would support the Gates of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, even if they never visit there. But, I can't understand how anyone who lives in Alaska, California, New York, or even elsewhere in the South would want to support the preservation of bathhouses and quackery. (Although, to be fair, the cures there were supposedly not considered quackery at the time, they were considered state of the art for the time.)

Aren't we setting the bar a bit low here? What are we going to have 100 years from now? The L. Ron Hubbard National Park? The Wal*Mart National Historical Site?

A small part of the problem for me is, frankly, the thought that this was basically a place just for the rich. However, that is apparently not correct; the bath houses weren't just for rich people. Down the street from the Fordyce was one that catered to working people. There was even a nationally-run bath house for indigents. [Just like in Russia --ed.] Taking the baths there was considered beneficial to the greater good.

There are still a few operating bath houses here, it costs around $20 to take a bath. At Fordyce, it was $2.30 in 1965 for a bath; that would be in line with the current price.

Pictured above is a bath that people were lowered into. The sign mentions the bit about mercury. See this page for more information on the park and other tourist traps there.

Seriously, why? I've been to several National Parks across the country, and I am still puzzled how anyone could think this place is even remotely in the same league as the Grand Canyon, Zion, or even something relatively small and insignificant like Bryce.

Posted at 12:08 PM | Comments (0)

I didn't post the last entry

AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION OUTSIDE OF ARKANSAS - I'm still trying to figure out what happened. All I know is I was driving through Arkansas and asking people a bunch of questions. Sure, I might have asked the wrong person the wrong question, but, people are free to ask questions, right?

Apparently, someone hacked my site and was trying to set me up for God knows what.

Thankfully, I'm across the border now. Unfortunately however, I didn't save the earlier post in which I discussed the general feeling I got that Arkansas was the most corrupt and sleazy state I've yet visited (Delaware and New Jersey included). Speaking about New Jersey, if NJ is America's Armpit, then Arkansas is America's uninvited parasite.

I didn't get a chance to visit Mena or do any extensive digging, but I will have more to say about Hot Springs and Hope later.

Posted at 09:13 AM | Comments (0)

My depression is just getting worse and worse

I've been very depressed lately. There are various reasons for it. I think I've handled it fairly well, but it's probably become a bit evident on this blog that there's a problem.

A lot of things seem to have come to a head lately. First, no other bloggers want to meet me on my travels. And, I just found out that LunaNina doesn't live in Texas like I thought, and I actually drove through her area a couple weeks ago. And, I feel quite a bit like a fish out of water here in the South. Another reason I'm depressed is that I've spent a lot of money on this trip, and I haven't really got a lot out of it. Some of those expenses have really taken their toll. For instance, I had a brake job done in Maine and not only did that cost a bit of money, now I'm beginning to doubt that they did even a slightly passable job because the brakes on my car seem to be having big problems lately.

I'm very depressed and despondent, and I don't know what I'm going to do.

Even hiking - one of my favorite activities - doesn't bring me much joy any more. I realize it's a bit foolish to hike during hunting season, and I don't even have an orange vest or anything, but I need to keep hiking in order to try in vain to chase the blues away. Part of me knows I should go to Wal*Mart and get an orange vest, but the rest of me doesn't care anymore.

This blog is depressing me as well. I don't know if I'm going to keep blogging. I might stop blogging tomorrow. If you never hear from me again, perhaps it's for the best.

(I'd also like to send a personal message to my lawyer and to Melrose Larry Green: if that email I sent to you did go through, I want to make it clear that I've since changed my mind. Everything I wrote about in that email regarding Arkansas and the Clintons was completely false, and I wrote it in the pits of my depression. I really didn't know what I was writing.

Also, if anybody saw the post that used to be in this space, I want to stress that I deleted that post because it was all completely false. Corruption does not grow here "like the scrawny weeds by the side of the highway." This state does not need a thorough "bush hogging" in order to get rid of rampant sleaze and corruption. Sleaze does not "hang heavy in the air here like the 80% humidity on 80 degree days." All those statements were false. Arkansas is the most corruption-free state in the union. And, to answer the "joke" I posted earlier, you get one of the most beautiful and talented young ladies in America today, and words like "sleazy" and "corrupt" are relative.

Contrary to what I wrote in my earlier post, I'm not going to Mena. I'm a "happy features" blogger, just like my idol Huell Howser. I am not an investigative reporter. What was I thinking, I wonder!

Further, I provided this link out of a mistaken belief that it might have some truth. I've since discovered it for the paranoid rantings of a lunatic that they are.

Also, if you're one of the people that I spoke with while I was in Arkansas, please get in touch with me immediately. I'd like to apologize for wasting your time with my pesky questions about things no one cares about and with my factually incorrect imaginings. Even if I spoke with you about something that seemed at the time to be insignificant, please get in touch ASAP. If I sent you an email, a letter, a package, or telephoned you, or otherwise communicated with you in any fashion whatsoever, please get in touch as well. It's very important that you send me an email so I can apologize. Also, please get in touch if you saw the earlier post that I've since deleted. I want to apologize to each and every one of you personally.)

Posted at 09:28 PM | Comments (2)

Hot Springs, epicenter of Bubba

After the Arkansas highpoint, I took the 10 to the 7 south to Hot Springs. It looks like a bit of a straight shot on the map, but in practice it's a rather difficult road with enough blind rises, blind curves, and 180 degree turns that it demands your complete attention. It doesn't use as much gas as the roads near Grayson Highlands State Park in VA, but it's still not an interstate. Perhaps I should have taken the freeway route, although it probably would have taken longer. However, at least unlike some other states (I'm looking at you, Massachusetts), the roads here are fairly well marked, and I had no navigational problems getting to the park and then getting to Hot Springs.

Hot Springs is a sleazy little spa town that oozes sleaze from every pore of its emaciated little body. Yes, I said "sleazy" twice, but I could have said it a third time and the characterization still would be too light. I wonder how many Bubba lionizations in the mainstream press gave an accurate portrayal of this little hole. One can easily see how someone like Bubba thrived in a town like this.

Hot Springs even has its own fairly large ghetto which is a bit surprising for a little town that not only has just 35,000 residents, but also has its own National Park. Just down the street from the National Park at Central and Grand is an area slightly reminiscent of some of the areas around LAX. That is to say you have thugs with prison tats queueing up to use the payphones, while tourists and families scurry by in a hurry to get back to their in-town motel rooms. I'd like to see this town during the day, otherwise I'd get out of here as quick as speed limits allow.

Posted at 09:15 PM | Comments (0)

It was wrong on both sides of the sign

Pictures from a church on AR10 east of Havana.

Posted at 09:09 PM | Comments (0)

The Absolute High Point of Arkansas

Earlier today, I biked/hiked to the high point in Arkansas, Signal Hill in Mt. Magazine State Park. In comparison to some of the other southern highpoints I've done on this trip, it's not that difficult to find or to get to, as long as you don't mind driving 40 or 50 miles along backroads.

A road appropriately named Circle Road runs around the high point, and a short trail bisects the circle road, heading to and from the highpoint. To make things slightly more interesting, I pushed the bike up and down the trail, and then when I got back to the road, I biked a semi-circle back to the starting point. It was pretty short and easy. It would have been nice to bike up and down the trail, but that's not allowed, and ethics is what we do when people aren't watching. As they say.

There were more difficult options, but due to timing and the possibility of thunderstorms later in the day, I decided not to do them. I could have gained 2000' to get to the highpoint, but I would have had to have hiked 18 miles round trip in order to get the same gain I could get in much less distance elsewhere. That's on the Cove Lake trail; there are various access points on that trail, but except for the longest version, the parking areas are in remote locations, and I didn't feel that parking there would be a wise decision.

As on the highpoint of Virginia, there's no view from the highpoint. The second shot was taken near the site of the old lodge. That's also near the area where some rock climbing and hang-gliding takes place, but there was no one there partaking of those activities. I only saw one other person on the highpoint trail itself.

Posted at 09:01 PM | Comments (0)

I'm just going to wait here until they build it then

I really should have stayed in Memphis another day. Even during the day, Little Rock is a bit sleepy. The Clinton Library is still under construction, and won't be open until Fall 2004. That's it in the background. The display is located at the River Market in downtown.

I also tried to find the "little rock" that gave this city its name. I guess I did, because a picture at the park on the riverfront lines up with the rocks under one of the bridges there. Trust me, I've seen a lot of rocks, and this is nothing to drive out of your way for.

Posted at 08:12 PM | Comments (0)

I'm going to Graceland, Graceland, Memphis Tennessee

See, now you've got it constantly running through your mind too, and no amount of soothing Elvin music will erase the sound of the bad one out of Simon & Garfunkel.

I didn't take a tour of Graceland, or any of the other attractions. Maybe next time. I did watch the somewhat informative and entertaining video about Elvis' two planes which are on display at Graceland. It includes information on how they were moved there.

I signed my name on the wall outside Graceland, and I took a couple pictures of it. However, now I can't find those pictures. This has happened before; in KC I took several pictures of the brick buildings downtown, and in VA I took a few pictures of the ponies with Mt. Rogers in the background. None of those shots were on the card, and I guess I'm going to have to throw this card out, because I can't trust it anymore. So, you're just going to have to imagine that there's a third picture with: "Lonewacko.com Elvis Lives!"

I am indeed Elvis. Elvis Lives! Just as Elvis fired up his private jet at 1am to fly to Denver to get peanut butter sandwiches, I drove from L.A. to Vermont to get a new Green Mountain Club T-shirt.

Graceland is set in an area somewhat reminiscent of the nicer parts of Inglewood. It gets a bit worse further north, somewhat like heading east on Manchester. I guess Elvis had no interaction with his neighbors; he couldn't leave without an escort because there were people outside the gates 24/7.

The Mud Run in Memphis was closed for the season, which was quite unfortunate. It supposedly has rocks - real, goshdarned rocks - that one can walk on. Other than that, Memphis is pretty flat. The "bluffs" between Memphis and the Mississippi are gently-sloped, but too overgrown to walk through without bathing in DEET first.

I decided to spend the night in Little Rock, which was a mistake. As of 9:30pm on a Sunday night, the sidewalks there had been rolled up and neatly stacked in preparation for the week to come. I really should have stayed in Memphis.

Posted at 07:51 PM | Comments (0)

Buffaloed

Driving west on the 40, I intended to spend the night at the KOA in Buffalo, which is also the entry point for the Loretta Lynn Dude Ranch. While I knew the name "Loretta Lynn," I couldn't quite figure out which one she was. All I knew is that she was not Tanya Tucker. I eventually saw a display where they were selling a video of "Coal Miner's Daughter," and I saw her picture, so I knew who it was.

My first reaction after seeing the Loretta Lynn restaurant and its associated unincorporated city of Buffalo was "Jaysus, is she sick or something? Is she poor, or stupid, or just has no sense of how to create a tourist attraction?"

I always thought Loretta Lynn was a big, rich star. After seeing the city and the restaurant, I'm rethinking that. Make no mistake, Buffalo is a dump. And, it's not a dump in the dump-but-honest or dump-but-quaint fashion, it's just a dump. Most - but not all - of the small number of people I spoke with there were Not Nice. I hesitate to overuse the word "asshole" too much, lest it lose its meaning. Let's just say that "What do you need now?" is not the proper way to speak to a prospective customer. The manager lady at her restaurant was rude. I asked one of her employees "do people actually come here? Like, in tour buses?" She told me that they did, and she did so in a quiet fashion as if she didn't want her manager to overhear he speaking to a customer. The restaurant also has a small gift shop that sells hillbilly-related junk. For some strange reason outside her restaurant there's a moderately new tractor on exhibit. Actually, if not for the bricks holding it in place, one might think it was driven in. I guess it's a coal mine locomotive, although if it was meant as a display, it's the most piss-poor display I've seen this side of Prairie Dog Town.

Now, bear in mind that the town of Buffalo is just the first stop on the Loretta Lynn tour. She has a dude ranch further up the road that I didn't see. Maybe that's where she keeps the good stuff and the nice people. And, bear in mind that according to this message she's not the owner of the restaurant, although according to the manager she comes in there occasionally. And, bear this sympathetic article in mind.

In any case, perhaps these people were this way because it's the end of the tourist season. Or, maybe their thoughts of cashing in on the Loretta Lynn bonanza have come to naught. Or, they wanted to go home and didn't care about alienating visiting bloggers.

Whatever the reason for their attitudes, I'd suggest holding it, coasting at 35MPH, or doing whatever you have to do to get to the next stop down the road. Those with special needs should note that there's another XXX emporium further west on the 40. I didn't check that one out, and the one in Buffalo looked closed anyway.

I had earlier called the Buffalo KOA, and the lady I spoke with not only was a bit testy, she tried a bit of a sales job to get me to make a reservation. "We might have a church group come in at any moment, you never know." I decided not to make a reservation, and when I got there I found out they didn't take credit cards, or at least didn't allow them for night registration. So, al