Source Blog: atriptosaygoodbye.com
So as I sit here with my iPhone earpieces plugged in listening to my favorite car jams on I-40 somewhere in the Mohave high desert, I am pondering how to even begin this. I don’t think that I can completely do justice via prose the heaven and hell I’ve been through the last 96 hours.
Since my last entry I’ve experienced the entire gamut of road trip awesomeness and adversity. From starvation, heat exhaustion, and a bad flu to the most beautiful place I’ve ever imagined to depression and self reflection to a Polish American man named Dawid (Da-veet) who is the perfect blend between robin hood, peter pan, Picasso and insanity.
If California treats me similarly, I’m not sure I’ll survive this road trip.
Where do I start?
Maybe I should commence with a huge thank you and general update on the logistics.
Thank you all for continually checking our website and donations of food, beds, and cold cash. The generosity and love experienced during this road trip is as great as the experiences of scaling mountain tops and water sports. When I first had the idea for this web site I only imagined it as an outlet of communication for friends and family and maybe a source of small donations and ad revenue to help pay for the site costs and to make our trip “green” by paying for carbon offsets. But no, since most of you have told your friends and family and continue to come back, I’ve raised enough money for the website, carbon offsets, and hotels and gas for the entire first 11 days from donations alone. My lazy self hasn’t even added the advertisements to the site yet.
So thank you for that. And then thankyou to all the wonderful friends and family that have gone well over expectations in their hospitality. All I wanted was AC and bed. Instead we got ribeyes barbeques beer hearty breakfasts and personal tour guides. I know that I can’t speak for everyone in the van but such great hospitality really helped weave my nervous nelly nature into a free spirit.
As far as a logistical update is concerned, we are on track with the posted itinerary. We have driven 3,100 miles and the Van is only making slightly unnerving noises. No one has lost anything irreplaceable. But we did lose a very specific camera charger so photo updates have been lacking. To make up for it, Bill and Steve are editing our very first video to post tonight or tomorrow in the backseat as I type this. We have also lost much of our enthusiasm for video recording so there will be a very large gap if we ever put together anything from our clips. Eh so it goes.
But then again in the last few days there have been about 100 moments where we exclaimed “gosh I wish we had the video camera turned on.”
We slept in a La Quinta (my hotel of choice) in El Paso, all crammed into one room. Hugo, Bill, and I cuddled in a king size bed and Joel and Steve had floor honors. Then we ate their complimentary continental breakfast. Bill and I had a discussion on the root of the word “continental” and are clueless as to how the word came to be used for poor quality eggs and bisquits at discount hotel chains.
We left as early as possible for our next 8 hour drive to Phoenix. This drive included many firsts for me. First mountains of the trip, first time in the desert, and first time seeing Mexico.
Southern New Mexico was scenic but eventful. But it’s when I started feeling adventurous and it’s when I really felt the spirit of the road trip. We really hadn’t done a great job spreading Annie up to this point, having settling for a piece of lawn in St Louis and completely skipping Oklahoma (that’s ok, who wants to be there?). Right about 5 miles from the Arizona border I ordered the driver to make a quick exit. I wasn’t about to abandon another state. We went about about a mile down the road and found a sign labeling the road the Korean War Veteran Memorial Highway. This was as good a place as any. We sprinkled away and took some silly photos. Mostly of Hugo in his Dallas souveneir sequent cowboy hat.
Then on the way to Tuscon for dinner we stopped at a town of 700 people called Fort Byron. There were at least 10 road signs advertising Walnuts, Peanuts, and Wine. $3 dollar wine unlimited wine tastings later we bought 10 bottles of wine to ship home along with some nuts and fudge. We’ve been lazy and haven’t gone to fedex yet, and I am guessing that 112 degree weather in a black minivan doesn’t do much for the wine quality. The experience was great though. Pure road trip spontanaeity. I sat out in the middle of the street of the downtown area and only saw one car pass. A ghost town with a great winery.
We then went to Tuscon for dinner and randomly picked a local owned restaurant specializing in Mediterranean cuisine. This is the road trip of firsts afterall, even food. Up to this point I had tried my first Texas BBQ, baked beans, and cole slaw. Why not try some ethnic cuisine? It was absolutely disgusting. My four amigos loved it, but I can’t handle that intense flavoring. Even the French fries were overwhelmingly tasty. Cumin, curry, oh my. Gross. The manager was a great dude though and gave us free desert. We like free stuff.
So onto Phoenix to see my friend Brittany and check out the town for 2 nights. This was supposed to be the first major stop where we were going to stay in a hotel. On a whim we decided to use an internet site called couchsurfing.com, a site connecting travelers with nice people who offer up their beds and couches. Risky, yes. Creepy, yes. But why not? Our budget is tight, we know no one, and this is supposed to be crazy.
Crazy is what we got. We rolled up to the strangers house, which appeared to be in a very shady neighborhood in the heart of downtown Phoenix. Then a talll lengthy man knocked on my window. He was wearing a full suit and a hat with a feather sticking out of it in 110 degree weather, and I knew we were in for a treat.
Dawid is his name. Self-proclaimed Polish Prince of Mayhem. An artist, his house is decorated like a room out of Alice in Wonderland, with a keyhole instead of a bedroom door, pinball machine for a kitchen table, headless manicans for lamps, homeade light fixtures, tree stumps for chairs, and an 8 foot tall bronze hookah. It’s actually really incredible. It sounds dysfunctional but it was quite cozy.
Upon meeting him and entering his labrynth of creativity, we discussed our trip, his passion for art and volunteerism, and his regular trips to Mexico to cure cancer with non-traditional medicine.
Then he invited us to a tranny motorcycle bar. At this point Bill looked at me and said “whatever happens this weekend, just say yes.”
We did not go to the tranny bar the first night but we did let Dawid chauffer us to a german sausage restaurant that becomes an illegal bar and rave party at night that lasts until the morning. It reminded me much of the scenester hangouts I am familiar with due to my time promoting teeny rock concerts but only the mid-twenties version. Swooped hair, ear guages, tight pants, heavy petting and bad music. Picture a hipster gay bar with electronic music and german beer for people who never want to grow up. It was kind of awesome and it kind of was the worst idea of the trip. I didn’t drink but we were up until 430am and I have not been feeling right since.
The next day we all went to visit with my long lost friend Brittany. Brittany and I met as lil kids at MDA camp and bonded over our spinal muscular atrophy, love of bad music, and hatred for camp rules. We were known for our non participation and finding spots hidden away for Brittany to smoke.
About ten years ago she moved to Arizona to get away from family life and find better breathing air. After her attempt at independent living fell apart she moved into an adult group home for people who use ventilators and has been there for 7 years now. This was the very first time I have visited her.
I wish I would have 7 years ago. The family home she lives in houses four people on ventilators and in return for over $10,000 in government funds per month will house you feed you and hire caretakers. There are only two non English speaking caretakers and one certified nurse during the day and one nurse at night.
Brilliant business model, horrible living situation.
Brittany and her peers have to be in bed by 630 and get in trouble for something as simple as laughing too loud. They get to leave the house once a week in groups of 2, but other than that are stuck without outside help. There are even restrictions on how often and when you can go to the bathroom.
I knew places like this existed and I knew Brittany’s living situation was not ideal but this I did not expect. Not only was this hard for me to experience but it made me want change. And it made me so thankful for the home and people and opportunities I have had. It will be a constant reminder that life can be worse and a push to reach for more.
But it will be even more than that. It’s going to be hard from the road, but I want to get her out of that prison when I get home. I don’t know how or when but I’ll do my best to help her get out.
This day wasn’t even close to over. First I went to a family owned Mexican joint to get some eat at about 11pm. Best Mexican food I’ve ever had in the middle of down trodden Phoenix. I also tried speaking to some friendly looking men next to me. He kept saying “no entiendo no ingles.” So I broke into my college Spanish. Should have seen the look on this guys face. “This crippled unshaven gringo is speaking my language!” then his quiet friend insisted on giving me $5 for my trip eventhough he didn’t own a car and needed new clothes. That is generosity. I’m going to pay it forward.
Then we continued our plan to go with our new friend Dawid and his girlfriend to the tranny karaoke bar. Plus we told Hugo we would take him to a gay bar on the trip. But it was getting way too late for me so my plan was to just drop them off and be in bed by midnight. But no, the tranny bar was closed down that evening and the group was insistent on a crazy night. So from there we went on what felt like some sort of gay witch hunt. And what our tour guide thought were all 18+ dance clubs were only 21 allowed so the entire group couldn’t get in. Our last stop was a place called Apollos, where they have weekly Sunday night gigolo stripper performances. I waited again in the car hoping they would get in so I could finally retire. Nope. Missed the show. The traveling showman was already tucked away in his RV named Prowler. We did get a positive review from a man in the parking lot who was thoroughly entertained even though be does not normally like muscle men and he is not a “size queen”.
By the time our search for male performers was over it was 2am and I was still up.
Horrible.
And then I woke up with a sore throat.
But the show must go on. The day was supposed to be easy but due to the late nights we didn’t get out of the 110 degree hell until 1pm. We drove up towards the grand canyon for a sunset viewing.
Before the canyon, we took highway 89a through Sedona. Heaven. Wow. I have never experienced mother nature’s beauty like this or ever imagined it to be this spectacular. Mountains, forests, rocks, creeks, canyons, crazy bridges – it was a phenomenal drive. But there were Starbucks and designer clothes stores and churches everywhere, which makes me wonder. Is it greedy of mankind to immerse our civilization into such beauty or should we be applauded for achieving such destructive greatness? Either way, this is one place I plan to return on a longer vacation.
We also made two pit stops to sprinkle Annie. The first was when we first entered Sedona at the Red Rock National Park Viewing Center. It was a great view and there was also a cow down below. It unfortunately started to rain so we got back on our way north.
On a whim we pulled off for a “Scenic View” exit. It ended up being the Coconino National Forest Viewing Exit. It was absolutely astonishing. I rolled my wheels all the way to the rails and looked down into a well over 5,000 foot canyon. I’ve never seen a view like this before in my life. We sprinkled Annie over the edge and Steve said some nice words.
By this time my sore throat turned into a fever and misery. But who cares? You only live once, sometimes not at all. I wasn’t done with this mountain.
I was going to go where no gimp had gone before.
I took my chair off the trails on an extremely rocky pass that over looks an unprotected edge. I took it as far as I felt was safe. If I wasn’t sick and freeIng I think I could have gone another 100 feet or more. Even though it was difficult, it was so liberating to go out there and seclude myself into the wild. It was a powerful moment to look down into that canyon, only 5 feet and a wheelchair malfunction away from disaster.
After my little offroad mountain expedition we still had two hours to the canyon of all canyons. To see Sedona and the grand canyon we went 6 hours out of our way instead of going to San Diego. We were so close. But my fever was pushing 101, my breathing was getting worse with every foot we climbed into the mountains, and we were going to most likely going to miss sunset and sunrise given the overcast. For an hour or so I convinced myself I could make it but the truth was that I was really scared to fall asleep 3000 miles away from home, five hours away from a hospital, and 7500 feet above my normal breathing altitude.
So I told the boys that I thought we should drive as close to LA as possible to get to lower elevations and medical facilities. I felt really bad that I was the reason for the first trip detour. But really it was a lesson to all. We have to take care of ourselves.
Nonetheless, when I told them the bad news they were fine, and Hugo exclaimed “it’s okay stevie, we saw our own grand canyon!”
Yes we did.
phoenixxx
