Trip report

Prelude

The first days (New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania)

The flight from Amsterdam to Newark is fine, despite a slight delay at departure. I am flying Singapore Airlines for the first time and their good reputation appears to be well founded. The meals are tasty and the video-on-demand, offering a choice of 20 movies, takes away the boredom of  a long flight. The immigration officer at Newark airport does appear to blink when I mention that I am here on a three month holiday, but she quickly stamps the visa in my passport, without further ado. A bit of a relief, because an overly suspicious officer could have seriously upset my plans. A shuttle takes me to my hotel in Midtown Manhattan. I arrive at noon, so I have all afternoon, and all of tomorrow, to explore Manhattan. I visit some of the must sees: Wall Street, Ground Zero, Statue of Liberty, Battery Park, Brooklyn Bridge, Central Park and so on. Click on these pictures to see a higher-res version. The sights are not quite as memorable as one might imagine, because you see these things every day on tv. The atmosphere however is unique. The numbered streets and avenues, the hot dog stands, the yellow cabs, the traffic jams. Manhattan is much bigger than I had imagined. A walk from Battery Park (the most southern tip) to Central Park is about 60 blocks, which takes the best part of 2 hours. I visit a couple of museums, the Metropolitan Museum of Art ("Met") and the Guggenheim Museum. The Met has a huge collection of every kind of art imaginable, ranging from ancient Egypt to modern art, showing the master-pieces of everything including Van Gogh, Rembrandt etc. Compared to this massive collection the Guggenheim is dwarfed, with is much smaller and specialized collection of abstract art. But the famous spiral building is a work of art in itself. Outside the weather is hot and sticky, so I don't mind wandering through the cool museums, during the hottest time of the day. On wednesday morning, after spending 2 nights at the Comfort Inn 35th street, I take a cab to Grand Central Station. The cab driver has a beard that shows the remains of whatever he has eaten for the past three days. A train takes me to Peekskill, a town 30 miles north of Manhattan. Fortunately the company where I rented my car turns out to be bona fide. It was a bit scary to book a rental over the internet with a company you have never heard of, but it seems to turn out fine. This is a "mom-and-pop" shop, where the customer receives personal attention . Disadvantage of the small scale is that I have to wait my turn for some time, because there happens to be another customer ahead of me and the cars weren't quite ready yet. I don't really mind and make good use of my  time by doing some groceries shopping. A few hours later I a drive off into the world in my Dodge Ram 1500 van camper. I feel a bit uncomfortable in a car much bigger than what i am used too, but that is just a matter of time. A disappointment soon follows. The parcel that I mailed to the Peekskill post office has not arrived (yet?). The mail man is quite helpful though, and gives me the phone number of the post office so I can check when it arrives. Lord knows how many miles I'll be away when that thing gets here. Fortunately I have planned for this. The parcel only contains things I can do without. Towels, socks, camping gear and my tent. The tent is the most important item in there. I plan to use it on  a few backpacking trips, but it is old and up for replacement anyway, so I will buy myself a new one here. Just in case the parcel arrives in the next few days, I stay within a modest range of Peekskill for a day or two. Thus I drive more westerly than I had originally planned, which takes me to the town of YoungWood, PA: a town that happens to have the same name as the company I work for, 20 miles south-east of Pittsburgh. That turns into a minor disappointment: the town of YoungWood is ugly, even by American standards. It is jammed in between two lanes of a busy highway, there are hardly any shops, except for 3 gas stations and a post office. There is a library, but due to 4th of july festivities it is closed all week. I quickly make a few pictures (click on the picture too see more)  and then push the pedal to the metal. Let's get away from here and see something interesting. I pass Punxsatawney, PA. A name that rings a bell but I can't figure out why. Only when I see some banners showing a fat rodent, it hits me. This town was featured in the movie "Groundhog Day"! Remarkable how you recognize so many things from TV or movies. After two days, the parcel still hasn't arrived, so I decide to abandon it and pick up my originally planned route South. First I pass through  "Amish country", the area around Lancaster, PA where thousands of Amish still live like they did 100 years ago. They don't use modern inventions such as motor cars, plastics and electricity. The Amish travel in carts, work the fields with horses. The area has 10 times as many tourists as Amish, which makes me feel sorry for the Amish. I respect their way of life, even though I don't support their religious motives. A quick visit to Gettysburgh, the site of a major, bloody battle that took place in 1863, during the US civil war. This battle is best known for the "Gettysburgh address", held by Abraham Lincoln on that spot, several months after the battle. Today a stroll around the battlefield shows hundreds of monuments to mark the death of thousands of soldiers. Previously I knew next to nothing about the Civil War, but thanks to a presentation in the Visitor Center I know more now, despite the fact that the presentation is uniquely boring, featuring a monotonous recorded voice reciting a text that includes every possible place, name and date, illustrated by 19th century technology: flashing lights on a map of the battlefield. At the end of the presentation several visitors remain in their seats, snoring.

First stage, part A (Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee)

Onwards to Shenandoah National park and the Blue Ridge Parkway. This takes me south, from Maryland, through North Carolina to Virginia,  following the  Appalachian Mountains.  The Americans boast that this is geologically the oldest mountain range on earth. These days all I see are smooth hilltops, 3000 - 6000 feet high, covered in never ending lush forests and babbling brooks. The trees are real nice, but they get in the way when you want to get a clear view of the landscape, even on hilltops. Whenever you do reach a rare viewpoint the ever present blueish haze spoils the fun. What makes Shenandoah NP most interesting is its history. Until the 1930's people lived in the area, but they were kindly asked to leave when it was designated as a National Park. As a result you can still find overgrown remains of human habitation right in the middle of the forests. I was particularly impressed by an eerily quiet graveyard in a forest. Very mysterious. On a campground in Shenandoah NP, where I parked my van for the night,  a bear that merrily foraged along the edge of the campground,  undisturbed by the people taking photographs. My pictures turned out rather grainy due to the fading light and the limits of my camera. I reckoned using a flash would not be a good idea.  I also saw countless deer, turkeys, turtles etc. The Blue Ridge Mountains culminate into Great Smoky Mountain National Park (GSMNP), on the border between North Carolina and Tennessee, the most  visited National Park in the USA, despite its modest size of roughly 15 x 25 miles. The hills here are just a little steeper, the forest just a bit richer and the brooks just a bit wilder, compared to the rest of the Appalachians.  The main features remain the same: endless forests and hazy views. Most notable difference is the fact that GSMNP is full of cars, leading to the occasional traffic jam, whereas in the Appalachians north and south of the park, traffic is very light. Nice thing about this part of the country is that the vast majority of visitors is American. Foreigners, such as myself are very rare. This adds significantly to my feeling of being away from it all. The van isn't so bad. The steering is a bit vague, I have to be alert all the time to keep it going in a straight line. It is as thirsty as the Drunk Gardener of Southern Amsterdam: 16 miles a gallon at best. The water supply does not work properly, there is a sink and a tap, but the tap only works when the water tank is completely full. Since the water in the tank does not look very clean anyway I simply use bottled water. On the plus side: the driving position is comfortable,  I can cook my own meals (and i do so regularily). Also I sleep like a log. Most notable difference between an ordinary car and my van camper is the fridge! It is a great luxury to always have cool drinks at hand and to have a supply of fresh meat, cheese and stuff like that. But take care when opening the refrigerator door, items may have shifted during the ride. One time I was not so carfeul and was greeted by the pleasant squatsh! sound of some raw eggs falling on the floor. I have spent lots of time hiking the woods. Mostly day hikes, but also one overnight trip in GSMNP, using a tent I bought here, following the parcel mishap. As crowded as the roads are, so quiet are the hiking trails. Out on the trail one meets approximately 8.41 large mammals an hour, only 7.49% of which are homo sapiens. All trails are perfectly maintained and clearly sign posted. getting lost is nearly impossible, which is a bit of a pity really, because getting lost and the using map and compass to get back to the real world is half the fun of back country travel. In US National Parks all  commercial activities are strictly limited. As a result the towns just outside the park are sprawling with motels, restaurants, gift shops and every tourist trap imaginable. Especially the town of Gatlinburg really hurts the eyes. Next time I will gladly make a 100 mile detour to avoid another glimpse of Gatlinburg. Over the last 1000 miles, the landscape has hardly changed between Maryland and Tennessee, along the Blue Ridge Parkway. The speech of the local people has changed though. The difference between the harsh New Yorker, reminding me of Woody Allen, and the singing, drawling Southerner, reminding me of The Dukes of Hazard, is quite significant.

1st stage part B (Mississippi, Alabama, Louisiana)

Leaving the  Smoky Mountains I drive West, towards Nashville, to pick up the Natchez Trail Parkway. A 400 mile road, from Nashville, Tennessee to Natchez, Louisiana. Around 1800 this was a major trade route between North and South. With the development of steam engines it became possible to use boats to travel the rivers, such as the Mississippi, which made this road obsolete. These days only a few short stretches of the original trail remain, deeply eroded, so now you walk 10 feet below ground level in places. For me, the Parkway is a fast way to get South. There is hardly any traffic on this smooth, gently curving road. The odometer ticks over nicely. The landscape hardly changes. The only change I notice is that the weather is warming up. A sure sign that I am going South. From the town of Natchez I use the quickest way to get to New Orleans. Apart from New York and Las vegas this will be just about the only city I plan to visit in the entire trip. So far I have avoided cities such as Washington, Philadelphia and Nashville, even though I passed fairly close by all of those. My theory is that nearly all American cities are the same, so I focus on those that are exceptions to the rule. What makes New Orleans exceptional is the French Quarter, or rather the Vieux Carré: a square mile of narrow streets, 2 story houses with balconies and  a juggler, living statue or musician on every corner. Most streets are full of shops selling art and other junk, except for Bourbon street which is full of bars and cafés and night clubs and other forms of adult entertainment. There is very little traffic in the quarter, so walking around is quite pleasant. Gambling is legal in Louisiana and the billboards that appear every 100 yards along the road make sure that everybody knows where the nearest casino is. I plan to try my luck at the poker tables in Las Vegas, so this is a good chance to gain some experience. The past few days I have been studying in the book "Poker for dummies" and I can't wait to show my superior talent and analytical mind to the world, making bags full of money in the process by playing Texas Hold 'em. Things don't quite work out that way. My losses stay within budget, but I am losing faster than I was expecting. I guess this is a price I have to pay in the process of learning the game. It is a very exciting game though. Making decisions about betting or folding when there are lots of chips in the pot can make ones pulse race. It is a good thing that I found out now that I still have things to learn, because I still have some time to study, before I reach Las vegas. That one hand where I held pocket Aces (the best starting hand) and still lost will continue to haunt me for a few more days. New Orleans is a city of music and that clearly shows on the radio. In most parts of the country you have a choice between 3 Country stations, 2 R&B's, 1 golden oldies station, 1 classical and 1 talk radio station. Here you can listen to jazz, folk, zydeco. All very refreshing. Unfortunately the standard pattern reappears as soon as you get 75 miles away from New Orleans. Listening to the radio in the US is not a very pleasant experience in general, for me. The continuous commercials for cars, medication and loans are rarely  interrupted by something ssubstantial. The country stations repeat the hits of the day every hour. Songs such as "It's 5 o'clock somewhere", "The view I love the most, is my front porch, looking in" are unwillingly becoming the sound track of my journey. Most of the time there isn't much choice so I feel forced to listen to them, even though they irritate me. Radio highlight of the day is the political talk show of Rush Limbaugh, who comments on US politics from a very republican point of view. Nuances are not his strong suit: everything the Conservatives do is great, whereas the Democrats are dangerous, naive losers. This doesn't necessarily match my political views, but it is great fun listening to his monologues. West of New Orleans is "Cajun Country". The land is flat and swampy, the climate hot and humid. The culture has been dominated by French immigrants, which shows in the names on the map:: Baton Rouge, Lafayette, New Orleans etc. The Cajun cuisine is famous, so I can't skip that. Plenty of seafood, which makes sense, being near the coast. The Gumbo, like a soup eaten with rice is real nice. I also get a chance to try some alligator meat. This has been mushed into a stew, which makes it hard to tell what alligator tastes like. I guess you could say that it tastes like chicken. One of the restaurants has a Zydeco band playing live. Zydeco is the traditional Cajun music, dominated by the fiddle and harmonica. The lyrics are in French, but even though I learned some French, way back when, I can't make head or tail of this. Between two songs the band leader says something but I cant even tell whether he is speaking French or English. Nobody cares, 'laissez les bon temps rouler!' On july 26 I leave New Orleans ending stage 1. So far I have driven 3000 miles already, much more than I had planned. This is partly because of the many detours and U-turns that I have to make because of my flimsy navigational skills. The road signs on the minor roads are very hard to follow. For example: when you try to stay on highway 73 then you need to be very careful at every intersection, because there just might be one tiny sign on the intersection telling you to take a left to stay on 73. When you miss the single sign it might be another 10 or 20 miles before you finally see another sign which might give you an indication that you are now on 52, not 73. Another classic way to go wrong is when you plan to take a certain road in the southern direction, only to find two signs: one that says East and one West, giving you a 50/50 chance of picking the right direction. This makes me appreciate the good old ANWB signs back home, which warn you well ahead of the intersection. Two more sentences before we begin stage 2. One more sentence before stage 2. This is the last sentence of stage 1, stage 2 begins now.

Second stage part A

Texas. Land of the wide open plains, cowboy hats and rednecks. So much for the prejudices I had about this state. On the radio I hear Texas leads the nation in cases of driving under the influence of alcohol, so I feel right at home here. The east of Texas is flat, fertile and green. As you go West this changes slowly, things get drier, hillier and less green. The summer heat remains. I was expecting the Texans to be a bit rude and unwelcoming, so I must hereby apologize to all Texans for this mistake: they are beyond doubt the friendliest Americans there are. In the small town of Blanco, for instance, I wandered through the few streets and everybody, young and old,  said "hi!" to me, even though it was clear I was  a stranger in town. Try that in New York City. Whenever I am driving on a Texan highway and make room to let someone pass me, the Texan will usually give a wave in thanks. Whereas in most parts of the country the locals act as if they wouldn't mind pushing these bleeding RV's off the road. After an overnight stay in a State Park campground, I use the cool morning air to do some running, desperately trying to stay in shape. According to the map of campground, there are no hiking trails around which I could use for my run, so I plan to exit the campground and run along the highway. However, it takes me half an hour just to get to the exit, so running on the road isn't necessary. The campground turns out to be huge, with more than 500 sites. On the way back I meet a herd of white tail(?) deer who gracefully skip and run into the woods for cover. If  I had to describe Texas in just one word, then 'big' would be a serious candidate. It takes me several days to reach Big Bend National Park in the south-west corner of the state, close to Mexico. A magnificent desert landscape with spectacular rock formations, plateaus and canyons. Vultures soar in the sky. In every valley I half expect to be ambushed by apaches. This land appears to be made for western movies, or am I beginning to turn things around? The desert in and around Big Bend is surprisingly green and full of life. Partly because this is the "wet" season, with the occasional afternoon thunderstorm. Click on these pictures for high-res versions. The roadrunner can be seen here, a bird that prefers to run around instead of fly. This creature is much smaller and blander than in the cartoons, but it does run real fast. Coyotes also occur here and the cartoon landscape is clearly based on reality. Big Bend is a very remote area. It is so remote that the radio offers a choice of zero stations and that includes the AM band. This also means that park is not visited by many and it is really peaceful. At night the skies are clear, showing incredible views of the night sky. A real treat for a city boy like myself. From Big Bend I head for New Mexico,  passing the renowned McDonald observatory in Fort Davis, Texas. There I am treated to a fascinating tour of the large telescopes. We also get a live glimpse of the sun, showing some sun spots and spectacular protuberances (triple word score) The tour guide explains that the observatory is far away from civilization, to avoid the lights of the cities, polluting the observations. To illustrate the remoteness he points out that the nearest WalMart is no less than 90 miles away, which doesn't just illustrate the remoteness of the observatory. The Carlsbad Caverns are spectacular natural caves full of stalagmites and stalactites. There are many natural caves around the world, but these are very American: bigger than anywhere else. Only a small part of the cave system has been explored, and an even smaller part is open to the public. Unfortunately everything is over organized with guide rails and electric lights, signs pointing to the nearest rest room etc., which for me rather spoils the mystery of such a place. Nevertheless well worth a visit, if only to escape the midday sun. New Mexico is one huge desert with reddish brown rocks. this color also shows in the 'adobe' houses. In fact all buildings, including shopping malls and such are built in the same style with reddish brown plaster. Prairie dogs are so common here that they live in the middle of towns. These creatures are most famous for standing upright, looking around for danger. One notable exception to the reddish brown is the White  Sands National Monument. A sand pit filled with the whitest sand imaginable, made of some mineral which happens to stay within the valley, due to its unique lie. The sand gets blown around by the wind, but still remains in the area.  Click on the picture for a high res version. Nearby is an air base housing the "stealth" bombers. It is weird to see those black laundry irons soar through the sky.

Second stage part B Las Vegas

Third stage part A Grand Canyon en Utah

After spending a week in Vegas the daily routine, sleep, poker, eat, poker, etc. is wearing me down. Onwards to the Grand Canyon, Az. I visited it twice before, but it it is hard pass by. Americans consider this as one of natures biggest wonders of the world, and for once I must admit they have a point. I'll hold back on the superlatives, but this canyon is truly Grand. One thing I haven't done before is to descend to the canyon floor, where the Colorado river flows. All publications of the National Park Service stress that it is not possible to hike to the canyon floor and back in one day. This recommendation is accompanied by various stories of death and destruction.  During my previous visit I descended half way down and back and was surprised at how easy that was. So this time my plan is to have a go anyway, taking plenty of precautions, just in case. My main safety precaution is the plan to start at dawn and take no more than 4.5 hours to hike down. When those 4.5 hours have passed I must turn back, which assures me that I have enough time to make it back before sunset, assuming that hiking back up will take twice as long as hiking down. Just before sunrise at 05.15 am I head out, from the North Rim, following the Bright Angel trail. The early start gives me plenty of time and also allows me to make the most of the cool morning air. During the afternoon temperatures easily reach the nineties (30 Celsius). My best calculations of the time I need to reach the floor turn out too optimistic. Despite my efforts to to keep up a stiff down hill pace, there is no sight of the river after the planned 4.5 hours. I decide to stretch the deadline by 10 more minutes. And then by 10 more. And then...  After considerably more than 5 hours the goal is reached: the Colorado river. An unimpressive muddy stream, 20-30 yards wide. Surrounded by a semi city known as the Phantom Ranch, where one can rent cabins with running water, electric light and air conditioning. Yuck. After a quick photograph  I  head back up. It is 11 am already, I will have to rush to make it back before dark, sunset is approx. 7.30 pm.. The first hour of the uphill hike is quick and easy, mostly because the trail snakes through a narrow side canyon, which is a sight for sore eyes. Steep walls, a stream glistening in the morning sun. Soon after the pace slows steadily. The sun is beginning to burn down my neck and breathing is difficult. The air feels thin, even though the altitude is not extreme. The legs feel fine, but the lungs are not keeping up as well. The early start is not my only safety measure. I also carry a torch, so I can hike in the dark, if I have too. Should that not be enough then my large backpack also contains equipment to cook a hot meal, plus plenty of warm clothing for the worst case scenario: surviving a cold the night on the trail. All that stuff remains safely in the pack, fortunately. At 7.45 pm, just before dark, I return to the van. The last few hours I have been doing a convincing imitation of a Mount Everest climber: two small steps up, a quick breather, two more steps, quick breather, etc. In 14.5 hours I covered some 28 miles (45 km) and both descended and climbed over 5000 feet (almost 2000 m). During the trip I drank 2 gallons of water (8 liters), not counting the six pack I consumed afterwards, back at the campground. All in all I can not say I am proud of the achievement. It was far more difficult than I had planned. Apparently I am not in as good a shape as I thought I was. Also I have been hurrying all day long, hardly taking any time to enjoy the the beauty of the canyon. At the end of the day I must admit that the Park Service recommendation, not to try this kind of trip in one day, is a wise one...  Utah has many attractions. Because I visited some of these before, such as Bryce Canyon and Arches National Park, I now pick a few of the lesser visited sites. One of my travel guides recommends a trip by car over an unpaved road, past Cottonwood Canyon and Grosvenor Arch to Kodachrome basin. This sounds pretty good to me. At the start of the road a sign warns me that the road is "Impassible when wet". I find that statement difficult to believe, the dirt road looks pretty solid to me, and my guide-book did not mention any dangers, so I confidently steer into the country side, despite some dark clouds in the distance. About 10 miles down the road a thunderstorm brings some cool rain. Soon after I begin to realize what that sign was all about. In dry conditions the road is bumpy, but hard. The rain turns the sand into a sticky mud which clings to the car tires. Mud on mud does not provide much friction and despite a snails pace the car becomes uncontrollable and slides left and right. When one of the rear wheels starting spinning freely in the mud I am forced to admit defeat. I must wait for conditions to improve and turn around. After waiting for an hour or so, the rain has stops and soon the puddles are absorbed by the desert. Fortunately I have some firewood on board, which I can place under the wheels to help me get out of the mud and turn the car. After slithering and sliding for a mile or so the road condition improves. Nevertheless this failure means that I have driven 200 miles to get back to where I started.  One word of advice: always bring some fire-wood when driving.

Third stage part B Colorado

During an attempt to download my e-mail and to do some surfing at a campground, I notice my laptop is unusually slow and sending twice as many Megabytes as it is receiving. Very suspicious, so I instruct my virus scanner to download the latest virus information.  Bingo: my computer has been infested by the "W32/Nachi" worm. A germ that propagates spontaneously, without using e-mail, exploiting a bug in Microsoft's RPC-implementation. Fortunately the culprit is fairly easy to remove, using a special program supplied by my anti virus provider. Since a warned man counts for two I also download and install a fire-wall program, which I didn't have yet. I should also install a Windows update, to eliminate the RPC bug, but that requires a 15MB download, over an old fashioned phone line. Not something I am looking forward to. Highlight of the day is that the campground has an "ice cream social" tonight. I try to show up fashionably late, to find out that I am the only customer. The girl that serves the ice cream recommends a 'root beer floater', something  entirely new to me: a cup  of root beer with vanilla ice cream floating in it. "Peculiar" is the word that comes to mind. The girl is a true music lover, looking forward to an Eagles concert next month in Grand Junction, Co. She is also an admirer of the Beatles and thus very disappointed that she can not make it to the Ringo Star concert in Vegas, since Ringo is her favorite Beatle. Does this mean there is still a future for today's youth? I am now about half way through my trip. A good time to get philosophical. On  BBC radio I once heard someone say: "Travels are the midwives of thought" and that person certainly had a point. When traveling, unbothered by day-to-day worries, both minor and major, deep thought and great ideas can pop up out of nowhere. In my case the depth and greatness is not that intense. The deepest thought is usually limited to today's menu, but I did have a few nice ideas that are worth exploring when I get back home. Those will probably not lead to anything, but then again they might make a fortune, so I will not publish them here.... It is remarkable how little spare time I have on this journey. Every day is full chores: sleeping, groceries, loads of driving, sight-seeing. Times when I have nothing to do are quite rare. The modest stack of books I took along is shrinking very slowly. At the moment I am engulfed in the "Complete Idiot's Guide to American History". A fascinating book ranging from Columbus to today.  I think most Dutchmen underestimate the richness en bloodshed in the history of the US. I was inspired to buy and read this book by the many roadside "Historical Markers" that I encountered, especially in the east, marking historical events, usually battles. Thanks to the Idiot's Guide I now understand much better what that was all about. I recommend this book to any foreigner visiting the US, who wants more than magnificent views and hamburgers. One thing that I am beginning to miss is the everyday news from my home country. When at home I usually listen to the radio when in the traffic jams on the way to work. My favorite radio station keeps me well up to date on current affairs. Here there are no similar radio stations. Most don't even have news bulletins. Those that do, rattle of  the headlines in less than a minute, not enough to quench my thirst for news. News about events occurring outside the US is virtually non-existent. Some radio stations appear to be broadcasting the sound of TV-bulletins. "This contribution with spectacular images of ...." The papers are not much help either, focussing on the number of US soldiers killed in Iraq, the progress of the court case against Kobe Bryant, accused of rape and the California recall vote, where Arnold "I'll be back" Schwarzenegger is running for governor. Not a syllable about "The State of  the World". I guess it is a blessing to live in small country like Holland, which forces one to develop a broader view of the planet. Nevertheless I fairly often meet people with well developed points of view and critical, alternative opinions. In the streets the "Stars and Stripes" wave everywhere, often accompanied bu patriotic slogans, such as "united we stand" or "support our troops", but in conversation not everybody agrees with "Dubya's" iron fist approach. The thinking man sees how the US is antagonizing half the world's population and wasting tax money and human lives. I wonder what the next presidential elections will bring. I spend a few days in Rocky Mountain National Park, west of Denver, Co. A natural area with mountains of up to 14,000 feet and equally great views. Outside of the park the nature has been infested by the skiing economy: large hotels, built in fake European alpine style, barren slopes where trees have been felled to make room for ski runs.   Inside the boundaries of the National park there is no sign of this infestation. Nothing but nature itself.  During a few day hikes I get the chance to meet nature: pine forests, deer that don't even blink when I pass by, 25 feet away, all kinds of birds that I try to memorize, so I can look then up in my bird guide later on, (ground) squirrels in all sizes and colors. The mountain nights are wonderfully cold. Very pleasant after the desert heat. The cold nights help me discover that my mini refrigerator does not have a thermostat: in the morning my glass of orange juice has ice cubes in it.  But still, Rocky Mountain NP does not quite capture my imagination. I do not understand why. I leave a day earlier than planned and use this time for a visit to Black Hawk, Co. A 19th century mining town, founded during a gold rush and now, appropriately, littered with casino's. Bus loads of slot machine zombies from the Denver area come and go here. In the mean while I can quench my poker thirst... The law in Colorado allows poker, but only for low limits, max. $5. Players that are good enough to play higher limits are thus condemned to playing for pennies, making it very hard for an ambitious novice like me to make a profit. I end up with a small loss,  and much knowledge gained. Wyoming is next. A state that does not allow gambling. I am already looking forward to Montana, where it is allowed again..

Third stage part C Wyoming en Montana

After traveling for 8 weeks a certain tiredness is settling in. Initially curiosity and ambitious travel plans drove me onwards. But now that a daily routine has developed, everything is ordinary. I find that unusual wild life or great views fail to impress me as much as they did a few weeks ago. The urge to get out of bed early and see the world is diminishing and I am getting behind on the schedule. Most days now consist of ordinary things executed at a leisurely pace: sleeping late, groceries shopping, driving for a bit, do the laundry etc. My plans to do loads of long back country hikes are on the back burner and I feel a bit guilty about that. According to Richard Bryson, author of the comical classic travel story "The Lost Continent", people here in the West are not nearly as friendly as those in the middle and south. He is right. Example: you ask a campground host for internet access. The Southerner might answer: "I am very sorry, we do not offer that, but you could try ....". Whereas the Westerner will probably just say "We do not have that."     Visited Yellowstone National Park, in de northwest corner of Wyoming. I have been here before too, but this is one of those places you can not afford to skip. Its uniqueness lies partly in the many thermal features, geysers and such. Everywhere you look, steam rises from the ground, or boiling water or bubbling mud. All of this accompanied by the unmistakable stench of sulfur. And the place is teaming with deer and bison. Unfortunately I didn't see any bear or wolves. Campgrounds in the National Parks often have 'camp fire' programs where a park ranger holds a talk. Subjects of these talks vary from plants, animals, geology, native american culture etc. The quality of these talks also vary greatly. Some rangers dutifully recite their lines, and some cater only for the children in the audience. Fortunately some of the rangers show a true passion for their subject . In Yellowstone I attended a talk about the wolves that were reintroduced by man a couple of  years ago, amidst great controversy. The last naturally occurring wolf had been killed 100 years ago by a hunter. Many ranchers that live around the park were afraid the wolves would attack their cattle, since the wolves can roam freely both inside and outside the park. Even some naturalists were worried about the wolves upsetting the delicate balance between prey and predators. Today it is fascinating to hear how the wolves have created their own living space and how they interact with the other animals, both prey and fellow predators such as coyote and bear. The park is quite crowded during my visit, since the first monday of september is   Labour Day, resulting in a long weekend that pulls many Americans out of the cities and into nature. I had planned to make a detour West,  into Idaho, to visit the "Craters of the Moon". But since I am behind schedule and because I have already driven far more miles than planned, I decide to skip that. With more than 10,000 miles on the odometer already I am not keen to lengthen the route even further. After another night of poker in Great Falls Montana (not a very profitable one)  I move on to Glacier National Park, on the Canadian border. During my previous visit here in 1996(?) I made a few memorable hikes here, so I am really looking forward to it. Wildfires in the western end of the park spoil the fun however. Even though I am on the eastern side and can't see a single flame, the smoke is everywhere. All views are very hazy indeed and the smell of fire is all around. I try a short hike anyway, to a viewpoint without a view, because of the smoke. The atmosphere is kind of spooky as the sun colors orange red in the middle of the day, like a sunset. On the way down I discuss life in general and travels in particular with a guy from Ohio, or rather from  uh-haia, which is closer to how he pronounced it. With all this smoke I decide to move straight on into Canada, and hope for better conditions there.

Third stage part D Alberta (Canada)

Canada. In many ways the same as the USA, but with more brains. That shows in the use of the metric system: kilometers, kilograms and liters instead of miles, ounces and gallons. The difference also shows in the broadcast system, which includes public stations with interesting programs so that I finally have something interesting to listen to on the radio, while driving. Another difference is the bilingual nature of Canada. Most signs and leaflets and such contain both French and English, which adds to the more cosmopolitan feel of the country.  Even the forests in Canada appear to have a more intellectual aura than in the US. Therefore it is a a pity that Canadians struggle with their national identity. They see the American patriotism, which is full of  "God bless America"s, Star Spangled Banners and mighty Bold Eagles. Next to that "oh Canada" (the national anthem), the maple leaf (flag) and the beaver (national animal) appear less than overwhelming. Somehow I get the feeling that the Canadians don't understand that the true cause of this problem lies on the US side of the border.   The Canadian Rocky Mountains are virtually just one big National Park, with Banff and Jasper as the largest and best known. This summer the area has been hit by heat waves and droughts, leading to wild fires here too. Not much sign of smoke, fortunately. However the very day I drive into Banff  the drought ends and rains pours from the sky. Because of the rain I decide to postpone my plans for a three day backcountry hike. This gives me a chance to get a hair cut, which I need badly after two months on the road. The lady cutting my hair insists on giving me all the details of this years Tour de France. I think that is typical of the Canadian attitude; an American would only be able to tell you what happened to American hero Lance Armstrong, who won it, by the way. The next day I set out on my long hike, despite the less than ideal weather forecast. With a ton of gear on my back I follow the trails from Arnica Lake and Gibbon Pass to Shadow Lake, Ball Pass Junction, Egypt Lake, Pharaoh Creek and back to Arnica Lake. A total distance of about 35 miles (55 km). Back country camping is not as rough and wild as one might think. Before setting out you need to buy a permit, specifying where and when you will camp. In the designated camping areas, signs show exactly where you may pitch a tent. To prevent bears from disturbing the nights' peace, an area well away from the tent sites is designated for cooking and eating so any bear attracted by food smells will not immediately wander into your tent. Also poles and cables are provided so you can easily store food out of reach of bears. Some camp sites even have toilet facilities, or rather: a hole in the ground with a toilet seat on top The first day of the journey brings a drizzle of rain, which persists all day long. At higher altitudes this turns into a thin layer of mushy snow. The second day is dry but cloudy and chilly. This good fortune is generously compensated for on the last day with some pouring rain. All of that water spoils most of the fun. Being wrapped up in waterproofs means you see and hear very little, so nature goes by unnoticed. I may have passed herds of deer, wolves, cougars and bears without even noticing them. The otherwise magnificent snow capped mountain tops are mainly hidden from view by clouds and fog. I did see some wildlife though: grouse, marmots and pica. At night I eat ready made dried meals: just add boiling water, stir, wait a few minutes and tuck in. These are not bad at all, but then again after a day of exercise in the open air any hot meal tastes pretty good. On shorter trips I usually bring along sandwiches for lunch and breakfast, but in a full backpack these tend to be squashed to a pulp. Also you would need a considerable stack of sandwiches to last for a couple of days, taking up lots of precious space in the pack. Therefore I use an alternative: touring bread. A home made food stuff, based on a Norwegian recipe that I found on the Internet some years ago. This link points to the recipe, which is in Dutch (Recept Toerbrood). In preparation for this trip I had baked some of this bread in the remains of a campfire. It tasted a bit smoky, and it was burnt in places, but still quite tasty. The recipe is very forgiving, you can add ingredients to match your own taste and the proportions don't matter all that much, it rarely fails. The result is a heavy, compact bread which provides lots of energy and it stays edible for weeks. After the rigors of the outdoor life, I decide to treat myself to a night in a luxury hotel:  Chateau Lake Louise. I like contrasts. This location has been the site of hotels and chalets since 1890, which is no surprise because it has a glorious view over the emerald green lake surrounded by spectacular mountains and glaciers. After those dried meals I am looking forward to eating in the hotel restaurant. This turns out slightly disappointing: the service is great but the cook spends more time dressing up the plate with fancy twirls and curls than working on the actual taste of the food. It does take care of my appetite, but I am not recommending any Michelin stars here. The journey is drawing to a close. I have a few more days to spend in the Canadian Rockies but then I must start out on stage 4, the long trek back to the east coast. One might wonder: "Is such a trip not too long? Don't you get bored with it?". In reply to such a question I can only quote Mae West, who said: "Too much of a good thing is ... wonderful". Accidentally, that is a line I picked up in the Liberace Museum in Vegas. Not every day in the Rockies brings rain. Saturday, september 12 is fine: clear blue skies, 65 F degrees (17 celsius). I use that day for a hike to the top of Mount Fairview, near Lake Louise, Banff NP. The reward is a magnificent view of the entire Lake Louise area. Not much solitude on this day, though. On the hill I meet dozens of other hikers, which should not be surprise since this is the first clear day for a week. One of the hikers is an experienced mountaineer who knows the area like the back of his hand. He is introducing his nephew to the beauty of the Rockies and meanwhile tells tall tales of his ascent of the various mountains that we can see from Mount Fairview. For me this hike is possibly the highlight of the entire journey. After spending a week in the Banff area the sell-by date of stage 3 has come, September 15. High time to head back east, or I might be late in reaching New York.

Fourth stage: across Canada

Fifth stage: "upstate" New York

Epilogue