Vermont in April
Beaver Dam
The effects of Tropical Storm Irene can still be seen on the trail. We've had to walk around searching for the trail a few times. There are a lot of trees down and a few wash outs. The section underwater, in the photo, was caused by a beaver dam, though.
I think Red and I are the first Long Trail hikers out here this year. The volunteers won't even be out for a few weeks to get the trail ready for the season. We got a few snowflakes yesterday too. I don't expect to see many other hikers out here. Potentially being one of the first to complete the Long Trail this year will make up for being one of the last to finish the AT last year.
I think Red and I are the first Long Trail hikers out here this year. The volunteers won't even be out for a few weeks to get the trail ready for the season. We got a few snowflakes yesterday too. I don't expect to see many other hikers out here. Potentially being one of the first to complete the Long Trail this year will make up for being one of the last to finish the AT last year.
Red at Congdon Shelter
After a few lazy months getting out of shape, and then doing a 15 mile day on the AT, I was happy to see our first shelter. It was more than being done for the day that made it a great sight to see. I realized just how much I missed the feel and smell of an AT shelter. I feel even more at home here than I do back home in Indiana. It was a cold night though. We hitched into Bennington, VT today where I picked up a $4 fleece jacket at Goodwill. It looks like it will warm up a bit soon.
The Long Trail
Route 66 Day 18: The End of the Road
We reached the end of Route 66 at the Santa Monica Pier three weeks ago. We packed so much into this trip and I took way too many photos to keep it up-to-date. Getting to the end of Route 66, however, was only half our journey. The ride back home was just as memorable and filled with nine more national park visits.
I will post photos from those days when I'm back in civilization. I dropped Liv off back home in Kentucky and after spending a few days on the farm with her and Sixgun, I drove to New York City to pick up Red.
I will post photos from those days when I'm back in civilization. I dropped Liv off back home in Kentucky and after spending a few days on the farm with her and Sixgun, I drove to New York City to pick up Red.
Red and I are now headed to the southern terminus of Vermont's Long Trail. It is a 273-mile trail that spans from the borders of Massachusetts and Canada. This will also cover the section of the AT in Vermont that was closed during Hurricane Irene. I'll post our progress and stories along the way.
To Liv, thanks for quitting your job and sharing yet another great adventure with me. I hope there are more to come.
A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a
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Route 66 Day 17: Joshua Tree National Park
She beat me to the bottom and by the time I got down I forgot she said that. I waited by the car for a little while then walked around to look for her. I had no idea where she went and wondered if she took a wrong turn coming down. But then I heard a familiar whistle coming from the top of this giant rock. A whistle we used on the AT if we couldn't find each other. I whistled back, she whistled again, so I could hone in on where she was. I looked up and saw this. She's a woman of her word.
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Route 66 Days 15 and 16: Slab City
We drove all evening to get to Slab City in Southern California. Slab City isn't on any maps. It's not actually a city either. It's a WWII Marine barracks that was abandoned and bulldozed by the government leaving a grid of concrete slabs. Today it's a free place to stay for any RVer, drifter, or refugee from society that doesn't mind living under a hot sun in the Colorado Desert.
All I knew is it was 3.5 miles from Niland, California. We knew this because Liv just read the copy of 'Into the Wild' in my car, the book about Chris McCandless, who spent some time in Slab City. While on the AT, Liv and I talked briefly about someday coming here to "live on the cheap under the sun", so this was a necessary stop for us.With Liv asleep in the passenger seat, I sat in the car on the side of the road looking over our map and flipping through the 'Into the Wild' book to find more clues to where this place might be. A border patrol officer pulled over to see if we needed help. The idea of land that anyone is allowed to live on for free seems so unimaginable in the US, that when I told the cop I was looking for Slab City, I half expected him to say, "Get out of our town hippies... and get a job!". He gave us directions instead.
It was too dark to see much of Slab City on our first night. There are no streetlights, or electricity, or any other municipal services for that matter. We found a spot to park under the starry sky and waited for morning to explore the area.
When the sun came up we pulled out of our spot to visit Salvation Mountain and take a drive to the Salton Sea, but apparently the most solid place to park a car in the desert is not on a series of tunnels left by some burrowing desert mammal. Our tires sank into the loose dirt and sand. We piled flat rocks under the tires to give us traction, but the more we tried to get out the more we sank until the bottom of the car was nearly resting on the ground.
There's a comradery with those that live at "The Slabs". Within minutes four people were there helping us out. I got the impression that a tight-knit community existed here who took care of each other. Driving through, you may just see a post-apocalyptic looking ramshackle of worn-out RVs, tents, trailers, or other pieced-together homemade dwellings, but there are good people here. People that have learned to live a happy life with only the bare necessities. And it's nice to know that if you need a place to stay, you can always go to Slabs. I may be back here some day.
After hiking to the Salton Sea, we took a walk to Salvation Mountain, a colorful art installation made of straw, telephone poles, adobe clay, car doors, and hundreds of gallons of multi-colored paint. A man named Leonard Knight transformed this small patch of drab brown landscape next to Slab City into a colorful eye-catching message of Love. I really hoped to meet Leonard, who can be seen in the movie 'Into the Wild', but in December he was placed in a long-term care facility for dementia. We roamed inside and on top of the massive art project, then found a place to car camp on solid ground for our second night.
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Route 66 Day 14: Arizona's Scenic Byway
On day 14, we drove toward California along the Arizona section of the National Scenic Byway, also part of Route 66. This section makes me wonder if the Interstates were such a great idea.
We passed through the small town of Oatman and were surprised to see wild burros roaming freely downtown. Every store sells carrots or burro-chow, but we disappointed the one that stuck his face in a food-less car. Oatman is called the ghost town that wouldn't die, and I can't think of a better way to describe it. It had a sort of boom in population after two gold prospectors struck it rich there in 1915. After that, they kept the town afloat by catering to Route 66 travelers. The scenic road into town seems to be the only thing keeping it going today. This was one of the best stretches of road on Route 66, so far.This was our last day in Arizona. That afternoon we crossed into the Mojave Desert and Southern California.
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Route 66 Day 13: Grand Canyon
When I told Liv to run out on that rock, so I could get a better photo, I was being sarcastic. But the girl loves a challenge. Next thing I know she was halfway out there. I could hear tourists murmuring about that crazy girl climbing on the rocks. I'm not sure if I was more impressed or nervous.
Our day started with a hike to Sunset Volcanic Crater and a visit to the ruins at Wupatki National Monument. Our visit to the Grand Canyon was cut short by an approaching blizzard. At the gate, we were told one to two feet of snow was on the way. We decided to get to lower elevation and warmer weather in Southern California.
Our day started with a hike to Sunset Volcanic Crater and a visit to the ruins at Wupatki National Monument. Our visit to the Grand Canyon was cut short by an approaching blizzard. At the gate, we were told one to two feet of snow was on the way. We decided to get to lower elevation and warmer weather in Southern California.
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Route 66 Day 12: Petrified Forest
On day 12 we went to the Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest National Park, in Northeastern Arizona. Like every park we visited, the Petrified Forest ended up being better than we imagined. The best feature was the lack of crowds.
After viewing the Painted Desert from the rim and looking at numerous petroglyphs, we hiked alone from the top of Blue Mesa on a winding trail while looking for pieces of petrified wood scattered near the trail. This ended up being one of our favorite national park stops.
After viewing the Painted Desert from the rim and looking at numerous petroglyphs, we hiked alone from the top of Blue Mesa on a winding trail while looking for pieces of petrified wood scattered near the trail. This ended up being one of our favorite national park stops.
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Route 66 Day 11: The Very Large Array
On day 11 we drove west of Socorro, New Mexico to see the Very Large Array radio astronomy observatory. If you know either of us, you know this was my choice and not Liv's.
Numerous discoveries about the universe have been made using these telescopes. Also the movie Contact was filmed here, one of my favorite movies. I'm a nerd. If you were unsure before, now you know. The truck pictured was coming toward us as we were trespassing to get better photos. The guy just nodded at me as he passed. I nodded back. I think there was a kind of nerdly understanding between us.
Numerous discoveries about the universe have been made using these telescopes. Also the movie Contact was filmed here, one of my favorite movies. I'm a nerd. If you were unsure before, now you know. The truck pictured was coming toward us as we were trespassing to get better photos. The guy just nodded at me as he passed. I nodded back. I think there was a kind of nerdly understanding between us.
The night before, we drove up rough roads to a ghost town near the small town of Magdalena, NM. The bumpy road caused my exhaust pipe to break. We found a saloon across the street from the only mechanic in town, who was closed for the night. We spent the evening having drinks and playing pool, Liv beat me again of course. Afterwards we slept in the car and waited for the mechanic's garage to open. He didn't have time to fix it that morning, so I tied it up with some wire and continued to the VLA in a loud muffler-less car rumbling down the highway. We eventually found a mechanic in Socorro who fixed it for twenty-seven bucks. Now that I look back on it, I'm really glad that pipe broke. I have fond memories of our time in Magdalena. I'm learning that when things go wrong, it can be even better than when they go as planned.
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Route 66 Day 10: White Sands
In the Southern New Mexico desert lies a 273-mile stretch of perfectly white gypsum sand dunes called White Sands National Monument.
We bought a sled and hiked to the tallest and steepest dune we could find. Occasionally, we heard explosions not too far off in the distance. Apparently, the White Sands Missile Range is still active. After an afternoon of sledding, laying in the sun, and tossing the football around, we got back on the road and headed north to rejoin Route 66.
We bought a sled and hiked to the tallest and steepest dune we could find. Occasionally, we heard explosions not too far off in the distance. Apparently, the White Sands Missile Range is still active. After an afternoon of sledding, laying in the sun, and tossing the football around, we got back on the road and headed north to rejoin Route 66.
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Route 66 Day 9: Carlsbad Caverns
On the ninth day we hiked over 750 feet underground into Carlsbad Caverns. This was the first of several national parks on our agenda.
As we descended into the cavern, Liv and I debated whether or not this would be a good place to wait out the eventual Zombie Apocalypse. I was obviously on the pro side, but Liv won the debate by pointing out that if we were being chased by zombies the last place she would want to go is some scary-ass dark hole in the ground. I had no counter-argument.
That being said, we loved Carlsbad Caverns. I've seen caves and caverns before, but what makes Carlsbad in itself worthy of the drive from Indiana is its immensity. The end of our hike down took us into the limestone chamber they call the "Big Room". Aptly named since it is the largest room in the cavern at 8.2 acres (or nearly 4,000 feet long, 625 feet wide, and 255 feet high at the highest point.)
As we descended into the cavern, Liv and I debated whether or not this would be a good place to wait out the eventual Zombie Apocalypse. I was obviously on the pro side, but Liv won the debate by pointing out that if we were being chased by zombies the last place she would want to go is some scary-ass dark hole in the ground. I had no counter-argument.
That being said, we loved Carlsbad Caverns. I've seen caves and caverns before, but what makes Carlsbad in itself worthy of the drive from Indiana is its immensity. The end of our hike down took us into the limestone chamber they call the "Big Room". Aptly named since it is the largest room in the cavern at 8.2 acres (or nearly 4,000 feet long, 625 feet wide, and 255 feet high at the highest point.)
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Route 66 Day 8: Desert Road
A few miles from Carlsbad, we turned onto a quiet desert road to car camp for the night. I drove slowly over the rough dirt road next to a natural gas pipeline until we were high above the highway and, more or less, out of sight. It was a night of tossing a football on parched cactus-laden grounds, sitting on camp chairs with our heads turned to the stars while sipping cold beers from a cooler, and watching the sunset turn a desolate brown landscape into one filled with vivid colors.
Route 66 Day 8: Roswell
We entered New Mexico and decided to get off Route 66 for a couple days and drive south to Carlsbad Caverns. Roswell was on the way, so we stopped. I'm not sure why I wanted to see it, since I find no reasons to believe space aliens crashed there, but that doesn't keep the town from profiting on it. Even the local McDonalds has a big flying saucer sticking out the sides. I'm not sure what I expected, but I discovered that Roswell is a lot like other tourist attraction towns, only without an attraction.
Route 66 Day 7: Cadillac Ranch
The weather turned gloomy and rainy all day. The one highlight was spotting Cadillac Ranch, a row of 10 Cadillacs buried nose first in the ground just passed Amarillo, Texas on Route 66. The cars are coated in thick layers of spray paint from years of passers by contributing to the art project. Liv found a half empty can of yellow spray paint on the ground and tag a car with "Webos to Cali". Webos being the word we coined for Westbound 66ers.
Route 66 Day Six: Palo Duro Canyon
First, it's starting to seem strange using the name Thumper, now that we're not using trail names on the Appalachian Trail. So from now on, you'll hear me calling Thumper by her real name, Liv (short for Olivia). Besides, I can't think of a more perfect name for someone so determined to live an adventurous life.
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| Liv climbing to the top of Coppertone |
It was an beautiful hike and the weather was perfect. We climbed from the canyon floor to the base of Lighthouse Peak, and then to the top of Coppertone. This is what we were waiting for, getting west and out of the car to hike in some amazing places.
Click on the photos below to enlarge them.
Click on the photos below to enlarge them.
A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a
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Route 66 Day Six: The Old Highway
Eighty percent of the decommissioned Route 66 still exists in some form or another, but you won’t find much of it in a road atlas. Most of the miles are paved over and going by a different name now. Some became country roads where the original Route 66 pavement still peaks through gravel and dirt. Some of the miles are now Farm-to-Market roads and a good chunk is now a service road for Interstate 40. Although it's true that the Interstate is faster, in better condition, and doesn’t take you into every town between you and your destination, if I have to get on the Interstate for a few miles, I’m anxious to get back to the old Route 66.
The car was quiet other than the hum of the rough pavement under the tires. Thumper was reading a book. I was daydreaming while looking out at the line of traffic on Interstate 40. So many cars, yet I was the only one on Route 66 as far as I could see. With all the advantages of an Interstate, I tried to think of why I prefer the old road. Why, after hundreds of miles, have I almost developed an emotional attachment to it? I tried to come up with a comparison to explain the difference and thought of old weather-beaten barns. New barns have their advantages too, but they never make me want to pull my car off to the side of the road, grab my camera, and walk across a muddy field to take pictures of it.
This reminded me of when I went to visit the girls in Kentucky before this trip began. While I sped down Route 66 and stared out at the long stretch of bumpy two-lane highway, I thought about Thumper giving me a tour of their farm. We went into a barn that had sunlight shining through the cracks between the siding. We climbed onto a stack of hay bales and sat while she told stories of growing up on the farm. Like the old barn, the old highway has a history. I think that’s why I prefer it. The old road has stories. It's not just for getting from point A to point B. Traveling on it adds to your life's experiences. The way it resides in our fond memories, it almost seems like a living thing. For lack of a better word, Route 66 has a soul.
Suddenly, I noticed the road change up ahead. I was speeding along at sixty miles per hour then slammed on my breaks. My tires skidded a few yards on the chipped and crumbling highway. Thumper dropped her book to her lap and drew back into her seat. The road’s pavement came to an abrupt end and turned to gravel, grass, and bumpy tire tracks sunken into the soil from previous Sixty-sixers sliding to a stop and U-turning. We laughed at the situation while adrenaline increased our heart rate and turned our legs to jelly. We tried to see if we could continue in the Honda, but they weren’t exactly built for off-road.
I turned the car around and we had another Route 66 story to add to our list. I continued my drive to Amarillo, TX on Interstate 40, but at the next chance I got, I pulled back on the old beaten down road ready to see what else it might throw our way.
The car was quiet other than the hum of the rough pavement under the tires. Thumper was reading a book. I was daydreaming while looking out at the line of traffic on Interstate 40. So many cars, yet I was the only one on Route 66 as far as I could see. With all the advantages of an Interstate, I tried to think of why I prefer the old road. Why, after hundreds of miles, have I almost developed an emotional attachment to it? I tried to come up with a comparison to explain the difference and thought of old weather-beaten barns. New barns have their advantages too, but they never make me want to pull my car off to the side of the road, grab my camera, and walk across a muddy field to take pictures of it.
This reminded me of when I went to visit the girls in Kentucky before this trip began. While I sped down Route 66 and stared out at the long stretch of bumpy two-lane highway, I thought about Thumper giving me a tour of their farm. We went into a barn that had sunlight shining through the cracks between the siding. We climbed onto a stack of hay bales and sat while she told stories of growing up on the farm. Like the old barn, the old highway has a history. I think that’s why I prefer it. The old road has stories. It's not just for getting from point A to point B. Traveling on it adds to your life's experiences. The way it resides in our fond memories, it almost seems like a living thing. For lack of a better word, Route 66 has a soul.
Suddenly, I noticed the road change up ahead. I was speeding along at sixty miles per hour then slammed on my breaks. My tires skidded a few yards on the chipped and crumbling highway. Thumper dropped her book to her lap and drew back into her seat. The road’s pavement came to an abrupt end and turned to gravel, grass, and bumpy tire tracks sunken into the soil from previous Sixty-sixers sliding to a stop and U-turning. We laughed at the situation while adrenaline increased our heart rate and turned our legs to jelly. We tried to see if we could continue in the Honda, but they weren’t exactly built for off-road.
I turned the car around and we had another Route 66 story to add to our list. I continued my drive to Amarillo, TX on Interstate 40, but at the next chance I got, I pulled back on the old beaten down road ready to see what else it might throw our way.
A Backpacker's Life List by Ryan Grayson is licensed under a
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Route 66 Day Five: The Blue Whale
The eighty foot Blue Whale in Catoosa, Oklahoma is easily one of the most recognizable attractions on old Route 66. You can't miss it from the road. We arrived late, after it was closed to the public, so if we were going to spend the night inside of it, we had to be stealthy. And of course, we had to spend the night in it.

The Blue Whale was built in the early seventies to draw visitors to the swimming hole. It closed in 1988.
The highway is only a few dozen yards from the whale and the property owner was in an RV close by with his light still on. We went to a couple bars in town and had a few drinks and played lots of pool. At 2 AM, we went back. We parked at a 24-hour grocery store a few blocks away then grabbed our sleeping bags. The light was still on in the RV, so we had to sneak quietly passed the Closed signs, and into the mouth of the whale.
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