The Six Thousand Mile Entry

Photos

Shenandoah National Park and the Blue Ridge Mountains, VA
The 100 mile scenic route (that took $50,000 per mile to build in the 1930s) through the park was actually something of a disappointment. Whilst intrinsically beautiful (especially with the light dusting of autumn's first mustard leaves littering the road), it paled in comparison with the geological madness of Utah; the rocky, green mountains of Colorado; Lake Tahoe's serene sandy simplicity and Route 101's sheer sensory onslaught. Somewhat miffed, we left the scenic route prematurely and headed to D.C.


Washington, D.C.
Upon entering the city we were saluted by the Washington monument (it was pleased to see us) and met with a criss-crossing mess of one way streets that bash you around like a gigantic pinball machine. We ricocheted into the bar we had been aiming for, where we met our allotted couchsurfer (thoroughly inebriated and brandishing a pool-cue). After a sound, drunken flaying at pool (as usual) we finished our beers, licked our wounds and headed back to squabble over the couch. 


The next day we took the metro to town, sucked down a delicious Chop't salad (that came in an industrial bucket) and waddled down the mall, salad-filled bellies wagging in front of us. Catching sight of a large and ornamental white building we quipped "Gee, I wonder what that is?". We wandered round it, taking photos and wondering a) how far you would get if you attempted to single-handedly storm the building (not far on distended salad-bellies) and b) how quickly it was possible to get arrested and consequently c) what concrete tastes of. We continued down the mall, admiring the proud and simple Washington monument, the fancy but sobering WWII monument, the reflecting pool (somewhat clouded and fouled by the gallons of ducks and their accompaniments) and Abe Lincoln, sitting nobly on his chair amidst great stone walls and between speeches of great solemnity and occasion. We then caught sight of another large, white, ornamental building with an even greater dusting of tourists than the last one. Hmm. This turned out to be the White House, and the earlier building the Capitol Building. It even had written all over it "Capitol Building", which we somehow managed to ignore. Slightly humbled, we took our photos and slunk away, keeping a weather eye out for Obama just in case we could high-five him.


We met with Ashley the couchsurfer again and, hungry for another serving of utter defeat at the hands of the pool shark, returned to her bar. In the morning we cooked English breakfast by way of thanks and headed into town to see the legendary Air & Space Museum. Washington was chock-full of historical buildings, exhibits, monuments, museums and institutions, and it would be very easy to spend a long time there simply soaking in knowledge and history. Washington itself has struggled with a reputation for crime and violence, but it is believed to be outgrowing those days as money and gentrification is ladled out around its districts and suburbs. To us it appeared a well-organised (as long as you don't try to drive in it), clean and well-to-do place. Probably a little too serious and "grown-up" to be a really fun place to live, unless you are a serious and grown-up person.


New York City, NY
We knew better than to attempt driving in New York. As Phillip J. Fry once observed "Nobody drove in New York; there was too much traffic". So we stuck to the outskirts, started our run in Staten Island, put away our targeting computers and aimed for Queens. Immediately on entering the city limits a storm of traffic blew up and froze us where we were, forcing us to plough through the sticky metal mess no faster than an aphid might plough treacle. After making it to our couchsurfers in Queens (a computer programmer and a cake decorator) we jumped on an express bus and went downtown. Instantly we were swept up into the flowing hustle-and-bustle of Manhattan that carried us past the Empire State Building (although we were initially unsure, not wanting to repeat our mistake with the Capitol Building) and directy into a pizza shop as a fierce storm broke overhead and lashed the city with rain and phenomenally loud lightning that blasted up and down the flooded streets. Whilst wrapping our jaws around meat calzones, a tornado warning was issued over the radio, warning people to get inside. The rain eased off as quickly as it came, and we stepped back into the sloshing torrents of people, sweeping us through Grand Central Station (both grand and central, very nice), Central Park (big, green, damp and hard to get out of as all the roads lead subtley back to the middle), Broadway (glitzy and neon, but bizarrely not over-the-top; a different animal from Vegas) and Times Square (which would be better named as Times Triangles).


In the evening we queued for our bus as the rain started up again, amidst literally hundreds of people. Thinking nothing more of it, we sat and waited, eventually asking a passing bus driver whether our bus was running. He told us that tornadoes had unleashed their fury on Queens and Brooklyn, throwing down trees all over the place and playing complete havoc with electricity and power. He told us what he told the other people: the bus could be hours, get on his bus free of charge due to the circumstances and he'd take care of us. He was an interesting, softly spoken man that reminded us a lot of "the good cop" in Batman Begins. As we slowly made the next stops, many people came on asking questions, to which the answers were bellowed merrily by the passengers. It took 4 hours to make the 40 minute journey back to our neighbourhood in Queens, finally getting there at 2am. It might sound odd, but in terms of experiencing NY culture, a natural disaster was excellent. We have all heard of the legendary NY blackouts of the past, where stranded people congregated in the streets, warmed and comforted by vendors giving away food and hot drinks in the time of crisis. We were lucky enough to experience that same legendary NY solidarity that evening - the people truly banding together and looking out for one another as much as they could in a crisis affecting most of the city. The worst traffic jam in over 7 years and we were there!


We awoke lazily (what's new?) the next day, and disengaged the mental cat from Mark's face. We took the metro into town (the traffic still being bad) and then the free ferry to Staten Island (after a delicious smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel...oh my) so we could gawp at Lady Liberty on the way over. She didn't disappoint. We took in Wall Street (extremely unremarkable, not even punctuated by the anguished cries of ruined bankers) and Ground Zero. Looking at the emptied space in the skyline and the foundations of a new building, it was hard to really grasp the extent and true meaning of the attack that took place there. Finally, we grabbed a cup of "cwoffee" and a slice of NY cheesecake, then headed back to the couch. We ate Chinese dinner with our very interesting hosts, and met their eclectic friends including a greek google programmer (Us: "So when will google take over the world?" Him: "You are using the wrong tense") and a librarian/professor of Spanish literature.


Ithaca, NY
Ithaca is a gentle and quiet place, with a chill and a scent in the evening air and a discrete flow of Ithaca and Cornell students throughout the town. A reserved and pleasant place. We met with our couchsurfer Jessica (and her 5 housemates, all girls, all drama students...go figure) and went out for a few beers. The next day we struck out for Niagara Falls.


Niagara Falls, ON
We initially planned to stay on the U.S. side of the border with Canada, but due to recommendations/damnations by the Lonely Planet and the fact that the American falls are lame in comparison to Canada's Horsehoe falls, we braved the aggressive and humourless border guards and crossed over. We checked into a hostel and walked down to witness one of the world's great spectacles, anticipating a burger and beer overlooking nature's arena. Unfortunately, Niagara town was an exploited wreck of hotels, casinos and hard rock cafes, with absolutely zero charm, if not less. We returned in awe of the falls, but with unsatisfied stomachs. Taking the car to find the nearest supermarket Joe backed into another car, giving it the "iron kiss". Joe claimed "I didn't bother looking; I assumed I was too good a driver to crash like this". Luckily it wasn't serious - just a small area of paint missing, a mildly popped panel and an incensed German. We smoothed it over and went out in search of Graham crackers and Hershey's chocolate so we could make Smores using our infeasibly vast bag of marsmallows. Mark sharpened his French on some of the hostel's clientele and Joe set fire to marshmallows.

The next day we took one last driving tour of the falls, didn't see Caroline Dhavernas (much to our abject and total disappointment) and headed back to the border, where Joe put on an Australian accent ("We're from the United Kingdom, maiiite", claiming all he would need to do was "brazen it out".

The End
We returned to Ithaca, where we toasted our trip and reminisced about the good times. The last day was spent de-packing The Steed and re-packing bags. Mark took The Steed to Syracuse to catch his flight the next day (forgetting the plane tickets he was so insistent on printing that morning) and Joe waved a tearful goodbye from Jessica's porch.

The Future
Joe will next be heading to New York to meet with his dear esteemed Grandmother and begin the next adventure. Mark returns home to prepare and commence his Earth Systems Science PhD at Reading University.

Total mileage: 6500 miles.
States visited: Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Arkansas, Tenessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia, D.C., Maryland, New Jersey, New York, Ontario.

Biggest smile: The obscurity of Kansas.
Biggest regret: Not enough time.

This officially concludes the First Great American Adventure. Thank you for following.