Monday 26 May 2008

Portland

Portland is a quality joint. Much more my kind of place than the other west coast cities i'd been to - Seattle and Vancouver - a very liveable place. although the blistering sunshine definitely shrouded my judgement. The place definitely had a smattering of cool districts in which to hang. Hawthorne Boulevard, the Pearl District, the North Alberta street area and the Alphabet District all provided stimulating street life and cool hipster hangouts.

Unlike Vancouver, the urban landscape was pretty unimpressive as was its recent attempts at densification but at ground level it really shone. Incredible greenery gave life to the 'sidewalks' while the architecture was tasteful in the extreme.

Circumstances on my arrival dictated entirely the terms of my stay in Portland. As per fucking usual, I sent out my couch surfing requests at the 13th hour. So I spent much of the first day hanging around, and squandering my money in, Backspace Internet Cafe (although the beautiful soup and fine espresso boosted my mood somewhat).

In a state of desperation I had sent out a few more requests (had since found out that all the hostels were full and I would have to stay in some gammy hotel - disastrous), one of which to my eternal surprise was replied to almost immediately by Ivy. The tone of the reply sounded a bit tetchy but i had a couch. Happy days. Anyway, I have skin thick enough to ride out any such situation !

When I arrived at her gaff (which also contained Nick, Simon and their daughter Linsey) I realised I couldn't have been more wrong. She is a tribute to couchsurfing, a modern day Florence Nightingale !! Her profile claimed to "shelter the couchless, feed the weary traveler and impart vino to the thirsty". She was true to her words. As she said herself to her friends 'if you want to restore your faith in humanity, try couchsurfing'. Well she certainly does.

I had only intended to stay for a night but i ended up there for five. We got on really well. Sound girl. On the saturday I joined all the housemates at the Clackamas Whitewater Festival for a camping trip. There we met up with Chris and Greg - a good friend of Ivy's and one seriously funny guy. I left Portland for Eugene on the tuesday. Ivy and her friend Gerard decided to join me. We failed to locate couches for the night but Gerard opted to chauffeur the three of us and his dog Mr B in his eh.....fucking school bus !!


That a way to travel ! easily the coolest mode of transport i have ever taken. Them were one funky set of wheels. He bought it for a mere $800 to use for his friends stag party. its class inside too. took out all the seats and put in a wooden floor and surround sound. there's also a couch bed and a coffee table !


We picked up three scruffy hitchers who had been jumping the freight trains around the country. I then said my goodbyes and caught the Coast Starlight bound for San Francisco - a city for which i have very fond memories.

Glacier National Park

Myself and Brian caught a few more rides and made it to West Glacier where we established our base in the less than impressive 'campground' - a package holiday for people in R.V.'s. It certainly didn't match the tranquility of camping 'au natural' as I had managed in other places.


Glacier was very nice. We explored Lake McDonald and the numerous trails that surrounded. While it was visually very impressive it didn't quite have the same effect on me as Olympic National Park in Washington had. Maybe it was the more user friendly nature of the place which seemed to attract the a lot of holiday makes rather than hard-core trekkers. Thank fuck I wasn't here in July when its supposed to be crawling with people.


We caught the train out of there to a phenomenal sunset. One which fully encapsulated and illuminated Montana's 'Big Sky' reputation. They really do seem to have a colossal sky there. The sunset spread itself and hogged the entire skyline. At Whitefish, the train stopped for 20 minutes. I bade my farewell to Brian, who id spent the past week with. I then pegged it with all my might to grab a few cans of Pabst for the journey. I arrived back to find i had a new traveling mate for the journey. Gineen was headin out to Oregon to visit her son, we had a good laugh for the remainder of the train ride.

I was awoken by the rising sun at about six in the morn, to the rays splaying themselves across the Columbia River. It was an extremely pleasant way of disturbing my final hours of sleep. Mt Hood was majestic and will hardly have looked better in the usually more mundane Oregon weather.

Thursday 22 May 2008

Montana

After a pretty sleepless yet very enjoyable journey I rolled into Whitefish in the state of Montana. I was in a bit of a daze considering the hour of the morning it was but i was fuckin so sure I was walking around Rockridge on the set of Blazzing Saddles. If I've ever seen a cardboard cut out town this was it.

On my trip I've basically planned it so id spend the early parts of the week in the wilderness and the weekends in the urban mixer so i set off hitching to Missoula - a chilled college town in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. I met Brian my couch surfing host in the middle of the campus. My timing was perfect, he lived in a house of 5 lads, all of whom had just finished the summer exams and were facing down the barrel of easy street. They had a quality pad, which acted as a drop in point for many and was the location for some serious spontaneous jamming sessions.

My first night saw my introduction to new phenomenon - 'Happy Thursday' - a Colorado initiated Bike Parade - http://tribes.tribe.net/happythursday. We formed an army of cyclists and hit the streets wishing all and sundry a eh.. happy thursday. It was a bit surreal but a great laugh. Although the little beer breaks did help.

The lads were all well sound and Missoula was a cool joint in an beautiful setting surrounded by the Rockies on all sides. I was due to head back up to Glacier National Park on the monday and Brian decided he'd join me which was welcomed by myself. A spooning partner never goes astray on a camping trip !

Hitching as a duo was far less facilitating than when i was alone. After struggling for a fair while, we made it as far as Flathead Lake where after standing in the pissing rain for an hour, we sought solace and a haven in the Raleigh Bar and Grill outside Polson. Again, humanity earned itself more faith when the waitress talked her boss into allowing us to camp on the grounds of his establishment, which so happened to face out onto the majestic lake.

The next morning presented a jaw droppingly beautiful lake blanketed by mist and hemmed in by the snow-topped mountains. We were also greeted by the Po-Po (the polsom po-lice) who had been called out on the report of two vagrants spoiling the wonderful scenery. Real redneck fuckers too they were but we sorted it.

Hitching out of Missoula had been our first encounter with 'the Injuns'. It was only after the fourth time that I was asked where I was from that I really clicked that the guy was ball-bagged. His previous rendition of an old Sioux chant at the top of his voice had done little to arouse my suspicions. His time was up when all of a sudden he decided to cut right across the road and as we were bundling down some dirt track we inquired as to what the fuck he was doing. "We're going fishing boys, Yeeeeooooh" was his retort. We intimated that our time was pressing but he said it would only take 10 minutes. I asked him was intending to use dynamite for bait. He stopped to talk to some young lad for a bit and so the opportunity was ripe to bail. We done a bunk and headed back for the main road. An interesting ride it had been.

We were then picked up by two lovely middle-aged and completely sober Native American women who told us that the road we were on - Highway 93 - had the highest fatality rate in the US. 1 death a week, majority of which were head-on's. Stickers are sold saying "Pray for me, I drive 93".

Another lift we got was from a 50+ brother just back from I-raq. Going by the name of Coleman ( "when you take of all your clothes, yo cole-man" which we found hilarious !) he was a driving one of these massive Mac trucks across the country. So we rode with him in the cab as he regaled and enlightened us with his opinions and experiences. It was interesting to hear from a guy who had the same conclusions about the US and politics as us but learned from his life experiences while ours from the comfort of a university education.

Wednesday 21 May 2008

Trains, Boats and Planes

While most of my journeys to date were taken by boat or by thumbing, I commenced a new chapter of my trip by purchasing a 30 day Amtrak Rail Pass. All of the backpackers I have met to date have been riding the Greyhound buses. God only know why. I'm not a fan of bus travel at the best of times but Greyhound just takes the piss. The prospect of sitting next to a fresh-out-of-prison ex con for a 12 hour overnighter would do nothing for me.

Although I must admit that I have a bit of a thing for rail travel. In fact it was one of the main reasons for my coming to the States. Rather than traveling down mundane highways with only 'gas stations' and McDonalds for scenery, the train slices right through the heart of the fantastic natural beauty that America possesses.

The Yanks are getting into a real state about oil prices. I mean they are getting really fucked off with it. You don't mess with an American and their vehicle. Here the car is sacrosanct, its practically in the constitution. Never before has their right to drive been threatened so much. So in a perverse way, the environment is inadvertantly coming onto the political agenda again, purely because its hitting the pockets of everyone, and doing so in style. I have to remind them that they've been getting the shit for nothing all along anyway. They have started to realise that car usage has peaked. In some ways this may be the only thing that will save Amtrak here (highly subsidised and threatened with extinction for years).

Much to my amazement, I found Amtrak trains to be far more luxurious than their European counter-parts. The seats are designed to absorb the gigantic asses of Fat America and are more spacious than the ones you get in first class on a plane. If train seats were this size in China, they'd probably throw their entire family and their three goats into one seat.

The scenery leaving Seattle was fabulous as the train cut through the Cascade Mountain range before the sun went down and I tucked into my 6 pack .........

Monday 19 May 2008

Seattle

After two nights of freezing my nads off in my tent, the queen-sized bed at the Green Tortoise was a welcome change. Seattle is famous to many as being the home of Starbucks, Amazon, Boeing and Microsoft, among others but for me 'it is all about the music'. From '92 to late '94 - when Noel Gallagher entered my life, my music collection was purely Grunge and almost entirely Seattle influenced. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Mudhoney and Soundgarden washed down with a strong dose of Jimi. It was cool to stroll through Belltown, the area where the scene began.


Todays scene is based on Capitol Hill where the liberal west coast-itis is found. Cool cafe's, bars and thrift stores where all the cool kids hang out. much better than Vancouver's Commercial Drive but still no Haight-Ashbury.

Seattle also saw my baptism into the wonderful world of couch surfing - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Couch_surfing
Such a wonderful idea yet such a simple one webbing together the global network of backpackers and rescuing us from the evil clutches of Hosteling International's (HI) butchering of independent travel.

Myself and three french lasses were hosted by John (Delp) a real cool lad who divides his time between the kitchen of the restaurant that he runs and playing the diverse range of zany musical instruments he has procured over the years. So easy going a guy that he was, that he stayed with his girlfriend and left his home to the four of us for the night. Ridiculous really.

Monday 12 May 2008

Into the Wild

I was lacking serious conviction in my aspirations to visit Olympic National Park mainly due to the lack of acclaim that others had bestowed upon it. Buoyed by another reasonable weather report I decided to go for it. What a rewarding decision it proved to be. Brian dropped me at Lake Cresent where I failed to locate the 'informal campground' that I had been told about. In the process of searching for it, I happened upon one of the most beautiful scenes I've seen in a long time. A remarkable vista of the tranquil lake with the late evening streams of sunlight bouncing off the ripple-less water.



I cooked my dinner and sat there soaking up this riveting moment. While the independence of traveling alone provided me with the great experiences I had at the hostel in Vancouver and hitching for the past week, it is not a process devoid of the negative. To be honest I would have preferred to have one or two of my pals with me but what about it.


Lying alone in my tent, freezing my ass off, in the middle of the deep forest, unable to sleep for the fear of bears (who are very common and pretty dangerous) with only my measly new swiss army knife as protection I was cursing my choice to travel alone! The following night I remedied my insomnia with a 6 pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon.

So on monday night I sailed into the Bright City Lights of Seattle.............

Off the Grid (ii)

It was really strange to be able to sail down to the States from Victoria. Kinda reminiscent of all the irish people arriving into Ellis Island all those years ago. Getting into the country was far less arduous than I'd anticipated. Not a rubber glove in sight and a very pleasant immigration officer. All the more surprising given that me and Homeland Security got history !

Having missed the last bus out of Port Angeles, I was once again forced to use the thumb. While everyone had assured me that hitching on Vancouver Island was a doddle, everything i heard about doing it in the States was quite the opposite. Maybe American paranoia, maybe not. Nonetheless, I had no choice in the matter. Once again with despair setting in, and I situated on Highway 101 with cars flaking past, Lady Luck/Karma Police shone down on me as Brian with the dogs rescued me. Not only did he provide great campany, he drove me far past where he was meant to go. I had arrived in Olympic National Park (more on that later).

My next encounter with hitching came on the monday morning. Trying to leave Sol Duc Hot Springs, Chris and Meg took pity on me. Once again a wonderful experience was had. Hoping merely to get to the main road, I ended up spending the entire day with them and they dropped me at the doorstep for the ferry I was to catch to Seattle. They introduced me to their great habit of crashing wine tasting venues. Class.



We then found a nice brewhouse where we filled our empty stomachs. If dropping me direct to the ferry, finding me a place to crash in Chicago and trying to entice me to their place in Olympia wasn't enough, they insisted on paying for my meal. Ridiculous generosity and very humbling.

That summed up my hitching experience. Initial, trepidation replaced by extremely warm experiences and heart lifting generosity. Also a great sense of solidarity and responsibility from other erstwhile hitch hikers. I am not naive enough to expect all hitching experiences to be rosy so I am soon embarking on a new transport option - the train.

Thursday 8 May 2008

Off the Grid (i)

I took a ferry to Vancouver Island which unveiled some surprisingly amazing scenery reminiscent of what i'd imagine you'd find in New Zealand or Norway.





With the irregularity and expense of the bus service I'd said i'd chance hitching out to Tofino. And so started a wonderful week of great scenery and extremely generous people. Tofino is the surf capital of Canada but is extremely isolated, at the edge of a rain forest and only has one road accessing it.


I got picked up before i'd even started thumbing and overall it was a relatively straightforward experience. A few rides later (one from a wheel chair-bound old lady; talk about perceptions...) and i got collected by George in Port Alberni. He was going all the way to Tofino - sweet ! We stopped off at all the hot-spots along the way - amazing scenery all over Vancouver Island. If that wasn't enough, he insisted that crash in his place and he gave me his campervan for the night. what a sound guy. The next morning we finished the sightseeing tour and I headed on my way. Overall, Tofino was a lovely, really rugged, chilled spot. It reminded me of Itacare or parts of Hawaii eh except in the rain...



Speaking of rain, it had really started to bucket down when i started on my way again. This was far less of a joyous experience ! Walked for a fckin hour as the tourists/rich fucks sprayed water on me as they sped past. Eventually I got picked up by a former hitcher (this is usually the way; hitchers are big believers in Karma !) and dropped me off 40km down the road with a can of Smirnoff Ice in my hand (???). Another half hour of getting drenched and despair mounting before Tony and Linda from England came to the rescue. They were sound out and good company and dropped only an hour from my end destination - Victoria.

I've always found hitching to be a great leveller. The moment you think you've mastered it and get cocky, it drops you right in the shit and when you think you're fcked and are about to give in, it picks you up with a dollop of good fortune.

It was getting dark in this shit hole called Duncan and I was about to call it a night having come so close when a car veered across two lanes and jammed on the breaks in front of me. Luke was another former hitcher and a lovely fella. Brought me back to his gaff so i could check my email and tried to make me eat dinner. As much as it pained me, i had to say no, felt guilty enough about his generosity already. They dropped me at my hostel and i went out to meet the two Geordies - Ricky and Dave for one.

And so the next morning I left for the States with Canada a country high in my estimation. Nice people, fantastic scenery and overall a nation with an unassuming opinion of itself.

Wednesday 7 May 2008

Leaving Vancouver

I finally got my ass in gear and managed to drag myself away from Vancouver last week. It was tough in a number of ways. Good people had been met and friendships formed. It was made harder by the epic send off we got.

I rolled back to the hostel bout six, after sorting out the little bits and bobs that needed taking care of, to find Karl tucked into a bottle of whisky with Alex, Michael and Eric ably following suite. I got on the vodka, we took the ipod out and the party was started. All and sundry joined in to create a rip-roaring party so good that we never made it to the Cut Copy/Black Kids gig.



With a 10am departure pencilled in, I had decided to hit Tofino on Vancouver Island, based on a reasonable weather forecast. To my disgust I arose at half fcking two ! Plans binned. I rumbled downstairs to be greeted by Alex who was meant to have caught his bus at 7 that morning to head off tree planting. Oh how we laughed. Knowing that we both fcked up made us both feel all the better bout the situation!!

As he would say himself, "we partied way to hard". Added into the mix was the fact that Eric got evicted! for apparently decking some guy who was trying to check in late at night. He can't remember but apparently he thought the guy was a thief.

I was determined to head regardless of the tardiness of my departure. Mainly cos I didn't want to have to say my good-bye's all over again but also because I needed to make progress and recommence my adjourned travel plans. Ah the end of chapter one......