Goodbye US

Banal as it may sound, everything comes to an end and it does so especially swiftly if it's good. Our trip has already finished. We traveled over 8,500 miles (13,600 km), managing to tick all the boxes on our to-do lists. It was by far the best holiday of my life.

Ghost Towns

Having left Medicine Bow, a town currently boasting an impressive population of approximately 270, which was made popular by Owen Wister, we headed back southwards to Colorado. Given Wyoming standards, Medicine Bow is not a shithole but a place big enough to earn the right to be marked on large US maps. Most towns had road signs informing passers-by of the elevation and population. Another vast strip of road running along an empty land led us to Bosler, a town located in the middle of nowhere. The information on the elevation was provided but the other piece was missing. And, as we found a few minutes later, there was a reason to that. Bosler turned out to be the first of a long series of ghost towns we passed on our way. It featured little more than three totally devastated and deserted houses. In a typically American fashion, no place could be left without some bans and thus there was a ‘no trespassing’ sign on one of those ruins. I guess they should also add a ‘no overnight camping’ post. I tried to google the town and found out that most residents left when the new highway was built and railroad services seized to be offered. The brief description also mentioned that there were still 15 inhabitants left. Either that information is outdated or they live underground.

Bosler might not be a highly appealing stop on the road for its lack of interesting views but features one thing missing in locations like Virginia City, which were turned into tourist destinations. It has a genuine ghost town atmosphere. If a place offers lodging and an array of other services, it can hardly be called a real ghost town. Another issue is that such spots offer the best experience when they are not swamped by hundreds of picture-greedy visitors. Only if one comes across a place located off the beaten track, can they feel the shallow emptiness left behind the former inhabitants’ back.

Nevada and California are full of ghost towns deserted after the gold (and silver) rush ground to a halt between mid-nineteenth and early twentieth century. They symbolize human greed, mobility and a hope to go from rags to riches within minutes. We visited Rhyolite, Nevada. It has a tiny museum run by a middle-aged couple of enthusiasts who are willing to provide you with a vivid description of the town’s history. Apart from ghost sculptures, a railway depot and a house made of bottles, which ware renovated and preserved, the town hasn’t been changed much until these days. It has a number of naturally destroyed houses and public institution buildings, as well as car wrecks dating back to mid-twentieth century. The mine’s pits are wired to prevent visitors from taking unnecessary risks but if one deemed themselves a hardcore-tourist, they could easily cross the entrance and take a plunge into the darkness, hoping that they will manage to get out unscathed.

Grand Expectations

Everything about the Grand Canyon is grand, indeed, including the prices charged by the state park authorities and entrepreneurs within the distance of roughly 50 miles. The Canyon has been named the greatest tourist attraction in the US, which ensures a constant influx of visitors and makes businesses assume they can ask highly inflated prices without offering exceptional quality. Why should they care if tourists are about to keep coming there anyway? The Canyon itself is impressive in its size. It seems to be meandering endlessly along with the Colorado River. The visit consists of a couple viewpoints replete with Asian tourists snapping a dozen pictures from the same angle. Of course, one may argue that there are picturesque hiking trails nearby but not too many holidaymakers are actually into hiking, especially here, where nearly half of the population are far too obese to get out of their car, let alone taking a hike. In order to fully appreciate the vastness of this landmark, it would probably be necessary to find oneself at its bottom and raft along the river. Unfortunately, this is something the vast majority of visitors will never get a chance to do. Upon seeing the ‘first view of the canyon’ sign, sophisticated and blasé tourists (yup, I’m talking about myself) frown and contemptuously say: ‘Awesome. There’s also going to be the second, the third, …’ Hardly comparable to Yellowstone, where one could spend a few days and still not manage to see nearly everything the park has in stock. Moreover, the organization leaves a lot to be desired. When you enter the Grand Canyon State Park, its workers are eager to take your admission fee but won’t bother to mention that road works will leave you stranded in your car for half an hour, cursing vigorously. The peaceful holiday spirit is guaranteed to evaporate quicker than French hopes of another World Cup medal. The Canyon is an amazing place but human interference, especially on the part of local authorities and businesses, has made visiting it less than a desirable experience. I left the park vexed, wishing to smash that ‘we hope you had a pleasant stay’ sign.

City Boy Gone Wilder

Having just crossed the Yellowstone Park gate, we spotted a lonesome bison wandering along the middle of the street. A ranger’s car was parked a couple feet away, flashing red and blue lights. I reckon the officer was just about to card the animal and give it a ticket for loitering or using both lanes of the road. I wouldn’t be staggered if wildlife in the park had tags with detailed info on how often they disturb vehicle traffic.

Barely had we traveled a few miles when there was a line of cars stuck down the road. Yellowstone National Park might be a remarkably popular tourist destination but nobody would expect a traffic jam in the evening. It turned out that bison were the troublemakers yet again. A large herd of them was slowly crossing the road, apparently oblivious of human and automobile presence around. One was cheeky enough to dab my car with its hairy thorax. Fortunately, Kowal had traded his motorcycle for the passenger seat of the Charger.

Bison are omnipresent within the park. They either block the roads or idly relax on the adjacent meadows. Although tourists are warned that stopping to take pictures of these outwardly harmless animals may end up in a tragic way, one can see loads of cars parked on the shoulder and an even greater number of cameras flashing any time there is a large herd around auto trails.

The abundant wildlife in Yellowstone is impressive, especially for people like me, who have only seen cats, dogs, pigeons, horses, cows and pigs. Here you get a chance not only to learn some odd names of animals, but also to actually spot them. However, the wild world of the park’s mammals causes a number of problems to ignorant and non-suspecting tourists. Regardless of the place, visitors are warned of grizzly bears and the injuries one might sustain upon encountering them. Campgrounds are full of signs urging people to triple-check if there are no leftovers which might attract bears. The examples of tourist dumbness/ignorance (whichever word fits better) are neatly collected into a book called 'Death in Yellowstone’ and available in stores throughout the park. The leaflets and signs informing that nobody should feel safe ‘in a bear country’ create an impression of being surrounded by blood-thirsty animals preying on you every single minute of your trip. It shouldn’t be very difficult to collect materials for ‘Death in Yellowstone 2,’ a book which, I’m more than certain, will hit the shelves sooner or later.

The aforementioned stupidity does not pertain solely to encounters with animals. Reasons for visitors’ deaths range from falling off the cliffs to stepping into boiling springs. The latter could have become our share. Tourists are only allowed to move across boardwalks or trails but the first tour began with us crossing wooden barriers and ‘trespassing’ thermal areas to take a few good shots. One of the park rangers was passing by and pulled over as soon as he noticed us. The story of gullible European tourists traversing the immense American lands proved to be successful once again. We even changed our accents to sound more East-European. The ranger was very understanding, just like all the other police officers we’ve met so far. ‘Normally, it would be a ticket but I just gotta tell you guys that it is really dangerous. A lot of people get scalded here.’ We thanked him for being so considerate and got back to the car laughing at how easy tourists can get away with pretty much everything as long as they play it dumb. However, the ranger had every reason to be concerned as walking off the beaten track is hazardous. In thermal areas, the ground may be only a thin crust above boiling hot springs or scalding mud. There is no way to guess a safe path; new perils can bubble up overnight, and some pools are acidic enough to burn through shoes.

Yellowstone boasts basically all natural wonders, including mountains, volcanoes, lakes, rivers, falls, geysers (over 50% of all existing in the world) and hot springs. Some of the views are really unprecedented. Traveling from one landmark to another gives an opportunity see things unavailable anywhere else in the world. It feels as if you had been transported to another planet, with an entirely different range of landscapes.

During a relatively short stay there, we were forced to run those road-trip-conversations and narrate our breathtaking adventures much more often than before. Seriously, people – I know that we are cool and what we’re doing here is just as awesome but stop clinging to us that much;D

Got Oxygen?

When Jeff told us about a mountain in Colorado which could be accessed by vehicles up to the very top, we immediately knew it was an ultimate must-see. Pikes Peak Highway is a 19-mile toll road running to the summit of Pikes Peak. Its construction dates back to as early as 1915. Since we are far too lazy and short on time to do regular climbing, the idea of paying $12 for being able to get to the top seemed right on the spot. Every minute of the climb is both challenging and exciting. The curves might be treacherous at times, especially taking into account the fact that hardly anyone abides by the speed limit. While taking a turn, you frequently drive just next to the edge. Approaching it might be scary but also provides a chance to admire fabulous overviews. One wrong move can result in you losing control, flying off the side of the mountain and plunging into a canyon. This single road is reported to consume 60-70 lives every year. Luckily enough, we weren't acquainted with any statistics as regards fatalities before going up. Even if we had been, though, there would have been no way to deter us from taking that climb. The feeling one gets upon looking down the surrounding area of the Rocky Mountains from the altitude of 4,301m is simply indescribable.

The Biggest Private Beach in Louisiana

The place used to host over twenty thousand holidaymakers every summer season. This year, it boasts little more than empty beaches spanning to the horizon and sand of a somewhat unnatural color. Why the situation has changed so drastically and who the culprit is can be easily learned as soon as one crosses the bridge conjoining mainland with Grand Isle. In the front yard, one of the residents posted signs featuring SpongeBob characters. ‘Seriously … when can we go back in the water,’ asks one of them. ‘Thanks BP,’ satirizes another.

Grand Isle is an 8-mile-long strip of land stretching between Louisiana and the Gulf of Mexico. It is connected to the mainland via a causeway bridge which caught fired last year and had to be replaced with a new one. The island is notorious for its hurricane attacks history. In August 2005, it was severely affected by hurricane Katrina which destroyed numerous houses along the coast (this is the location of all dwellings on Grand Isle). This year, residents were not affected by a natural force. Instead, they had to suffer the implications of a man-made disaster. The oil spill reached the shores of Grand Isle, depriving numerous inhabitants of their main income source (fishing, catching crabs, shrimps, etc.) and scaring tourists off the beach. That meant a substantial drop in the revenue for motel and restaurant owners. On the other hand, I feel compelled to mention that lodging was strongly overpriced and totally not on par with the quality offered.

Currently, only one zone of the beach is open and it is supposedly safe to bathe there. Rumor has it that Barack Obama visited Grand Isle to take a bath in the gulf and prove that it was already risk-free to do so. Hard to say how successful his demonstration was. After all, he entered the water black and left it having exactly the same skin color. No oil could be seen on his body. I decided to check it for myself and since my body hasn’t gone black I have to say there is indeed no danger looming in that part of the shore. However, it doesn’t necessarily mean that tourists are storming Grand Isle again. We spent half a day there and didn’t meet anyone except for three middle-aged women, one of whom was a permanent resident of the island. Talking to them gave us some first-hand insight into the problems faced by the inhabitants. It turns out insurance companies make use of similar strategies regardless of which country they are located in. In the post-Katrina period, they were clinging onto all excuses imaginable to pay the victims as little as possible. Additionally, there are underlying racial tensions in the local community. If anybody seriously thinks that ethnic aversions are a thing of the past, they should head southwards and talk to the locals. We heard people complaining about the fact that there are too many African Americans who don’t even try to get a job, live off government grants and receive free grocery shopping coupons. It is not my intention to discuss the credibility of such statements here, yet they definitely show that racial symbiosis is still little more than a utopian term in this country.

The previously mentioned women approached us while we were taking a bath and scrutinizing whether our bodies hadn’t already become somewhat brownish. They were probably excited to see some fresh meat, young gigolos displaying their muscles and abs. We touched upon dozens of topics, ranging from Grand Isle everyday existence struggles to family stories. They have been through a lot in life but garnered enough strength to overcome tragedies and keep on going. Best regards to you ladies if you ever get to read that. It’s a bummer we couldn’t join you for that dinner; I’m sure it would have turned into the wildest party Grand Isle has seen in years.

Texas Is Watching You

‘The eyes of Texas are upon you,’ says a sign one encounters upon crossing the state’s border. Sounds quite intimidating, particularly given the fact that whatever the place, you get overwhelmed by an infinite number of signs informing about all bans man has ever come up with. No loitering, no public display of alcoholic beverages, no walking off the sidewalk, no playing in the dumpster. Texas has also put up a strong front against DUI. However, it needs to be noted that, in similar fashion to many other states, Texan law allows drivers to have 0.08 blood alcohol content. Compared with the equivalent Polish regulation, that looks very benevolent, of which I frequently take advantage. Rules might exist but their enforcement is a thoroughly different story, especially if you are a European tourist travelling across this country. Within two days, we had 4 encounters with the police. The ‘offences’ included stopping on shoulder to take pics, speeding and neglecting to use winkers. The story of Europeans taking a journey into the unknown must be so appealing and touching that every time, instead of being given a ticket, we only strike up some small talk about our adventures.

One police encounter was caused by a different reason, though. We stopped next to a high school, having mistaken it for a supermarket (it really looked like one). Obviously, there was little chance of doing any shopping but since we had been travelling for quite a long time, it was a good moment to take a brief pause. No sooner had a couple minutes passed than two police cars drew up. They had been alarmed by the guards looking at the security cameras outside the school building and seeing that there were some guys, potentially drug dealers, hanging out close to the entrance. The police officers ended up laughing heavily as soon as they found out the actual reason behind our presence. That situation left me ruminating over two issues:
1) The point of using CCTV. On the one hand, it is supposed to prevent crimes and help capture offenders. On the other, it is very difficult, verging on impossible, to draw a line between protection and excessive interference into citizens’ lives. The police should find it easier to identify certain criminals but will also be forced to waste a lot of time attending to unjustified calls.
2) To what lengths should schools go to eradicate the drug abuse problem? They have to do something because otherwise parents would lay all the blame on them. Most high-schoolers, however, use this time of their life to experiment with what is considered illegal. It is rooted in human nature and schools will never be capable of fully resolving this matter. They might even install airport-style gates at the entrance but teenagers will be getting the drugs their want after school hours. If they want to try, nothing will stop them.

Texan police officers are great but there was another highlight of our journey through this state. For the first time, we saw what I deem to be an essentially American landscape. If the American South struck us with its extent of uninhabited land, Texas did the same much more powerfully. There is no longer an exit leading to a town with a full array of services every few minutes. GPS shows that the closest gas station or restaurant is located within 40-50 miles. The distance between towns is large enough to feel that one travels across a no man’s land, a red and yellow prairie, with occasional green bushes. Upon turning into a smaller county road, we came face-to-face with a group of brave cows which were very reluctant to move off the street and let us pass. It took a lot of hooting before they eventually surrendered.