Washington DC, Part 1: Student and Activist Edition

I've been acquainted with Washington DC as a student, a tourist and an activist. A comprehensive school trip in 1998 was enlightening and enjoyable. Two subsequent trips to protest various wrongdoings by our government were fulfilling and necessary (though those jerks never listen). More recently, Mrs. Tires and I thoroughly explored both the touristy and authentic areas of this city during a stay in the summer of 2012. Come along with me as I relive my adventures in our nation's capital.

Touring DC as a Student

My high school contracted a company that specializes in delivering educational trips to the nation's capital, so I was lucky enough to go with my friends on a four day trip to DC, where we would join students from around the country. I have vowed to make this blog more exciting than a high school field trip, so I will skip the details and just share a few highlights.

Most of the main attractions in DC are located on one long strip. The west end of this strip is a particularly wonderful part of this experience, as it houses the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and the Korean War Veterans Memorial. This makes for great wandering, and I was particularly taken by the Korean War Veterans Memorial. From there, it is a short walk to the Washington Monument. As one travels east, they pass the Smithsonian Museums and end up at the U.S. Capitol Building. Our visit also included meetings with a few state representatives on the capitol steps and tours of both chambers of congress.

We also visited Arlington National Cemetery, which is separated from the main drag by the Potomic River, but is well worth the extra effort to visit. The main sites in the cemetery are the Eternal Flame at John F. Kennedy's grave and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It also serves as the resting place for many soldiers, politicians and other heroes.

JFK's grave and the Eternal Flame

This trip's programming included a talk on the common traits of a liberal and a conservative. I was familiar with these terms, but had never heard the differences broken down issue-by-issue before. It was quite influential, and it wasn't hard for me to figure out which side of the aisle I belonged to. You'll figure that out pretty quickly as we explore my next two visits to DC.

Protesting the Meeting of the IMF and the World Bank

Going to college in Massachusetts means interacting with many politically charged students who are willing to go the extra mile to make their voices heard. When someone who is already political and is further developing his views in this environment interacts with these peers, there's a good chance he will be tempted to join them in their efforts to perpetuate their political agenda. And that's how I woke up snuggling a stranger on a bus that was stranded on the New Jersey turnpike at 4:00 AM.

We were headed from UMass Amherst to Washington DC in the spring of 2000 to disrupt the meeting of the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank. The reasons behind our outrage were complex, and I have to admit that I didn't fully understand the issue despite hopping on the bus to protest it. The essence of our argument was that these organizations loan money to underdeveloped countries unfairly, which leads to poor global economic conditions, depleted resources and more sweat shops.

It was easy to make friends on the bus, as protesting with rah rah liberals is often an open and welcoming experience. I bonded pretty quickly with strangers named Maggie, Boomer and Tricia. I couldn't have asked for a better group of people to fall in with. Additionally, I couldn't ask for a more appropriate collection of names to represent social activists.

Maggie was sleeping on my shoulder when we were abruptly woken up by a loud bang. The tire underneath us had blown, leaving us waiting on the side of the New Jersey turnpike for a few hours while the bus company sent someone to fix the tire. The tire was eventually fixed, and we got into DC at about 10:00 AM.

This event was a follow-up demonstration to the protests of World Trade Organization meetings that happened in Seattle a few months earlier. The Seattle protest was quite violent and unruly. We vowed to make our protest a peaceful one, but the authorities weren't convinced, and word was that we'd face police officers with riot gear and tear gas. The powers that be in the IMF and World Bank were also taking our demonstration quite seriously. Someone with political ties used his sway to close down the building that was to act as the main convergence center for the movement. 

We arrived at the original convergence center but were routed to a new one at a Jewish Community Center that was pulled together at the last minute and worked just fine as a replacement. When we arrived, there was a ton of energy in the air. People of all kinds were making signs, planning routes and giving training sessions on civil disobedience and what to do if you're tear gassed. I was amazed at how well everything was organized despite the huge gathering of so many different organizations and interest and the impromptu change of venue. We were each given an affinity group and a corresponding location to demonstrate. Our foursome was assigned to affinity group #49.

That night we slept on the floor of the Democratic Party office at Georgetown University. Our host there was amazed by the number of people from UMass that came to DC for the rally. There were four busses full of us that made the ten hour trip. He said there were only twenty or so people from Georgetown involved in the protest. That's a testament to the level of activism at UMass.

Early the next morning we showed up to our assigned block and joined the demonstration. There was already a large crowd there, and they were facing off against a long, tight row of policemen on horseback dawning riot gear. The mood was energetic but tense. We participated in a slew of Hell-No-We-Won't-Go-type cheers and yelled our agenda out loud in various ways as others held signs and even large puppets depicting world leaders.

It was weird protesting in the direction of the cops. They weren't the real enemy, as they had a completely separate agenda from the politicos of the IMF and World Bank. And yet, they served as a symbol of the enemy as they represented the repressors, the system and "the man." Fortunately the police were really just there to ensure that there wasn't anything dangerous going on. After an hour of peaceful protest, they took off their masks and put away their shields, which took some of the tension out of the air.

I could tell by looking around the gathering that I wasn't the only one that wasn't 100% clear on the purpose of our outrage. There were many different groups represented at this demonstration. People for a free Tibet, labor unions, anarchists, vegans, reps from Ralph Nader's campaign and many other organizations were represented. It was clear to me that the IMF and the World Bank were our current targets, but the real enemy is a less tangible but more frustrating sense of corporate globalization and the uneven dispersal of financial and social wealth in the world.

Eventually we moved on to another location of the demonstration, and as soon as we arrived, we received word from a clever crowd participation call-and-response system that we should build a human chain to block the intersection. A bunch of us locked arms, and before I knew it, I was on the front lines as we attempted to physically stop the procession of leaders that were driving to the meetings. A group of eight police cars drove up to our intersection and honked, turned on their sirens and used their megaphones to order us to move. We would not be deterred, and after a thirty minute stand-off wherein their announcements were drowned out by our own chanting, they drove away. We cheered as if we had closed down the meetings right then and there.

About an hour later we got word that despite our opposition, the meeting of the IMF and World Bank was underway. We were not successful in stopping the meetings, but were able to delay their start by an hour while bringing attention to our cause, which was something to celebrate. The demonstration was over, but rallies were to continue at the National Mall.

When we got there, everyone was buzzing. We had just missed a performance by the Indigo Girls. No bother. We were in time to catch a rally speech by Michael Moore. After making his case for the idea that current democrats in office were just as bad as the republicans, he explained we should not vote for either party and should instead vote for the ficus plant he had with him on state. He got the crowd going with a chant of "Vote for Ficus."

After a full day of rallies, we boarded the bus and hunkered down for a long ride back. We were exhausted after a long fight. I slept well on the return trip, satisfied that I had contributed to a cause that was fuzzy but nonetheless stood for the right things.

Protesting the Iraq War

Photo by Drex Drexler

Our cause was much more clear and straightforward the next time I marched on Washington. It was October of 2002. Just a year removed from 9/11 and already at war with Afghanistan, there was talk from President George W. Bush about our country going to war with Iraq. I felt the need to inform George and the rest of Washington that this was a very bad idea.

I was joined by Drex, Katie and Adam, who at the time were fellow performers in our comedy group Casual Sketch and have since become lifelong friends. We hit the road after a Friday night show and headed south to DC to join thousands of others in a demonstration against the war.

We spent the night at Katie's mother's place in Delaware, and caught a train into DC the next morning. The photo above is a shot from the station. You'll notice I'm carrying a hobby horse. We named it the Peace Pony, and when people inquired, we'd tell them "Get off the war wagon and ride the peace pony!" I had seen a lot of theatrics and spectacle as part of the first protest, so I found it appropriate to add a bit of my own brand of theatrics to the cause.

As we approached the city, it became easy to identify others that were there for the rally, so there were plenty of people to follow when we got off the train. The initial gathering place for the protest was the base of the Washington Monument.

When we got to the monument, we joined a huge horde of activists. There were many college students like us, but there were also huge representations from labor unions, veterans of previous wars and many other backgrounds. Right away I could feel a sense of unity with this crowd that wasn't present in the previous protest. We were rallying around a single cause, so it didn't matter as much that we were approaching that cause from different angles.

Photo by Drex Drexler

At the designated time, the crowd mobilized and we began marching through the streets of DC, which had been blocked off from traffic. The police were keeping an eye on the crowd, but they had left their riot shields at home. This made things much less adversarial than the last demonstration. The crowd was energetic and loud, and the chants were out in full force. "No blood for oil" was the big rallying cry, and "The people united will never be divided" was another popular chant as we marched past the White House and on to the Vietnam War Memorial. The Peace Pony fit in well, as theatrics, puppetry and signage were abound.

Photo by Drex Drexler

Photo by Drex Drexler

Photo by Drex Drexler

The crowd grew throughout the day as we milled about the area, chanted, talked to others about the cause and listened to a series of speakers. We were there when Susan Sarandon addressed the crowd, though we were too far away to really hear her.

As the speeches continued, the crowd eventually started to fizzle out. We had been there since the beginning of the rally, so we felt at that point that we had said our piece and it was time to seem some sights. Our first stop was the Lincoln Memorial.

Photo by Drex Drexler

From there, we took the long walk to the Jefferson Memorial, which was a bit off the beaten path in comparison to the other sites but was worth the trek. The Jefferson statue is huge, and the rotunda that houses it is a thing of beauty.

That was our last sightseeing stop, so we headed back to the train. We didn't speak much on the ride back, as we were exhausted from the day's activities and were reflecting on the magnitude of what we just did. Over one hundred thousand people showed up to the protest that day, and from the choir it seemed like we were loud enough that they had to hear us.

Well, they heard us all right. They just didn't listen. Months later, the US would go to war with Iraq. It would be a long, painful and costly endeavor that took more than ten years to wind down. While the protest didn't accomplish its goal, I am glad I was there to speak out, and there's some small satisfaction to be taken by knowing we were right all along.

The fact that we were allowed to gather in that manner is a testament to what is great about Washington DC, and about our country in general. We disagree with each other often, but we allow all sides to have their say. I am proud to live in a country that allows this freedom of expression. While it comes with a price, in the end, it's worth it. And that's what DC is all about.

Washington DC, Part 2: Tourist Edition

Louisiana

New Orleans had been high on my list of travel destinations for a long time, and I finally got the opportunity to visit when I served as my buddy Jon's best man and planned his bachelor party in 2014. We chose New Orleans because it's known for its world-class partying and would provide an epic sendoff to Jon's bachelorhood. 

While it ended up being 100% worth it, planning the party was a beast. This post focuses on the high-level details of the trip, which will be helpful for anyone who is planning a bachelor party or other party-focused trip to NOLA. I've omitted the specific stories of the goings-on to protect the not-so-innocent.

There are about six hundred and fifteen thousand hotel options in New Orleans, so the initial search for lodging was a total mess. Fortunately, a fellow groomsman had a family connection to the Bourbon Orleans hotel, so it ended up being an easy choice. This place worked out great for us and I recommend it to anyone who wants to be in the French Quarter. They accommodated our ever-changing reservations, the staff was kind and helpful (even when we were clearly drunk out of our minds when talking to them), the rooms were large, and best of all, we could step out of the hotel and be right on Bourbon Street.

I spent the early part of the first day in New Orleans occupying seats in the lobby and greeting our fellow bachelor partiers as they checked in. The early arrivals hit New Orleans' most famous street despite the pouring rain. Fortunately, the weather cleared up as the day went on, and by about 5:00 everyone had arrived, the rain was gone, and we were ready to get the party started. 

Friday night was designated as Bourbon Street Night. This insane party street is lined with every type of bar and club you could imagine. Some of the bars were total dives and featured chilled out bands or juke boxes, while others were huge warehouses with blaring music. They all offer "drink specials." I put that in quotes because the specials were often something to the effect of 'buy one Miller Lite, get one free,' but the first Miller Lite was eight dollars. Sheesh. 

One of the bars we walked into had a "stand up comedian." He gets quotes because he was a poor excuse for a comic and an insult to the craft. There were only three or four people in the bar when our pack rolled in, so we became his main target. Little did he know our group was largely made up of improv comedians, so for every insult he lobbed at us, we lobbed three back. We were getting annoyed quickly, so when he shouted at us and said "hold on, I've got something for ya" and disappeared backstage, we used it to our advantage and bounced out of the joint before he could deliver his punchline. 

Despite the lousy specials and lousy jokes, we had a great time wandering, popping into bars for drinks or shots, and carrying our beverages with us down the street. There's a really fun vibe to the entire street that's mixed in with interesting architecture and underlying seediness. 

Eventually we made it to the other end of Bourbon Street, where we had a reservation at the Red Fish Grill. Choosing the restaurant for Bourbon Street Night was the biggest headache of the planning process. I needed a place that was on or near Bourbon Street, could accommodate a large group, offered some form of Louisiana cuisine (even if it had to be the touristy version) and was not outrageously expensive. As I researched potential eateries, I found that many of the restaurants required deposits, paperwork, commitments to exact head counts and a promise to pay a penalty if our party was larger or smaller than originally reported. I was not a huge fan of this notion and tried to avoid places with harsh penalties when it came to head counts.

The Red Fish Grill met our criteria, as they offered delights such as jambalaya, shrimp and alligator sausage gumbo at a reasonable cost. I had to sign a contract and choose a set menu, but the conditions were reasonable as they did not penalize groups until more than two people in the party flaked. 

I was a bit nervous about this place when we first arrived, as it was huge and bustling, and having a reservation meant being given a number that would later appear on a monitor when our table was ready. In this regard, it seemed more like a deli counter than a restaurant. However, once we were called and seated, everything was great. The food was delicious, the menu afforded us a huge variety, and they even broke things out into separate checks despite the contract stipulating otherwise. The BBQ blue crab claws were my favorite bite. The alligator sausage gumbo was another hit. 

If you're insistent on having dinner on Bourbon Street as we were, the Red Fish Grill is a great choice.

After the meal, we headed back into the chaos that is Bourbon Street, where we partied the night away. Our group split off here and there, but stayed together for most of the evening. 

What the Bourbon Street looked like to us at the end of the night

We gathered at noon the next day for a swamp tour, where we would board an airboat to chase alligators. There are several companies that offer this service, and most offer transportation to and from your hotel for an additional fee. I called around to find the best deal, and ended up going with Airboat Adventures. 

A bus picked us up at our hotel as planned. We had a couple of drinks from our cooler of beer on the forty-five minute ride out to the swamp. The ride was smooth and we were pumped by the time we got to the boat docks. 

When our number was called, our entire party (including the cooler) hopped on an airboat and we were fitted with industrial headphones. The boat was just as I imagined: long and flat and with a huge fan in the back to push us through the swamp. 

Our guide was friendly and a bit of a character, and the ride was thrilling and fast. Good thing we had those headphones, as the boat fan was really loud. 

Louisiana was experiencing a drought when we were there, so the water level was low and the alligators were sparse. We cruised to a few key spots with no luck, but eventually we had a sighting. The guide made some calls to the gator and tempted him with marshmallows, and eventually he came by for a close-up. He was an ugly, menacing and fascinating creature. We saw one or two more gators as we cruised on through the swamp. 

Photo by G. Scott Olson

We were having a great time cruising on the boat and our spirits were high. At one point we witnessed another boat's tour guide dive into the water and swim after a gator, which was quite amusing and impressive. We were a bit disappointed that we only saw a small number of gators, but there's not much you can do to control nature.

When the tour was nearly complete, the guide pulled the boat over to the edge of the marsh. The purpose of this stop was twofold. The first was to allow interested parties to pee over the side of the boat. The second was to introduce us to his friend, a baby alligator that he kept in a small cooler. He passed the gator around and we reveled in the opportunity to handle a real live gator. We took turns holding it, petting it and laughing at it as it tried to bite us with its tiny, rubbery teeth. This was definitely a highlight. Not everyone can say they've held an alligator. 

The bachelor and his gator. Photo by G. Scott Olson

Photo by G. Scott Olson

I highly recommend a swamp tour as part of any visit to New Orleans, and I recommend Airboat Adventures as your tour company. The boat was fast, the beers were flowing, and the gators were just plain cool. 

After the tour, it was back to the hotel for some free time. Some ventured back out onto Bourbon Street while others napped. We met back up again that night and headed to another part of town called East Riverside, where we had reservations at Superior Grill, a festive Mexican joint known for its margaritas. This place turned out to be a great place for a bachelor party dinner. The atmosphere and staff were a lot of fun, the food was some of the best Mexican I had ever tasted, and it was casual and affordable. We spoke to a couple there that were celebrating their 45th wedding anniversary. When I asked them the secret to their long and happy marriage, the wife's answer was simple. Jewelry.

After dinner, it was off to Ms. Mae's, a noted New Orleans dive bar and a personal favorite of the bachelor. The bar was quiet when our large crew rolled in. "What is this, a party bus?" The bartender asked another patron as I approached. "It's business." I said, turning to the otherwise empty bar. "Good point," he said, standing up straight and grabbing me a pint glass. 

Ms. Mae's is a quiet, cozy bar, which was a nice change of pace after dodging a million other bachelor parties on Bourbon Street the night before. It's filled with game tables such as air hockey and foosball, which were worn down, but fun. In fact, that's how I describe the whole place. If you're looking for somewhere off the beaten path for a low-key time, look towards Ms. Mae's. 

We spent a good hour or so at the bar before heading back to the main drag. Getting back proved difficult. I was told there would be plenty of cabs in the area, but it took us a half an hour to get one cab, and a full hour to get enough to transport all of us.

Once we were all in cabs, we headed to Faubourg Marigny, an area of the French quarter just off Bourbon Street that houses a large cluster of music venues. Some of the venues required advanced tickets, while others required just a cover charge. We had a couple of options lined up for the evening, but didn't end up going to either of them, instead opting to wander into whichever clubs caught our eye. We started at The Maison, a large, open venue that featured a brass band with a lot of energy. While the acoustics were a bit of a mess, the band was a lot of fun and had us jumping around and dancing like crazy.

A band at The Maison (not actually the band we saw). Photo by Matt Lang.

As this club got more crowded, we moved on to Vaso, where we caught another great band. We were hooting and hollering as they played on.

A band at Vaso (not actually the band we saw). Photo by Matt Lang. 

Eventually the group stumbled out of that bar and back to Bourbon Street, where we got blissfully lost in a sea of parties.

New Orleans was a hell of a lot of fun. I had anticipated a visit for a long time, and it did not disappoint. If you're considering doing a bachelor party there, go for it! Bourbon Street is a nonstop party, so you will have an amazing time. It was also clear that New Orleans offered a lot more than just the party scene, and I hope to return to truly experience the city sometime soon. 

West Virginia

I'm driving with my comedy group Casual Sketch from Massachusetts to Ohio in my 1987 Honda Accord (aka the MetaCar) in the fall of 2000. We’re on our way to the University of Miami, Ohio to perform at their annual comedy festival. After spending the previous night in eastern Pennsylvania, we had just traversed the rest of the state. 

Herb is napping in the back seat, and when his eyes open up, he asks where we are. 

"West Virginia" I reply.

"Oh," he says, closing his eyes again. Then he snaps awake in a hurry.

"West Virginia?" He asks, desperately. "How the fuck did we get to West Virginia?!?"

I had always thought of West Virginia as being in the south, but there's a long, skinny sliver of the state that makes its way north and sits to the west of Pennsylvania. We were all a little surprised when we crossed the West Virginia border. No bother. Within twenty minutes we would make our way through the state and arrive safely in Ohio, which would bring its own surprises.  

And that's my story about West Virginia. 

New Hampshire

New Hampshire is home. I graduated high school in Portsmouth, NH, so while I also lived in Maine and Massachusetts at times while I was a kid, I call New Hampshire my home state. I truly connected with Portsmouth when I lived there, and I recommend it as a destination for anyone traveling through tax-free New Hampshire. It's a city (by New Hampshire standards), but it has a small arts town feel, including a charming downtown area with a thriving cultural scene. 

Downtown Portsmouth epitomizes New England. The brick sidewalks of the city center are frequented by musicians and lined with the coffee shops that made up much of the social scene when I was in high school. Many Ma-and-Pop shops occupy the surrounding brick buildings, and an old white church towers over the rest of the architecture. Just up the main drag lies Bullmoose Records, a music store that is still popular despite the major changes in the music industry, thanks in part to their gigantic used CD section. Across from Bullmoose lies the Friendly Toast, a funky restaurant decorated with an eclectic collection of knickknacks and funky artwork. Many of Portsmouth's artists frequent "the toast," as it is open early and late. For burgers, try the Wimpies at the Rusty Hammer. On the other side of downtown Portsmouth sits Prescott Park, a lovely area with lots of open green space, city gardens and a view of the ocean and the bridge to Maine.

The arts community in Portsmouth is anchored by the Music Hall, a nine hundred seat venue that hosts concerts, performances and indie movies. Two live theater venues also contribute to the scene, the larger and more modern Seacoast Repertory Theater and the smaller, cozier Player's Ring, where I used to perform as part of the Tuesday Night Improv series that still runs today. 

Overall, Portsmouth has a lot of character and makes for a great road trip destination. Not a bad place to grow up, either.  

Northern New Hampshire is also very representative of New England, as it is a noted destination for leaf peepers (people who marvel at the vibrant colors of the autumn foliage) and houses the White Mountains. Most of the scenic views are found along the Kancamagus Highway, the main drag through the mountains. Along the way, you'll encounter the Lower Falls, a collection of natural watersides, where kids of all ages mount boulders and are rushed down streams and over these natural water slides before plunging into the river. The water is typically very cold, but refreshing on a warm summer day. 

Two of my favorite things from this area are no longer there. The first of which is the Old Man of the Mountain. This iconic and incidental rock formation was a landmark that both embodied and watched over the state for many years. The formation crumbled in 2003. It was a unique and intriguing site that's sorely missed.

Old Man of the Mountain circa 2000

The other location the region is worse off without is the Roadkill Cafe, a quirky restaurant that likened its food to road kill and greeted customers with tongue-in-cheek rudeness that instantly levitated the mood. 

New Hampshire is a high profile state within the political arena. It hosts the nation's first primary, so many presidential hopefuls visit the state in the weeks and months leading up to this election. A win in NH is a big deal, so you never know when you'll encounter someone like Al Gore at the local coffee shop as he makes his pitch to New Hampshire's voters. The region is heavy-handedly decorated with political signs throughout the season. Though some locals bellyache over the hubbub that surrounds the primary, it brings a unique sort of attention to New Hampshire, a state that can be easy to ignore. 

New Hampshire is a small state that most don't think of as a road trip or vacation destination, but it features some real gems that make a visit fun and worthwhile. 

Must See in New Hampshire

• Downtown Portsmouth
• The White Mountains
• Kancamagus Highway

Colorado

Telluride - Photo by Matt Lang

My travels have taken me across Colorado a few times. It's a straight-up cool state that offers something new every time I visit.

This post features some guest photography by Matt Lang. Matt's photos are credited in the captions. Thanks, Matt!

Denver

My first trip through Colorado happened in the summer of 2000.  My friend Cein was moving across the country and he brought me along to ride shotgun during the drive from California to Vermont. We had just left Utah and were heading east. A sign with the words "Welcome to Colorful Colorado" greeted us as we entered the state. Colorado is indeed colorful, with green and yellow forests covering reddish-brown earth.

We spent the night at a hostel in Denver. I was taken by the fact that the city is surrounded by snowy mountain tops. There was something magical about being in a dense urban area and seeing wild, burly mountains in the distance. Unfortunately we didn't get to check out the city much, as we were on our way to Wyoming the next morning.

I definitely want to explore Denver more thoroughly someday. Rockies game, anyone?

More on this trip:

California
Nevada
Utah
Wyoming
Indiana

Steamboat Springs

I made a return trip to Colorado in 2003 when my girlfriend at the time and I were moving to California. We had arranged to stay a couple of nights with her sister's friends in Steamboat Springs. Our hosts were essentially strangers to us, but they were incredibly kind and treated us like royalty.

One of their many generous offerings was a pair of tickets to the Strawberry Park Natural Hot Springs. Picture three adjoined rustic swimming pools filled with 100% natural water that flows from a hot spring located in a mountain that sits above the pools. The water is the perfect temperature, and we sat and soaked in it for hours. The view was amazing. The pools sit at the base of a mountain, they're isolated from civilization, and they're surrounded by a forest of pine trees. At one point a deer came out of the surrounding woods and wandered close to the pool, adding an extra bit of wonder to this amazing place.

A couple of hours of soaking got us pretty tired, so we called it a day just as the facilities started preparing for the evening's activities. It looked like the pools would be a very different place in the evening, as they were setting up turntables, and fire jugglers started warming up (ehem) as we gathered our things. Rumor has it that at night, clothing is optional.

There were several hiking trails around Steamboat Springs, and we took advantage of them. We encountered gorgeous scenery filled with snowy mountain peaks, wildlife and that delightful Colorado color.

Mesa Verde National Park

After saying goodbye to our amazing hosts the next morning, we continued our journey through Colorado, and made a stop at Mesa Verde National Park. This park is unique because it is the only park created to protect man-made structures. It's an interesting stop, as it affords an up-close and personal view of the dwellings left by the Anasazi people. We took a ranger-guided tour of the ruins that involved climbing through tunnels and up and down ladders to get to the dwellings, which added an element of adventure. 

There were also several lizards that appeared in various places throughout the park.

The ruins were really interesting and it was fun to try to imagine what life would be like living there. Mesa Verde may not do it for national park buffs that seek natural beauty, but as a road trip stop, it is top-notch and recommended.

Telluride

On our way out of Colorado, we decided to stretch our legs in a funny-sounding town called Telluride. Boy did this random decision work out well! Telluride is a beautiful ski town with a quintessential Colorado vibe, with ski bums and bearded people occupying the town year round.

The main lift at the nearby ski resort operates all year, allowing visitors take in the view of the gorgeous scenery that surrounds the town. It was too late in the day to ride the lift, so we settled for some wandering, stopping in a bookstore and a brewery and then grabbing some dinner at a delicious sushi joint. When it came time to leave, I didn't want to go. I really connected with this town and wanted to stay as long as possible. As we drove away, I started hatching a plot to open up an improv theater in Telluride someday.

More on this trip:

Nevada
Utah

In addition to the skiing and the scenery, Telluride also hosts several well-known festivals every year, including a film festival, a few theater festivals and a bluegrass festival. My friend Matt has attended the Telluride Bluegrass Festival a few times, and he swears by it. During his last visit to Telluride, he hiked the mountains surrounding the town and took some amazing photos, which he has generously donated to this blog.

Photo by Matt Lang

Photo by Matt Lang

Photo by Matt Lang

Photo by Matt Lang

Gunnison

Remember when I said I crossed Colorado when I was moving to California? Well, it didn't take too long before I turned around and left. This meant another trip through Colorado in the summer of 2003, one that would deliver the most harrowing experience of my life.

After leaving LA and dropping by Cein's place in Utah, I drove to Gunnison, Colorado to visit my friend Katie. She had just moved there, so during my one night in town we decided to do some exploring. Gunnison is surrounded by mountains, so we cruised through them to check out the scenery. We didn't really know where to go, so we took a few random roads that looked promising. Eventually we turned off the paved road and onto a dirt road. This road became pretty remote pretty quickly, and soon there was no civilization in sight. A light rain started falling as we forged on through the mountains, and the dirt road became slippery as we climbed.

Eventually we came to a road that was steep and soupy. We were in a heavy-duty Ford Blazer, so we figured we'd make it through, no problem. We were wrong. Half way up, the Blazer started to slip and veered into a ditch. We tried to fight our way out of it, but the mud was thick, and we got to a point where the harder we tried to steer out of the ditch, the deeper we went into it. We were stuck.

We got out of the car and assessed the situation. Both passenger-side wheels were deeply entrenched in the mud. We tried pushing the car. This did nothing. We tried putting sticks and brush underneath the treads to get some traction. No dice. We were running out of options and getting desparate. We started putting anything under the tires we could find, eventually trying things like sweatshirts and vinyl records. Nothing was a match for the mud. 

As darkness settled in, we realized we weren't going to be able to get the car out on our own. We assessed our options. We would need to call for help. Fortunately, Katie had a cell phone (not everyone did at that point in time), but when we tried to call out, we found we had no signal. We tried a good twenty times. Nothing. We'd have to go find a signal to make the call, which meant leaving the car and forging through the rain, not knowing we were going. Making things worse, it would soon be dark. Nonetheless, we locked up the Blazer and started walking back towards where we came, taking turns obsessively hitting redial as we walked.

It was a moonless night, and our only source of light was my tiny LED keychain that gave off a faint blue glow. As we walked, we started hearing wild howls and grunts in the surrounding woods. At first they were distant, but eventually they came closer and we started hearing the sounds of branches and twigs breaking in the forest that surrounded us. There was definitely an animal close by, and it was definitely large. It followed us for some time. We were already on edge, but this put our fear into overdrive. A wild animal we couldn't see was drawing closer, and we could only assume it wanted us for dinner. Our pace quickened. Soon after, it started pouring. It was also getting very cold, which of course is common on remote Colorado mountains. Things were looking bleak. We trudged on.

Eventually, after approximately fifteen thousand redials, we got a signal. Encouraged, we called 911 and got through. We explained our plight and they were glad to help, but there was one problem: they didn't know where the hell we were, and neither did we. All we could tell them was we had turned onto a dirt road, and many miles later we encountered a steep, muddy incline. The officer we were connected with wasn't sure how to find us, but he was willing to try. I told him to look for the blue light we were carrying.

Somewhat relieved but still not out of the woods (literally or figuratively), we sat down in the middle of the trail and waited. We huddled for warmth and assured each other we'd be ok. We'd later admit to each other that we were scared out of our minds. We could still hear animal noises, and they were definitely close by. Some additional growls from the woods kept us on high alert. All we could do was shine the light and hope the police would get to us before the animals did.

Finally, after what felt like hours, we saw some headlights in the distance. Overjoyed, we leapt up and frantically flashed the light. A kind, mustachioed police officer rolled up and told us to hop in. We were so happy and relieved. He said he saw the blue light from miles away. The more dramatic side of me likes to think the LED light saved our lives. 

The cop took us out the way we came in, and even gave us a ride home. The next day we called a tow truck to get the car out of the ditch. He took a different route, down a state highway and then into the woods. We didn't drive through the forest for more than a tenth of a mile before getting to the Blazer. Turns out we were within walking distance of a major road when we got stuck. Go figure. They hooked a line to the Blazer and pulled it out of the ditch with ease.

We returned to Katie's place after that and relived our misadventure, confessing to each other how scared we really were and rejoicing over the fact that we lived to tell the tale. After that, we said our goodbyes and I headed on to Chicago, a bit stronger after being stranded on a mountain and surviving.

Must See in Colorado:

• Denver
• Telluride

Check it Out:

• Steamboat Springs
• Mesa Verde National Park

Skip It: 

• Self-guided nighttime tours of Colorado's remote mountains

The Nest Time List: 

• More time in Denver
• Telluride Festivals
• Boulder

Follow Matt Lang on Twitter: @mattylang

Idaho

My only visit to Idaho was short but sweet. It was part of the road trip Mrs. Tires and I took from Chicago to Seattle in the summer of 2014. We were still buzzing from our amazing experience at Glacier National Park when we entered the portion of the trip we had purposely left unplanned. Planned spontaneity is better than no spontaneity at all! 

The perfect stopping point for the night ended up being in Coeur d'Alene, Idaho (pronounced Core-Dee-Lane), which is the central metropolitan hub of the Idaho panhandle. We stayed overnight in a Motel 6. 

TRAVEL TIP: When out on the road, Motel 6 is usually your best option for a cheap night's stay. They're typically clean and well managed, and many of them are getting a modern facelift via renovations. For forty to sixty dollars per night, they're a steal. 

The evening was uneventful, other than a snafu with the wifi. We had been in a remote part of Montana for the last three days and were really looking forward to some internet time, so we purchased the "premium wifi" from the motel for six bucks. After struggling to get it to work for more than a minute per session, we learned only one device could be on the internet at a time. The horrors! We asked for a refund but were told that was impossible, so we took turns on the wifi for the rest of the night, huffing about the shoddy service the whole time. This trip made us realize the degree to which being connected has infiltrated our daily lives. Cutting oneself off from external communication is often a highlight of a vacation, but when you want to share trip experiences on the fly or just enjoy some relaxing time on the web and don't have the ability to do so, it can be maddening. It's time to face facts - even when traveling, an internet connection is something we simply can't live without. 

The next morning we went to Elmer's, the best breakfast joint in town. Mrs. Tires had a huge and delicious German pancake and I had a bagel covered with eggs, bacon, tomato and hollandaise sauce. Yum! We snapped a photo when our breakfast arrived and instragrammed it with the hashtag #iheartelmers, as suggested by the menu. Later we received a message from Elmer's asking us for permission to use the photo in their marketing. Maybe you'll see us on their menu someday. 

Before heading out of town, we made a quick stop at the Coeur d'Alene Walgreens, where I bought this delightfully random t-shirt. It's admittedly too tight on me at the moment, but it was a steal at $5.99. 

Walgreens souvenirs in tow, we got back on the road and headed to Washington to continue our journey to Seattle.

More on this trip:

Wyoming
Montana

#raymansgowest on Twitter.