The good news: I'm finally here in Seattle! The less good news: being in Seattle and meeting up with my former exchange student buddy-now-video game visionary Hiro are not the same thing.

I couldn't leave Walla Walla without stopping by the museum and getting back into my Oregon Trail mode. Being from Northern California, we did Oregon Trail stuff every year in school, and endlessly played the video game. In eighth grade we had to write a fictional travel diary of a pioneer party traveling from Missouri to Oregon. The official comment from my teacher was "Entertaining, but not very realistic"! This is because I had the following passage on page four:

Mrs. Walnut said, 'Oh no, three of my children have been eaten by sharks in that horrible river! I knew this Oregon trip would trouble us no end."

"There, there," cried Mr. Walnut as he clipped in the oxen. "A few hungry sharks cannot destroy our dream! We will reach the Valley one day, I swear. Now, who wants beans?"

As I noted above, this won me no accolades from the teacher, but did inspire a catchphrase for the rest of eighth grade Social Studies. Any speech or historical reference we had to read in class would wind up being followed by a beany reference, such as "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself... now, who wants beans?"

Today's driving was much easier than yesterday's, and I caught a fascinating piece on Talk of the Nation about a swimmer trying to make the Paralympics team.

Hiro and I had it set that we would meet up at the Seattle Public Library. Clearly neither of us noticed that there are 28 branch locations, so we spent most of this afternoon trying to meet at different places. I'd drive to one, thinking it was the central branch, and then he'd take a bus to another, and we carried on doing this until we finally met up outside of the Douglass-Truth Branch around 8:30 pm. An adventure with Hiro - just like old times. We are here, we're hanging out, we've got the next two days to hang out in Seattle before he has a video game convention for work and I head out of town. It's going to be awesome.

(Photo by OZinOH)

Sorry, Hiro, I tried my hardest to get to Seattle today but I just couldn't. One more day, I promise. At least I drove in the right direction - I'd considered heading east to the Potato Expo (free hash browns with every admission) but I guess I can do that when I get back from Seattle.

Today: Road. Speed. Gasoline. Classical music. Freaking because I saw an exit sign to "Ontario" and thought I'd gone completely the wrong way for hours. (It was Ontario, Idaho.) Snacks (note to gas stations of the USA: carry more cashews! Peanuts and I have now officially broken up and I want to see other snack foods). Missing exits. Driving around the way back to the highway for 30 minutes (and yes, I did ask for directions, I just couldn't figure out what they were pointing me to). Realizing during a late lunch that Seattle was still six hours away. Slightly changing course to end up in Walla Walla, because I remember its fort from Oregon Trail. In the parlance of the game: Marcus has exhaustion. Wait 1 day.

Today is officially Marcus's Stupid Day. Everything I saw was cool, but I am the nerd of nerds after today.

After staying up way too late looking up possible routes that would a) get me toward Seattle to meet up with Hiro, and b) still have some fun things to see. As you can tell by the name of the post, I ended up driving to Ketchum, Idaho, where Ernest Hemingway lived and died and where Adam "Batman" West now lives. But more on that in just a second.

The day started in Salt Lake City, and I wanted to see at least a few things before hitting the road, so I checked out the Utah State Capitol and Temple Square really quickly. Near the Capitol is a "gravity hill" where you go to a certain spot, put your car in neutral and you roll uphill (or at least it looks like you're rolling uphill; it's actually an optical illusion). This was fun, but because it was Stupid Day, I thought it would be a great idea to have the car go "up" the hill backwards, which was terrifying and frightening and really, really stupid. I hereby apologize to the good people of Salt Lake for being such a freak in your city.

Drove to Ketchum while listening to a great piece on All Things Considered about CEO's going to rock school!

My Salt Lake City stupidity was more dangerous than my Ketchum stupidity, but not nearly as stupid. I went to a restaurant with a Hemingway theme and decided to make ridiculous Hemingway references everytime the server came to the table. Example: "I know for whom the menu tolls." (I know, I want to smack myself just reading it back.) After about ten minutes of this the server referred to me by a word I won't put here because my parents are reading. I left a tip of like $20 because I felt so bad.

I guess it's good I got all the stupid out of my system today, because I have to drive almost 700 miles to get to Seattle by tomorrow. Hope they have a good coffee shop here!

In honor of Stupid Day, here's a video of someone rolling a bottle up a gravity hill which is not the gravity hill I tried to drive up backwards.

(Photo by Andy Stoll - gotta love the cow)

Big change of plans!

From: Hiro [mailto:hiroman@____.___]
Sent: Saturday, June 14, 2008 23:11
To: MarcusDrives [mailto: marcusdrives@____.____]
Subject: Getting together

Marcus!

I wrote Gretchen and Doug about my trip but she didn't maybe get the message? I will come to Seattle with my job. Do you want to meet? Are you free for the summer?

Hiro

Hiro was an exchange student from Japan that stayed with us a few years ago, and he just got a job with a gaming company (which is no surprise - he got my grandma to play Dance Dance Revolution, which was about the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me). Either my parents didn't get his message or they didn't send it on to me, but either way, I'm going north to see him instead of toward the Grand Canyon. Actually I'm going northeast, cause I don't want to backtrack, but I'll swing back toward the coast at some point.

Today was mostly driving - the only touristy stop I made was at Cedar Breaks in southwest Utah, which satisfied my canyon longing. (Best sign: "Exposed cliff edges: Watch your children.") Also caught the rebroadcast of Wait Wait, which I missed yesterday.

So now I'm in Salt Lake and checking out possible routes to Seattle. I can't decide which way to go - through Idaho or a little further east into Montana. Anybody ever driven out that way? Any suggestions? (Other than from my cousins?)

(Photo by CFBSr)

Everyone has an opinion about Vegas - some love the glitz, some hate the gaming, fans of CSI and Sinatra think it's cool, but for people who hate light pollution and/or think the West is running out of water, not so much. (Yes, I do listen to Climate Connections, thank you very much!) But everyone has a strong opinion about Vegas, especially my friends and relatives with e-mail. I'm getting everything from "Kick it at the blackjack tables, bro" to "I'll keep praying until you're out of that place," which are messages you don't get when you visit, say, Kansas City.*

As for me? Well, Las Vegas is the only place I've ever been sawed in half, so I guess I like it. Among other things I went to see The Great Cantigny, one of about six thousand magicians in Vegas, and got pulled out of the crowd for the trick. This was all well and good, except that I'd eaten a sandwich of questionable quality an hour or so before the show, so my stomach was acting all funky, and it was not happy about being in the box. So Cantigny is sawing the box and this loud, low rumble comes from my stomach, which he heard, because he paused. "Relax, kid," he whispered, "nothing to worry about." But I wasn't worried - I was digesting, and since I couldn't think of any reasonable way to explain this, I just stayed quiet. Or at least my mouth did.

*No disrespect to KC, of course.
(Photo by catielovesbill)

Passed 1000 miles on the odometer today!

Note to my friends: someone in my family either passed along my cell phone number or dialed the cell phone number for my cousins, who are six and therefore ambivalent about a) enunciating, b) talking into the phone and c) condensing their message into one phone call. So I have like 700 messages now. Here's one.

"Marcus?"

This was said in the lowest possible whisper, so I'd crank my phone volume way up. And then...

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

I tried to delete as many as I could yesterday, but my ears hurt. So if you left me a message I'll try to get to it soon.

Phone messages aside, things are going great now that my legs are operational again. Decided not to double-back to the highway and instead drove right through Mojave, home to the Kelso singing sand dunes. I thought about sliding down a dune to make it "sing" but I think I've had my fill of wandering around on foot for the moment. Plus, that guy "The Other Edge" would probably think it was Bono singing and I'd have to run away again.

And then, it was across the border and into Las Vegas, which is brighter at night than Mojave is during the day. Man, is it bright - but you really do expect these well-dressed people to stride through the Strip on their way to some really exciting happening. I tried a few hands of blackjack, but seeing as how it was Friday the 13th, I lost miserably. BUT - the real story was the guy sitting next to me, who told me he had very nearly been a hotshot Vegas hotel developer. His big idea - and I'm not making this up - was to build a hotel in the shape of Wilma from the Flintstones. "When you think of Vegas," he said, "You should think of Wilma Flintstone." Vegas has casinos, attractions, huge population growth and Celine Dion, but what it really needs is a giant red-haired cartoon head sticking out of the ground. I recorded the guy explaining the whole Hotel Wilma thing - I'll try to post it here if I can figure out how.

Didn't get to see all the Vegas I wanted, so I'll be here for at least another day. I found a cool bit on KNPR's website where they feature different places to visit that are all a half day's drive or less from Vegas. Too bad that guy's hotel didn't get built - "Join us for a trip to a giant hotel shaped like Wilma Flintstone." Viva Rock Vegas!

Update: here's the audio (with a few extra touches from Andrew P. at NHPR and Florence Rogers and Danielle Branton at KNPR).

(Photo by Old Shoe Woman)

Rest day today, which means I got caught up on e-mail and checked in with the folks back home. Apparently there's a big to-do with Viva Bread; there's a faction of advisors who want Otis H. Basketry only to campaign in unincorporated towns. It sounds like the anti-unincorporates are in the minority for now, which is good for me and the other field organizers. It'd be hard to organize the neighborhoods when you're not allowed to go to most of them!

Thing I Should Have Brought: a pair of hiking boots. My feet are killing me.

I drove out to Joshua Tree National Park, which felt like being in the middle of nowhere compared to the hugeness that is greater Los Angeles. I was listening to AirTalk on KPCC, and they had an interview about a new collection of photography in LA. Really fascinating stuff, but it was weird - here I am, driving into one of the most scenic places in the country, and I'm visualizing the city I just drove out of!

Now, back to my hiking boot problem. I got into the park around lunchtime, so I decided to walk the Skull Rock trail, which seemed like a good trail for somebody who liked hiking but didn't think to bring his hiking boots (they're in a box at home, waiting for movers to pick them up and send them to New Hampshire). Not a problem, right? Well, right, except that at the head of the trail I ran into some other hikers, one of whom was essentially an obsessed fan of the band U2 and went by the name of - I'm not making this up - "The Other Edge." The guy talked my ear off for what felt like 600 years, about how he'd followed in the band's footsteps for most of his adult life. "I first came here after they put The Joshua Tree out," he said, "and moved to Germany after Achtung Baby was released." He lives in Alamagordo, New Mexico now. Why? Because their latest record is called "How To Dismantle An Atomic Bomb."

Now I'm all for eccentric people - Otis H. Basketry, anyone? - but about ten minutes into the hike he starts talking loudly to "Bono." No, U2's lead singer was not actually there, but he talked as if his spirit lived in the trees. "Bono, my brother!" he called out. "Have you found what you're looking for yet? Was it on the streets with no name?" I ran off the trail as fast as I could, ended up getting very lost and finally hiked my way back to the car after dinnertime. Other than this minor inconvenience, and my feet hurting from a lot of unexpected walking without hiking boots, and being a little sunburned, and having walked through a beautiful national park with "The Other Edge", it was a Beautiful Day. (Sorry, bad U2 joke.)

Speaking of Otis H. Basketry and the campaign, a couple people have written to ask for a link to the Viva Bread party website. Otis is convinced that websites have a negative effect on yeast, so they don't have one. I have some campaign brochures in the car, though they consist of mostly recipes.

Now listening to: what else? "The Joshua Tree" by U2.

Photo by Altuwa

If I were a super hero and had to describe my metahuman powers, I'd say I had the power of super-timing. I seem to show up in the right place at the right time. For example: according to my dad, I was born during a commercial break, so they didn't miss any live news coverage of Hands Across America.

Today was no exception. As a history buff, I thought I'd drive over to Yorba Linda to see the Richard Nixon Library and Birthplace. Little did I know that today was the first day of the Ping Pong diplomacy rematch! The Chinese and American table tennis players from 1971 are at the Nixon Library to play each other again! They weren't actually playing today, but I did see them arrive and shake hands and then go inside for lunch. (I, on the other hand, eschewed lunch. Too many weekend burgers.)

Continuing my Nixon kick, I decided to spend the afternoon in San Clemente, the site of La Casa Pacifica, where Nixon lived during and after his presidency. Spent most of the afternoon at San Clemente State Beach watching surfers. I think this is the first time anyone's gone from Nixon to surfers in the same day. What would RMN think?!? :)

Now listening to: "Money Jungle," Duke Ellington with Charles Mingus and Max Roach

How many times can you get lost in one city in one weekend? Ty took me sightseeing along with his friend Derek, even though neither of them know their way around LA and my only landmark in town was the place where we filmed the zombie movie. So we decided to turn on the radio and any song that had a reference to someplace we could drive to, we'd go there. KPCC had perfect timing - their show Off-Ramp was about... off-ramps! Number of off-ramps they talked about that we actually got to: zero. But we had fun anyway. We saw some sights from a long way away - I think I saw the Y in Hollywood, but it might have been a low-flying cloud. We did go to Fatburger at least three times - Derek kept saying "I need Fatburger or I'm gonna hurl." Nice guy, but a little food-crazy.

Sunday was more successful. Stopped by the Walk of Fame, where I swear I saw one of the kids from that show Full House (not the Olsen twins) and Derek fell over on Billy Barty's star. Then we walked over to the Ripley's museum, which was awesome even though a couple of the items caused more stomach troubles than a lack of Fatburger could ever do. Derek and Ty tried to stand on each other's shoulders next to the wax statue of Robert Wadlow, the world's tallest man, but they kept falling over. Later, when we were driving around town (we did finally see the Hollywood letters, hung out at Griffith Park) we kept seeing this Accidentes van. The guy looked like he was staring right at me, which nearly caused me to have an Accidente or two. All was well in the end, and we came back to Ty's to watch the Lakers game. (I'm not really a Lakers fan, though I'm not in New England yet so I don't have to be a Celtics fan either. I rooted for the referee to win.)

Oh, one last thing that you'll all probably laugh at: I'm becoming one of those Prius people. I was picking up dinner (Fatburger again - apparently Ty doesn't eat anything else if he can help it either) and was backing up, when I looked at the rear view camera and saw another Prius... who was looking at me through its rear view camera! We honked our horns happily at each other. Then he bought me a burger. I think his bumper sticker said he was in the Orange County Prius Club - if you're out there and can identify my Fatburger Samaritan, tell him I said thanks!

Photo by Elaine A