Just left Tristan’s place at Jackson Wyoming, so I thought it would be a good time to discuss a book he gave me which I read on the trip- A Confederacy of Dunces. It was hilarious. It was touching in a weird way. The strongest thought I had after putting the book down was that the “hero”, Ignatius J. Reilly, would make an EXCELLENT blogger! The book jokes that Ignatius spends his time locked in his room, in bed, writing pages of various thoughts and journal entries in his “Big Chief” paper tablets, which are then discarded to the floor. Someday, somehow, he’ll arrange these disparate rants that fill his room into a proper book. Of course the oaf doesn’t have the dedication to finish any project that large.

Doesn’t seem so out of place in today’s world. Substitute “Big Chief” for “Dell” and he’d be a hit on the web! No dedication required!

Anyway the book was amazing. It built a crescendo of madness that culminated in one of the most satisfying endings I’ve ever experienced in comedy. Thanks to Tristan for sending it my way.

My mom and dad don’t come from big families and while we saw my mom’s brother’s family a few times a year, it never seemed to match the scale that I saw in other families in our neighborhood. The Breens were the most notable in my mind. They had tons of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents that all lived in the area. It was mind boggling to think that you could have so many people related to you. As I grew older, I really started to appreciate how much our neighbors, the Breens, had become a second extended family. Not only did they invite us to the many parties they had with their own extended family, but we routinely went on vacation with together and shared meals throughout the year. My dad’s side of the family is very spread out across the country and although I grew up seeing some of these people for one week every summer, it was never long enough to really establish a relationship.

The past year has been full of events that have kept this on my mind. While attending a ‘work weekend’ at the island where every summer I would see those people…I got the opportunity to see and enjoy the company of all those relatives in a more relaxed setting and at an age that allowed me to have adult conversations. My dad and I made that trip with his cousin, Hal. I don’t know if I was looking so hard for some connection that I started inventing them, but it really seemed that there were real similarities between my personality and these people that floated in and out of my life. I’ve always taken after my dad’s side of the family physically, and it is sort of intuitive that I would in other ways as well. The more time we’ve spent on this trip, the more I’ve been able to stop and connect with family that is spread out around the country. A real notable stop was one with another cousin of my dad’s.

Wendy greeted us in Chicago with the open arms that only get from family…even though I’d only met her once. She took us to see her son, Tad, and his kids.
She told us stories about other cousins that I have that I hadn’t met and it pretty quickly seemed to be that there were all these people out there that were kind of like me, had the same relatives, that I had never met. Most of these people live on the west coast and I’m anxious to meet them, but what really sticks out for me is that even without a blood bond you can form relationships with people that are as dear as family. What has felt so intense about meeting people that are ‘just like you’ doesn’t necessarily compare to the relationships that are built up over time…like the Breens.

Boynton is a family name on my dad’s side

The Badlands were incredible. To drive through on a motorcycle, with no steel cage around you, was truly impressive. Here are some pictures and videos. If you’d like, check out the Flickr Set for this day as it was just amazing.

This is Scott adventuring out into the rocks. Scott had been telling me that the last time he visited the Badlands, with his parents, he scared the bejeesus out of his mother by playing around on these rocks. So this video might give Scott’s mom a heart attack- please be careful Mrs. Patton. This was right next to a scenic outlook, and rather than looking at the scenery all the people at the viewing station were staring at Scott. I actually heard people mumbling assurances to each other- “one step at a time”; “he’s young, he’ll be ok”.

Here’s one of me talking about one feature of the Badlands I was impressed with.

Reading this put a fascinating look on all the things that I learned in Mr. McPartlin’s American History class. This book takes you on a trip through American Political History focusing on political paradigms instead of each change of power. When looked at this way, the shifts in power and policy seem to happen much more gradually and with greater correlation. Although the beginning focuses on events that took place a few hundred years ago, the implications for American political sentiment are clear as the author discusses the fight between Jefferson and Hamilton. Relearning that the idea that permeates liberalism came from the French Revolution was very cool. Even more interesting was the picture of conservatism that was laid out. Conservatism has undergone incredible changes so that today’s Republicans put forth mere shadows of the politics that their for bearers espoused. This isn’t just true for conservatism but, given the very definition of that word, it caught my eye the more I read. The best example of this was finding out that Reagan actually embraced programs like Social Security and Medicare…programs that are certainly under fire as “dangerous government entitlements” these days.

The lasting impression that I got from this book was that over relatively short periods of time, much of what the two major parties have legislated has ended in failure or negative, though unintended, consequences. Today’s neo-liberalism seems to be trying to wed the free market approach espoused in Reaganomics with governmental solutions to human problems of inequality, poverty and civil rights that the market has historically not been able to address.

Food for thought that this book generated in my head. Was the short term benefit of national healing, worth the possible long term consequences in pardoning Richard Nixon? Did the precedent of not wanting an elected US President to spend time behind bars lead to the “above the law” behavior that has become rampant in the executive branch? If there were rather a precedent for paying for your crimes, and being held to the same legal standard as the rest of the population…would our government, well, work better?

In Moab, Scott and I attempted once again to meet a patron who wouldn’t be opposed to a few smelly boys sleeping in his/her living room. Once again, we failed miserably, although we got closer than we have ever yet gotten- the cool Arches park ranger we became friends with considering letting us crash after a few drinks and some chatting, but ended up being worried about her paranoid roommate. No problem- after all, the exploitation of our new friends is simply a side mission. The primary goal is to be making new friends and having fun. Mission Accomplished!

That night, only somewhat dejected, we slept in a local high school parking lot. It was there that I was… attacked!

Three things to note in my semi-defense about this video. The first is that I consider it to be both hilarious and embarrassing, which makes it doubly hilarious. The second is that I really cannot believe these razor-sharp pain-mines look so small on camera. In person they were more the size of a fist or a small grapefruit.

The third is that I had a “dull ache” in my foot for several days after this happened. So the story to which I am sticking is that they were mildly poisonous. True or not, for the sake of my masculinity I’m going with it.

In the morning some school official came out and kicked us out of the parking lot, explaining in vague terms that people would be worried about some Columbine or molestation business with strange scary men sleeping so close to children. I should have threatened to sue for pain and suffering.

Landing in the badlands after spending an entire night crossing the prairies of South Dakota was incredibly eerie. Waking up after hunkering down quickly to avoid a thunderstorm the night before, we woke up and saw we had camped in someone’s driveway.

So hurried to get out of there before we got yelled at, we didn’t even really appreciate the wide open and beautiful prairie that surrounded us. Now, I used the word eerie not to describe waking up in someone’s driveway, but rather the feeling we had of driving out of lush and green Minnesota and coming to the next morning surrounded by landscape you’d expect to see on Mars. We spent the day driving some pretty cool dirt roads through the park, scrambling all over the features and seeing our first collections of wildlife. Included in this wildlife were incredible numbers of fellow bikers. Without knowing it, we had landed in the black hills smack in the middle of Sturgis Bike Week!

Pretty excited that we had the chance to experience the famed bike week at the same time we were already going to be in town, we headed north from Rapid City towards Sturgis. Only about 15 miles out, we saw some of the most intimidating storm clouds of the trip. Black, huge, and full of lightning strikes. I flipped on the local radio to see what we were in for and the first thing I heard was “meteorologists are recommending that residents take cover in hard shelter to avoid the effects of hail, lightning and severe thunderstorms”. Knowing we had to find shelter quickly, we got off at the first exit for Sturgis and, like idiots, thought that we’d find a spot on a back road to set up camp. Surrounded by 500,000 people, we realized that that was not going to work out. Feeling the storm closing in, we spotted a bunch of tents crammed in on the grass around someone’s house. Brendan asked if we could join the group and 30 bucks later we had a place to make camp. I pitched my hammock between a tree and fence post, with Brendan taking the area right next door. As the rain started to come down we were both dry and sheltered. With the wind picking up, I realized that I had pitched myself facing the wrong way and was about to get hit with enough wind to render my rain fly ineffective. In the time it took to readjust, the storm had hit and I found myself climbing into my hammock, in my skivvies…completely soaked. The hammock had worked well up to this point, but was showing it’s limitations in rushed situations. Knowing that the trees were going to become sparse and that more storms were inevitable, it was right there…on the lawn in downtown Sturgis that I decided I needed a tent.

Nearly two full months and only a handful of uncomfortable situations have left me with good feelings about the hammock. It’s clearly not the best long term option for shelter but I still have it with me and intend to use it whenever possible. It remains the the most comfortable way to sleep I’ve ever found. The limitations in rushed conditions, trees, and warmth however make it necessary to augment for the long haul.

One of the many moments of “wow” that we had in Salt Lake City. This picture was taken in the Joseph Smith Memorial Building book store. They also sold clothing here that you had to be a member of the church to buy.

So far the impression that I’ve gotten about Mormons is the following: their religion may be silly and/or misogynistic (not exactly a unique charge) but, just like most religious people, as individuals we’ve found them to be super nice and friendly and open about their faith or lack thereof.

We had the following exchange with two of the missionaries at Temple Square in the center of Salt Lake City. There were pairs of missionaries walking the grounds and approaching tourists like us and offering information. I didn’t think to turn the camera on until we were halfway through with it, so for background- the video starts after Scott asks a question about different levels of dedication to the faith. As in, people who go to church every Sunday versus those you only see on Easter and Christmas.

I swear to god, that moment in the middle was an accident. These are chaste women!

Fort Collins, Colorado. We stopped at a Honda Powersports shop to get my bike looked at, post-Deer incident, and to get some advice on where to stay in town. Scott talked to a guy at the counter who recommended a place called the Mishawaka Inn on the Cache La Poudre river. We’re game, so we start up the bikes and head out.

This was our first real taste of Colorado and it didn’t disappoint. The road we took to get there followed the river, and was amazing for motorcycling. There were pull offs everywhere and people were fishing, camping, and just hanging out by the water. And the scenery took our breath away. Rising up out of the river were these beautiful stony hills. A real refreshing change from the miles and miles of flat land we had been dealing with for the past few days.

Turned out the Mishawaka Inn was just our speed. Check out the pictures above. As far as we could tell, everybody working at this place was either stoned or a little (or a lot) drunk. Totally nuts but cool for us because it meant they were always ready to chat and hang out. They had good food. They had a stage, though sadly no music the night we were there. But best of all, they had camping, right on an island in the middle of the river.

Also, since they were all hippies, they didn’t care that we bathed in the river. We got food and drinks, chatted with the people who worked there, and generally got a good dose of relaxation. Scott ordered chocolate cake and got a piece bigger than his head. The sounds of the river churning soothed our frayed nerves. All in all it was an amazing recharge after what Scott and I both felt was a bad-mojo week full of Sturgis, Black Hills Chiggers and Deer Encounters. At the end of the night we stumbled over to the Island, curled up in our already set up tents, and went to sleep.

The next day Scott finished his leftover cake and I got some Freedom Toast and Huevos Rancheros. Tell your friends- Mishawaka Inn rocks.

Watching this political season unfold has been both interesting and maddening. Never under the illusion that politicians were any more moral or righteous creatures than the rest of us, it wasn’t hard to accept the deficiencies inherent in each candidate. I’ve also never felt that I should cast a ‘protest’ vote just because there was no candidate that spoke to my issues. That always seemed to be an ineffectual way of protesting the main political parties and their delirious run to the center. Governor Jesse Ventura said that the best thing to do to measure political activity would be to offer a ‘none of the above’ option in the voting booth. Doing so would encourage full participation and force the major parties to try a little harder than just the avoidance of pissing people off.

All that said…with questions surrounding the honesty surrounding both John McCain’s most utilized POW story and Barack Obama’s history with Chicago politics and money, it leaves the whole idea of personality politics seeming pretty silly.

Without a candidate’s character to go on, all that is left are the issues. As close as they are on so many large issues, I think that there is a clear advantage with regard to the economy, the environment, and as crazy as this is…science - when you look at the Obama campaign.

Look, this isn’t a big deal. It’s not something I am seriously freaked out by. But occasionally since childhood, when sitting on the can, a thought occurs: It sure would be awful if there were something down there, coming to get me.

It could be anything. Snakes. Spiders. “Knifebutt”. Really, I just don’t want anything malevolent back there.

So there we were in Moab, Utah, camp soap in hand, preparing to bathe in Ken’s Lake. We’ve had a great day, hiking around the Fiery Furnace at Arches National Park, and we’re going to hang out with some of the Park Rangers we’ve met. It’s turning out to be one of our more exciting days!

I need to use the public toilet. Looks nondescript, like every one we’ve been to lately- nice clean building with a composting toilet inside. We’re in Utah though, and these buildings aren’t ventilated, so it is HOT inside.

I sit down and do my thing. It’s quiet. Peaceful. There’s a “plop”, and it happens: Flies!! Tens of flies shoot out of the toilet, between my legs. Oh God! I’m not finished yet! I can hear them buzzing around beneath me!

Well, you can connect the dots. I had to sit there and finish while about 30 flies tried to find there way to the nearest exit. The displeasure was palpable. Thank God we were just about to jump in the lake.

A few links that made me laugh

* Hiring Advice From Rudy Giuliani
* Very punny movie poster
* Republicans….fighting the eastern elites!

* John Stewart rolling out the ‘Gotcha’ clip reel

Over the next 24 hours, you’ll start to see a backlog of posts going up with stories about the last month or so. The pictures have been updated with what we think are easily the best groups of the entire trip. Take the time to get through the sets as we had to leave a ton out. Brendan has been working hard on a new category structure that will allow you guys to see posts grouped by the region we’ve traveled through. We’re here in Jackson until Saturday morning and hope to get all caught up.

Here is one of a bunch of videos that are up as well. Check ‘em out.