Maybe I'm back?

I've been thinking about writing more.

This platform is just here, waiting, so maybe I'll use it?

Personalizing the Green River

Dan and Lisa -- my dear friends and ex-Earthworks coworkers -- introduced us to western rivers with a 6 day, 40+ mile wilderness float on the Green River in Utah, just above where it enters Canyonlands National Park (Ruby Ranch to Mineral Bottom, for those who know about these things).

Before this trip, the Green River has been almost mythical to me: John Wesley Powell; the epitome of beyond the 100th meridian; a wilderness remnant, soldiering on into the 21st century.

I have since learned that pissing in a river for a week* demythologizes it.  We are now intimates -- me, my river trip companions, the Green River, and the tens of millions of Los Angelenos, Las Vegans, Phoenix-ites and everyone else who will soon be drinking (and my have already drunk!) my urine.

I compose myself after taking care of business.
Photo thoughtfully provided by Dan Randolph

Urine aside, I can't recommend a float on the Green River highly enough.  Jawdropping scenery + blessed solitude = enforced serenity.  And that's the serenity I need; it's not coming to me spontaneously.

Hope to post more on the River float, meeting Mike and Max Eisenfeld, and more pics, later.

*Dan Randolph, river man, informs me (and the BLM corroborates) that one must urinate directly into the Green and NOT into the beaches or other areas near the river.  He tells me that there isn't enough water in the land to decompose urine solids (urea?) -- and so if we were to pee on the land (and others did the same) we would cause it to stink (and presumably burn it, the same way overfertilizing does).

The Cumberlander rejects the tyranny of chronology

Writing from Chez Sampat-Hensler in Albany, CA.  Tomorrow we pick up the other half of the Septoff-Keech Kollective at the Oakland International Airport.  "Eager" would not be the wrong word to describe us.

As you may have noticed, we have been away from the internet.  "Away" physically and mentally.

Now we are back and probably will be for some time.  

But I'm not going to try to cover this trip day by day ("Day X: blah blah blah).  Too much like work.

Day 6: Travel day -- Hays, KS to Alamosa, CO

Not much to report.

Decided in advance to hotel it so we could watch Game 7 of the Heat-Celtics series.  Boo Heat!

There is a decided odor to our vehicle at this point.  I suspect forgotten food squirreled away by the back seat resident.

Driving across western Kansas/eastern Colorado is an experience in flatness.  Saw some antelope in Colorado.

Day 5: the Arch, REI & Kansas hotels

Woke up at Edmund Babler Memorial State Park outside St. Louis, went to sleep in Hays, Kansas Sleep Inn  (541 miles).

A full day: tourism, consumerism, drivingism?, and a brief encounter with the sordid side of life.

Tourism: the Arch
Returned to the Arch for the first time in 20 years.  Last time here, went up with Cheryl (pre-Sabo!)  and Keil and Serena (I think).

It looks as impressive as it did 20 years ago.  What I didn't recall was that the closer you get, the more impressive it looks.

The Park Service has entered into a partnership with a private vendor to run the system (tram to the top, riverboat cruises, etc).  They call the partnership the "Core" of Discovery.  Which they probably mean to be clever -- but every time I read it I think: you spelled it wrong, idiots.

Mitch was impressed,  but not as engaged as I might have hoped.  Not interested in any of the history.  I think the highlight was the tram ride to the top.

Consumerism: REI

Mitch still needed some gear for the river trip, so we stopped by REI.  In addition to raincoat, sunglasses and fleece, we got a hammock ratchet.  

A hammock ratchet is just a dead simple way to attach the hammock the tree -- which feels like cheating, until I stop and think about (a) how inept I am with knots and (b) how much time it takes me to sling a hammock with just rope and knots.  Know your limits, I say.

Drivingism: St. Louis to Hays, KS

We used priceline to buy  room in Salina, KS -- which was a perfect length drive.  But it didn't work out -- and the town was full-up for some festival, so we pushed on to the next sizable town.

Sordid: our initial hotel

The directions to our priceline hotel steered us into sketchier and sketchier parts of Salina, KS.  When we finally arrived, at 10:30-11, it was a place that looked like it rented rooms by the hour.  Beater cars in the 3/4th empty parking lot (when the rest of the hotels in town were jammed with festival goers), guy in a sweat stained wife beater just hanging out on the 2nd floor balcony eyeballing us as we registered.

I would have risked it anyway.  But then we went into the room.  

The sheets had not been changed in who-knows-how-long.  We could tell this because: (a) they were stained with who-knows-what, (b) there were hairs all over the place and (c) there appeared to be roach droppings on the pillows and toilet.

Word to the wise: if you threaten a hotel manager with negative reviews (and pictures) on yelp and travel advisor, they will sometimes (after initial refusal) refund your money even though they are not obliged to by your priceline contract.

And that's how we wound up at the Sleep Inn in Hays, about 100 miles further down the road.

Day 4: Six Flags

Woke up at Edmund Babler Memorial state park.

Eggs and good bacon for breakfast: mmmm.

Went for a brief run in what is a CCC park.  Wonder how the locals feel about their park, the federal govt that built it, and taxation to maintain it.  Incidentally, the MO state park online presence is excellent in function and design.

Six Flags

Six Flags St Louis was fun.  We discovered that Mitch loves the whirly-toss-your-cookies rides, while I prefer the roller coasters.  Mitch was REALLY jazzed for his first grown-up roller coaster, until he actually went on one.  It was a bit more intense than he was expecting.  Fun though.

His highlight, apart from supreme whirly-toss-your-cookies ride (the Excalibur -- imagine a 150 foot tower that spins you upside down) was the Tidal Wave.  Both the riding part and the getting splashed part.

Riding:

Splashing:

We also discovered that Six Flags' strategy to leave bankruptcy behind is to try and trap as much consumer surplus as humanly possible: they are SHAMELESS about upselling pretty much everything.  Getting off rides forces you through gift shops.  You're asked to upgrade your ticket about every other moment.  You pay to get in the park, and then you pay more to ride premium rides.  This on top of a $50/head entrance fee.  In sum: fun was had, don't recommend it.

There is a water park attached to Six Flags, and we would have used it -- but they don't tell you that, unlike the rest of the park which closes at 10, the waterpark closes at 6.  Very very disappointed Mitchell.

Consolation prize for Mitch: movie night in the tent.

I suddenly become a geek in overlarge shades

Hey, sorry, Dad took a picture of me in my new sunglasses and raincoat. Look. So I nearly get overheated and when we finally roll into our new hotel I'm literally cross-eyed with tiredness. no big deal, right? O.K. O.K. maybe it's a big deal, but on the upside I'm not dead.