Patamateria

Footloose and fancy free

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Posts Tagged ‘restrooms’

It’s a bit peculiar to wake up in the bus, with it hurtling around, and not know where you are. The signs on the road indicated we were near a city, as the exits were named ‘Superior Ave’, and other such street names. But no idea which city…. Until I saw another sign for Cleveland Sanitation Services. So we’d reached Cleveland, Ohio, and about an hour later swung off the main road to a car park with a psychedelic toilet block and access to a lovely beach on Lake Erie. We did the usual toilet race then had breakfast and settled with chairs, ice cream, books, suntan lotion etc on the beach for a few hours’ R&R. Very nice!

Early afternoon we set off again in the direction of Buffalo and Niagara Falls, reaching there about 5.30 in the afternoon. Unfortunately some of us were told by an official that the last trip on ‘Maid of the Mist’ was at 6, so we’d missed it. Shame. We went into town on the USA side from Goat Island where we were parked, and had a look at some of the Indian restaurants – one was a van and the other pretty empty…. so we went to the Hard Rock Cafe! and had a pretty good meal there. As luck would have it, or not, we then went down to the observatory point (8.19pm by this time) to take photos, and found we’d missed the REAL last boat which had sailed at 8pm. Bugger. In spite of all this, I found it a beautiful area and was glad not to have tried to go over the bridge to Canada, which was apparently much tackier and tourist-ridden. The river races down towards the two falls areas on either side of Goat Island, quite torrential and foaming green and white in places, and carrying whole tree trunks with it. The parkland on the US side is lovely and tranquil. A pretty spot.

Back at the bus again, some of us watched the fireworks while waiting for the return of those who’d walked across the bridge to Canada. Then we bedded down again, and set off into the night. I had a strange encounter at a toilet stop/petrol station: half-past three in the morning there I was in my pyjamas buying a bottle of water, getting bemused look from a guy who’d just bought petrol – sorry, gas. I then waited outside at the toilet when he came up to me and asked where we were headed. ‘New York’, I replied. ‘You serious? New York, New York?’ he asked. I said yes. Then he asked where we’d come from; ‘London’, I answered. He gave me a look, said ‘Uh’ and got into his car and drove away. Obviously thought I was kidding. Or mad.

So, back to bed, too hot in my sleeping bag and too cool without, due to excellent air-con. Slept a bit, but woke early, did my dressing gymnastics inside my sleeping bag and settled comfortably with my Kindle. We seemed to drive across country for a while – judging from the narrow roads and U-turns in villages we strayed into by mistake! By the time we reached Bethel, the home of Woodstock and our next visit, most people on the bus had woken up. Lush green fields with a memorial to the big gig that America has never forgotten. After breakfast in the car park we spent a few hours at the ‘Museum at Bethel Woods’ as it is now known. What a memory trip! It was great to hear all the music from the 60s – my decade – and see the groups etc. How young they looked….I saw Joan Baez in concert in Cardiff just a couple of years ago, and it was so strange seeing her on film from the Sixties. They also had collections of singles and LPs – some of which I have. Does that make me a museum piece too?

We’re now on the bus again; just stopped at a small town called Liberty to get some shopping. Ice, beer, food for our last breakfast tomorrow. Tonight we’re in Phoenicia at a campsite called Sleepy Hollow; we should be meeting up with Margaret, who left us in Beijing, and Sandra and Tony who left us in Anchorage (but who couldn’t stay away and came to our hostel in Vancouver!). Tomorrow we hit New York, and the trip is over. I have 5 days in the Big Apple, then a few more in London before going home, so need to do washing and sort out my bags, send a parcel or two to myself in Barry, and of course, dye my hair. This is therefore not the last post – there will be more!

The Lower 48 – the road to Yellowstone

We left Seattle just after 8pm, bunked down for the night drive in our sleeping bags and were whisked eastwards. I think. I remember staggering out of the bus in my pyjamas at about 5.30 at Missoula, Montana, to visit a ‘restroom’ in a filling station. Then back to sleeping bag and another sleep until we stopped at Silver Bow Creek near Anaconda for breakfast. Have you ever tried getting dressed inside a sleeping bag? With knees like mine? It’s quite a feat and by the time I get home I’ll be able to do it.

After about 19 hours on the road we still didn’t seem to be getting anywhere, and no one knew when we would reach Jackson, our destination. Half the bus was asleep again by this time, including one of our drivers, as we climbed high into the Rockies, over the top and down to Wilson, Wyoming. The snow covered mountains of the Grand Teton National Park came as a bit of a surprise – the thaw is very late this year and we’ve been told to expect more snow than is normal in June. Heading east and crossing the winding Snake River, we finally got to Jackson at about 4pm – 20 hours after leaving Seattle, which, given the distance, was pretty good going. It pays to have two drivers!
We had a welcome break in Jackson itself – found a bakery with nice fresh food and coffee and then walked around the town for about half an hour. There’s a little park in the centre of this town, with arches made of elk antlers positioned at each corner. Lots of bronze statues of cowboys and local wildlife. A cute little place!

We camped for the night at Colter Bay, on Jackson Lake. I decided to stay on the bus as I really didn’t relish all the work of putting up and taking down the tent just for one night. (I was very glad next morning, after hearing the rain beating on the bus in the night). Anyway, that night we had our first camp cookup: salad, pasta with asparagus, broccoli and masses of parmesan. Very good. They feed us well. As it got darker, we lit a fire – using local wood only as they don’t want to import pests from other parts of the country – and sat round the campfire chatting, watching the flames and listening to Andy strumming his guitar. Very atmospheric! I had a disturbed night in the bus; plenty of room but I couldn’t get comfortable – lots of aches and pains in the morning.

The following morning we set off for Yellowstone National Park proper – entering by the south gate at Jackson. Yellowstone was initially made famous due to its unique geology caused by its location on the North American plate, which for millions of years has slowly moved across a (enormous) mantle hotspot via plate tectonics. The Yellowstone Caldera is a volcanic system, the largest in North America, which has formed as a result of this hot spot and subsequent large volcanic eruptions. And we’re talking big here: the caldera measures 40km by 60km, and when you descend into this area you can see the ring of mountains all around you stretching into the distance.
Then we were off to ‘Old Faithful’ in Yellowstone Park. A great geyser. (Sorry). It spouts at regular intervals – yes, there’s actually a timetable! And the visitors’ centre is really fabulous, with great displays of all the wonderful sights of Yellowstone Park. I’m impressed at how well they do all this and could have spent hours more just reading up on the area. The park extends across Wyoming, Montana and Idaho and is home to grizzlies, elk, bison – we saw a lot of these – and wolves – we saw none. By this time I was noticing the altitude as I had a headache which disappeared after a bit. But general exhaustion, sore muscles and a bit of light-headedness. And an urge to sleep, which I gave in to, sitting on the bus. Some people walked up to Biscuit Basin, so-called because of the biscuit formation around the springs, which unfortunately were partly destroyed by earthquake a few years ago. I did some of the walk, but found the fumes a bit overpowering so hung about near the start just taking photos – such amazing colours! We’re treading on very thin ground here, literally as one of the signs indicated: ‘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 hazards may bubble up overnight and some pools are acidic enough to burn through boots. More than a dozen people have been scalded to death and hundreds badly burned and scarred.’ Sadly, some people felt the urge to dip a finger in, Russian Roulette fashion. Human nature fascinates me.

The camp we were supposed to stay at was closed due to unmelted snow – we’d heard warnings that flooding was expected due to the very late-in-the-season melting of snow. Eventually we got space at Bridge Bay campsite – the highest elevation so far at about 7784 feet. One of the local rangers gave an evening talk on the animals in the park, using skulls to demonstrate their feeding habits. fascinating really. Again I didn’t camp, but stayed in the bus and experienced the coldest night so far. But I spent it very cosily in my sleeping bag, with the inner fleece as well. I got up in the night to go to the toilet – pitch dark, full cloud cover. As I wandered off with a fellow traveller we got onto the wrong section of tarmac; when it ended we realised our mistake, so retraced our steps and got onto the right road. The next morning we saw how close we’d been to the forest…. bear country! Just metres away! Talking of which, Linda found huge bear tracks just a metre or two away from a tent some of the guys were sleeping in. A close call, I think.


Today is Monday 13th June and we’ve just left Yellowstone. We took the road north from Fishing Bridge, stopping at Mud Volcano – the Cooking Hillside – where sulfurous steam engulfed us.Then there were the many, many bison by the roadside, so lots of photos! Some people got out of cars – with their children – hoping for cosy shots of their families with bison. Mad. You have to see the size of these animals.

And then there was the Yellowstone Canyon area which was just magnificent. The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River: a huge gash in the earth, laying bare rock of beautiful colours, and waterfalls crashing down to lower levels. It’s here you realise how Yellowstone got its name. It’s difficult not to keep snapping away with the camera, but nothing is ever a good as the real thing: every shade of ochre, lemon yellow, peach, salmon red, burnt orange – just amazing. But very steep and crumbly, with trees balancing precariously, their roots all exposed but hanging on for dear life.

Leaving the canyon, we climbed up into mountains, then down the other side – I could feel the change in altitude, monitoring it with my body! Such a relief when the slight nagging headache and spaced out feeling faded. We travelled on a road which is closed in winter – and you could see why: it’s June now, but at the roadside there are deep, deep banks of snow which were sliced into in order to free the road up for traffic.

We are now farther north in Montana, having left Yellowstone behind. The last few hours have been spent at Chico Hot Springs, taking advantage of showers, restaurants and wifi. In an hour’s time – 11.30pm – we board the bus for an overnight sleepn’drive in the direction of the Badlands. And then it’s wild camping for a night. No toilets in other words. Just a bus on the prairie……Are we mad? Yes.