Often the last leg of my trips is simply about getting home. However, this time I wasn’t shooting to break land speed records so I wove in a few interesting distractions into each day. Given the new path I had chosen for my return, finding new things wasn’t difficult.
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Boulder … Denver … Colorado Springs, all major Colorado cities sitting at the edge of the Great Plains with their backs to the Rockies. All relatively close to one another and all very worthy of exploration. Here I paused for two days in my cross-country drive to get exercise and enjoy the uncharacteristically warm weather.
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Time to meander home. Why “meander”? The fact is that all the primary east-west routes via the Interstate Highways I’ve already explored. Sure, there’s alway more to see but they’re not the rich passageways as they once were. By taking secondary highways and especially diagonal highways I come across abundant new veins of discovery to mine.
Not in keeping with the above, I started down the Columbia River Gorge which I love, love, love to drive. However, once I emerged on the east side of the Cascade Mountains I jumped on a quiet road, the John Day Highway, to the National Monument I had once visited too briefly. Then I cut east through the Blue Mountains to historic Baker City.
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I will look for ANY excuse to spend time in San Francisco and this trip I had plenty but primarily Macworld 2011 and visiting incubators. In addition, I’d committed to doing more urban hiking while in good weather and there’s no place like the Bay Area to find good weather. From here I’d head north for my original primary goal, to attend my cousin’s wedding in Portland.
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When I choose a theme I can’t help but wrestle it to the ground. The Nixon and Reagan Presidential Libraries are both in Southern California so to keep progressing down my list of the 12 managed by the National Archives I visited them both. Nixon’s was very good but interestingly the Watergate section is still not finished; Reagan’s was in an amazing location but key sections were closed due to preparation for his 100th birthday celebrations. I’ll have to return to Reagan’s because too much was unavailable and I might as well visit Nixon’s again to see if they ever finish Watergate.
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Could I visit the last of NPS sites in Arizona on this trip? Perhaps not but I was going to try. If only I could keep from becoming distracted by serendipitously discovered sites worth visiting, beautiful locations worth taking pictures of, or parks worth hiking. For me, this tension always exists.
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I’ve had this silly idea about driving the perimeter of the continental United States. It’s not been something I focused on seriously until one day I realized I’d driven about 90% of it. “Wow!” I thought “So why not make it a goal to finish?” A quick inventory identified a gaping hole: the Texas Gulf Coast.
So into the fabric of this trip I wove a drive from Port Arthur to Brownsville. This included places like famous Galveston island with it’s amazing beaches and horrendous weather history. Corpus Christi and the fabulous coastline of Mustang Island. Also included was the Padre Island National Seashore which was on a separate list too, that of visiting all National Parks. Nothing like killing two birds with one stone!
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In a movie at the NPS visitors center Jimmy Carter says that when he was young, a trip to Plains was a trip to the “big city”. My goodness! Arriving in Plains felt like arriving at a crossroads, there was very little substance. The boyhood home was another three miles down the road in the middle of absolutely nowhere. In a sense it really is amazing that someone from the hinterlands became president of the world’s most powerful nation.
In truth, I really enjoyed my visit to Plains because it was so untouched and genuine. I walked around in his boyhood home, strolled the hallways of his high school, stopped by the house where Jimmy courted Roselyn, drove by his current residence, and saw all that lay in between. There was the train depot which they used as campaign headquarters for the presidential campaign. There were the grounds of his father’s farm and the outhouse they were happy to finally leave behind when they got an indoor toilet. It was all so real.
However, it really was in the middle of nowhere!
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After four hours of meetings I still had energy and enthusiasm to get out and see some of Atlanta. This city is rich with interesting things to do: tour CNN, visit Coca Cola HQ, see the Olympic Park, and much much more. I chose to continue two quests started long ago: to visit as many presidential museums and civil rights memorials as I can manage.
Down a long narrow parkway called Freedom Park are important sites of two native Georgians: President Jimmy Carter and Doctor Martin Luther King Jr.
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Asheville? I’d never heard of it. Sad how ignorant I can be.
After abandoning my second attempt to drive the complete Blue Ridge Parkway due to road closures I headed for Asheville, NC. It’s located in the western portion of the State. This was not my chosen destination because I had done research and knew what was there. Instead it was simply where I had planned to stay after completing the parkway drive.
I found Asheville to be substantial. The music and art scenes are really vibrant as evidenced by what can only be described as an excessively lopsided ratio of galleries to residents. The Biltmore Estate is located here and it is America’s largest private residence which, at $59 to access, is a house I will probably never tour. Chimney Rock would have been a great hike had I the time. Asheville is hilly, has a river winding through it, has tunnels all around, has an historic downtown … it’s got a lot going for it. Perhaps I’ll return one day.
On my way to Atlanta I made one stop: The BMW Museum. Their U.S. facility where BMW makes all of their X3, X5, and X6 cars is located in Spartanburg, SC. Also at this plant is a Performance Driving School. Not being a particularly rabid fan of BMWs I expected to spend only a few minutes walking around. Then I saw several of the tiny BMW Isetta cars, the same cars I fell in love with when I lived in Chile. So, ladies and gentleman, below I inflict you with pictures from the museum. Check ‘em out.
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