writer's block

i've had a few friends visiting me for this portion of the roadtrip, and i'm not really writing that much. instead, i'm thinking a lot about the impending return to the real world, and most of my sentences trail off in to "...yeah..." if i can complete them at all. Because of my inability to string words into sentences, here are a few pictures from the last week.

oblivious to the beautiful scenery, I open two months worth of mail and think about income taxes

sitting by the fire, thinking about getting a job

one of those classic joshua tree storms rolls across the desert:

Damian on a warm-up in J-tree:

on something fun in the happy boulders, bishop

warming up on a traverse in the Druid stones, bishop

take what the road gives

The morning after I picked damian up at the airport, he made me an offer no dirtbag could refuse – a coffee from starbucks. How could I resist? After I was coerced into a grande upsize, we walked back to the car to start the drive to Joshua tree. Over the last week, betsy was getting sluggish to start and this time she just wouldn’t turn over.

I couldn’t help but laugh at my luck. If the car is going to die, what better place to have it happen but with good company, a fresh coffee and in the middle of a city? “Welcome to my roadtrip.” I told damian. You just have to take what the road gives you and for his arrival, the road had given us a car that wouldn't start. I called for roadside assistance while damian retired to the patio with his coffee. When I joined him to deliver the good news that we barely had a 30 minute wait for a tow truck, I found he was chatting with a nicely dressed young man. They both inquired for a status update and the young man, named Jason, was kind enough to offer a jump start. I must admit that I was surprised… everywhere else that I’ve traveled I’ve been gracious to accept the kindness of strangers but for some reason in the big city I didn’t even want to ask anyone for help, and just called AAA right away.

I graciously accepted his offer, and he moved his car next to mine. We hooked up the jumper cables and tried to turn her over. No dice. This time it isn’t just a dead battery. After we gave up, we sat together and talked to him about the trip that I'm on and his dreams of travel. I can completely empathize with anyone who is torn between the lucrative income and possessions of the "real world" and the raw freedom that travelling provides.

Three hours later and betsy has a new starter. It was good to finally get her into a garage to have the problem looked at. It is because of this mechanical blip that the clock in the car is wrong. After having the starter replaced the clock was at least 2 hours off, and has now been that way for a week. I decided that it was a nice touch to not know exactly what time it is and have dubbed it BST – Betsy Standard Time. My car has its own time zone.

We’re driving out of Joshua Tree. I must admit I was a bit disappointed… Joshua tree was like a blind date with someone you’ve heard too much about and it just couldn’t live up to my expectations. The company was good and the climbing was fun, but I was expecting it to be a colossally spiritual place and it just didn’t affect me that way.

Here's hoping that Bishop is all that I've heard and more... I hear it's good quality bouldering surrounded by beautiful snow capped peaks. Fingers crossed that i find my inspiration there...

take it easy

the spring equinox has passed, the roadtrip honeymoon is over. reality has come to take me away. i have realized that i have less than two months left to be on the road. personal obligations and finances dictate the end of my journey.
if there's one thing i detest, it's being rushed. yes i can hurry and no i'm not a slowpoke but i just don't like having to rush. all of a sudden there is a ticking clock over my head and the countdown is running. two months may seem like a long time to be on the road, but after three months i was really just getting into it. i tell myself that in all likelihood, my roadtrip will continue in BC, just with a bit of stability mixed in.
i want to be able to do another trip like this in the fall. i am so scared that i'll be one of those people who talks with sentimental tenderness about that trip they took... they've been meaning to get back out on the road, but hey it's easier said then done.
i love life on the road, and i've really enjoyed my time out here, but it isn't reality, is it?

i don't feel so free anymore. i just got the hang of drifting and floating and now i have woken up in a different location, about to go over a waterfall.
climbing is not as important anymore. it has been a key part of my journey, but is no longer my focus.
joshua tree has been an experience. the sky here is always changing, and it's awe inspiring to watch a storm roll across the desert. it wasn't quite what i was expecting, and i haven't been writing too much lately. however, i have strengthened some friendships that blossomed in hueco - people who have gone from "see you later" to "keep in touch".

i'm ready to move on. i've been here two weeks and that used to not be a long time, but i have so many locations still on my hit list. i crave time by myself again and recognize that the time for sitting in the woods all by myself is very limited. besides, i'm in the desert.

in true roadtrip spirit, though, i don't know where to head next. the coast calls to me, and i really can't believe i'm this far west already. the next stop is probably bishop, where i hope to get obsessed with climbing again.

moon over joshua tree

Monday was the three month anniversary of my roadtrip. the weather was beautiful - warm with no wind. I really like it here, because of both the style of climbing and the people that i've met. to climb in joshua tree, you have to relax about grades - it's friction climbing and some people find it very challenging, call it a sandbag, and leave. The people who stay are just great

the weekend was filled with snow, so there was no climbing action. on saturday i found myself in the back of an SUV full of californians, passing a bottle of johnnie walker red and talking. Almost all of the people that i have met in joshua tree i would like to stay in touch with.

Last night was the full moon - another reason i'm in joshua tree. it was easy to convince people to go climbing, and i got a great night session in on a supposed rest day. i was very pleased with my session since i completed two problems that i found difficult on my first day here.

here i am, the only picture i have of myself climbing in joshua tree so far....

send or be left out:

max finishes up the highball classic white rastafarian by the light of the moon

i can see for miles

My last day in flagstaff I wrote two words on a page of my journal: get lost. This is one of my pet peeves, and i decided to put myself through it on purpose. The sociological science experiment that i am conducting on myself continues. I spent the day driving around the city and learned to be okay with not knowing precisely where i am. I stumbled upon a few interesting stores to poke in, and I felt like I really got to know the city. I thought of little errands to run: find a cafe, and buy stickers for the car.

The morning I left flagstaff was very grey and cold. I ordered too large of a coffee at the local café and said farewell to the coolest town ever with a good quality brew. As I hit the road I felt as grey as the skies above, but as time went on I could feel the road take its hold on me again. The excitement builds as I realize that I am going to a state I’ve never been in before, via a route I didn’t spend a lot of time planning. I am going to Joshua tree.

The drive went a lot faster than I had anticipated. It's a very straight and downhill drive so i drove with my notebook on my lap, just writing down whatever came into my head. I am probably having the time of my life. I've always thought in words and full sentences, so i wrote page after page while watching the landscape tranform from plush mountain forest to scarred desert. I think about the last ten years of my life and how that on this trip I’ve really learned how to float - to be an observer and follow the currents of life.

As i drove into Joshua tree, I found that it looked nothing like I expected. It is around 4,000 feet and is a large park that encompasses many mountains. I was expecting open desert with little marble-like granite boulders scattered to and fro. This place is huge.

I drove around the campground and was happy to see cars that belonged to some friends I made in hueco. I’ve emerged from my time alone in the woods and I’m ready to be social again. We had a great reunion, but I still passed up their offer to go climbing that afternoon. Instead I drove into town, sort of to get my bearings. I ran some contrived errands and realized that I was in a mild form of shock – shock at having finally made it to Joshua tree. I have been trying to make it here for three years, and now here i am just driving around like it's just another day. As I drove back into the park, I realized something: I’m coming home to Joshua tree. I have finally made it here, I have traded the forest of trees for one of rocks. This place has such an energy and I can’t believe I finally made it.

out of control

so the weather forecast was right. i bouldered as much as i could yesterday while the clouds rolled in. at first they were beautiful fluffy clouds and the gradually they got darker, denser and a tad bit menacing.
i bouldered with the other two guys camping at the draw who are in various stages of roadtripping. they were both great spirits and i was really comfortable with them. I was in good company: nice climbers, ancient trees, and overhanging rock.
i drove into town as planned to use the internet and phone. my phone card ran out of minutes, and the internet cafes were closed. the snow was really flying as i drove back out to the campsite.

I wasn't sure what to do. Both guys had moved on due to the weather and i was bracing myself for another night in my car. i made a peanut butter sandwich, and a decision. i'm going to stick it out in the storm. i crammed as much as i could into the car (still leaving room for a sleeping jessica) and covered the other things with a tarp. time to ride out the storm.

i got in the car just in time, the rain was getting pretty heavy. i was treated to a thunder and lightning storm as well and my already overactive imagination went into overdrive. what about ferocious forest beasts? forest drifters that like to kill dirtbag drifters? in a lightning storm are you supposed to be in the car or out of the car? i decided that in the car was the better option but that this was not the time to go hug some trees on the top of an exposed mountain. what if lightening strikes a tree and it hits my car?

again on my trip i am learning to rescind control of life. i really just have to ride the waves, and i'm getting used to letting go of life. there's only so much you can control and i can certainly control how i feel. i tell myself that i feel fine about sleeping out in the storm, and then also realize that at some point on this trip i have discarded my fear of the dark.

my night of sleep, the third spent in my car is a lot less comfortable then it has been. i crawl into my sleeping bag and cover myself with the purple and pink comforter that i bought in tennessee. it's my uber-female comfort blankie. i think i parked on a bit of an angle, and i keep waking up. At first i wake up and it's bright, i look up and out the windshield and i am treated to a clear break in the clouds revealing the moon above. full moon is in less than a week, and it's getting pretty bright at night these days. the next time i wake up, i see that the windows on the car are frosting up. too much moisture. i roll down the window a bit more and go back to sleep. i wake up again and it's after the moon has set so it's really dark. i see that the car is surrounded by a dense fog like cloud. nice, i'll barely be able to see my way out of here in the morning. back to sleep. i woke up again and this time it's bright out. sun's up! i toss the blanket off my head and see that it wasn't fog at night, nor are the windows frosted.

snow.

i'm so happy. i am canadian after all, and i've missed the snow. i was secretly hoping that this would happen when i visited flag. i've been snowed out. i pack everything into the car and drive. Where? I'll figure it out as i go.

tree hugger

I’m so happy for the change of scenery and a return to the woods. I’m at the highest elevation so far on the trip – 7,000 feet in Flagstaff, Arizona. When I was driving up here last night it took me a while to realize why it felt so cozy - i'm around trees again.

I met up with a friend I haven’t seen in a few years. I met her just after she started climbing at the age of 12. she’s a woman now, enrolled in university and living on her own. It’s great to be able to talk with her as an adult, about adult things. It’s a new stage of my life that I can be friends with someone a decade younger than me who is now an adult. We went to the gear shops and tried on hats and jackets. It’s great to have a girlfriend to talk to now. In hueco it was mostly guys and generally speaking once they realize that they may be unable to bed you, they seem to disappear. It’s tough to make friends under those circumstances.

She showed me around Flagstaff today, and then around the climbing area, Priest Draw. I really like the climbing here. Besides being in the forest, it’s also my all-time favourite climbing style: overhanging pockets. We worked on a few problems and I can feel that my dynamic ability is much stronger since hueco. The first challenge of a new climbing area is to trust your feet. I have gone through this at every new bouldering destination and she showed me enough that I can work on a few things tomorrow on my own.

I have a neighbour tonight. He’s just started his six month road trip, it’s his first time camping after having friends to crash with for the first two weeks of travel. I must say that I admire his choice in location. We are miles into a national forest, completely unserviced. No running water, no outhouse. I have also reached a new level of dirtbagging. I’m hooked on sleeping in my car now, and refuse to pitch the tent only for a few nights. Now that I’ve come to terms with living in my car, I may as well adopt it as my proper address. I’ve gotten the hang of moving things around in it so I can stretch out as much as possible.

It’s great to be cold again. The temperatures in el paso hit summer status to me – highs around 28C. I just feel like it’s too early in the year to be tanned. i’ve retreated high into the mountains for another reason too. I’m taking a small leave of absence from people. It’s time for some mental training. I’m going to try to use up the food I have with me and go for some long walks in the woods.

I traveled up here in good spirits last night. The two guys I met up with in phoenix yesterday were definitely cool and laid back and just treated me like just another human being. This was great after being in hueco and surrounded by the young party scene. They took me on some trad SLAB multipitch just outside of phoenix. It was interesting to switch from bouldering to trad and I really enjoyed myself. I took every opportunity I could to hand or fist jam since I am probably on my way to Joshua Tree next. I left their company in a really good mood - it's good to make new friends on this trip and they were just really good people, plain and simple.

After being in hueco, I need a break from the crowds. In the woods I have a degree of privacy, I can go running on the trails and I’m on my own. Hueco was more serious about climbing than I like to be, and more laid back about life then I like to be. Having to be so organized to climb, planning your time with reservations months in advance and then the lifestyle of partying at night just really went against the way I am.

I’m in the woods at 7,000 feet for some mental training. I like to be cold and I missed that about Tennessee. The desert is great and when I descend from the mountain range I’ll post some pictures of cacti and desert life, but for now I am surrounded by ancient trees. There’s something about being in the forest that makes you feel like you’re never alone. In hueco I was never alone as well, but this is different company. I always have a bit of a smile since it’s the same feeling I had in Tennessee, the feeling of being at one with the earth. Since I’m at a higher elevation, I have swapped back the sports bra and shorts for the fleece pants and down jacket. When it’s cold out I feel like I am getting stronger, physically and mentally. Bring it on.

life is long

I’m not as impressed by Arizona as I thought I would be. I’m always suspicious when a state lacks welcome centers at the border. In the cafe in Tucson I heard from my contact in phoenix about plans to climb the next day. I look up directions to the climbing area he mentioned and see that there is some unserviced camping in the campground there. I also make notes about two state parks on the way there, and hit the road. I stop at first state park around my usual bedtime, but it’s so close to the interstate that I can count the taillights and hear the cars go by. It’s time to push on. I reach Phoenix and fatigue hits - my coffee has worn off all the way. I’m driving by any optimal exit, looking for exit names that don’t exist. Eventually I get my bearings after pulling over a number of times to check the map.

The park’s website said that the gate closes at 10pm, so when I finally arrive, I’m relieved to see that it’s still open. I drive into the campground and see a sign is up at the entrance: Campground Full. It can't be. I drive around looking for the unserviced $5 camping I read about online to no avail. I find a pay phone to call my contact in phoenix and as I pick up the receiver, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say. Am I asking for a place to stay? Asking for advice? Just calling for some sympathy about the campground being full? What do you say when you call a person you that you don’t really know? I dial but change my mind and quickly hang up to retrieve my change. I can't ask for help - not yet.

I drive back to the campground and pull up by the host trailer to look at the map on the bulletin board, again seeking the unserviced camping I read about online. A small older lady appears and asks me if I need assistance. I apologize for bothering her, and apologize again for my state of mind, explaining that I’ve been on the road for a bit and may not make much sense. “I’m looking for the unserviced camping I read about online.” She tells me that there is no unserviced camping, it's an RV park and that I must have read about the $5 per person unserviced group camping. I’m not a group, so no dice.

I tell her I can't afford the $18 and excuse myself to go elsewhere. She hesitates and then asks if I’m staying for just one night. I hope I know where this is going, so I tell her that I’m meeting people to go rock climbing in the morning and I promise to leave very early. “Are you sleeping in your car?” She asks, and then adds, “you wouldn't want to pitch a tent in the dark.” I have been on the road for almost 3 months and never slept in my car. It looks like now is the time. Yes, yes, I tell her, I can sleep in my car. I’m more than happy to sleep in my car. I would love to sleep in my car. I would love to sleep. She tells me she'll show me a site I can park on. Do I understand her properly? Is she saying I can stay there?

I move things around in the car to give her a spot in the front seat and she takes me to the site. I’m so grateful (and tired) that I can barely begin to express myself. She tells me that I’m welcome to park on this site and then shows me the power and water hookups in case I need them. All I can do is keep saying thank you.

We introduce ourselves, her name is Sara. I tell her what I tell every Sara I meet: that was my name when I was in the womb, but my brothers all have names that start with J so they vetoed Sara and instead Jessica was chosen. Sara says that she wants to tell me something she told her husband earlier. She prefaces it by saying “I’m not a religious person, but,” and then goes on to tell me that there were people on this site, but they left earlier that day. She told her husband that this must have happened for a reason. The site had been paid for and she wasn’t surprised when I showed up in need of it.

I wake up literally at the crack of dawn, and watch the sun rise above the mountains. I’m rested, but cramped from sleeping in the car. There is an art to it, and if I try to curl up on my side like I’m accustomed to sleeping, the leg I’m resting on falls asleep. By the early morning hours I figured out how to remain as stretched out as possible, and still sleep.

I pack up quickly so I can drive to the picnic area, and vacate my campsite as early as possible like I promised Sara. While I’m rearranging my earthly possessions back into the car, it hits me. I really do live in my car now. No fixed address has turned from an offhand remark to a reality. While I’m driving to the picnic spot, all I can think is "what am I doing?" I have no idea where I’m going to sleep tonight, and it will probably be in my car again. I live in my car, I’m meeting up with strangers to climb today, I don’t know where I’m going, and I’m not even sure what I’m doing at this point. It feels like I’ve put my emotions in a blender and set it to “chop.” I have to get control of myself before it progresses to “puree.” I’ve come this far, and I’m meeting new people today. I can’t expect to foster any sort of friendship while I’m in such a weak state of mind.

I flashback to a conversation I had before I left Canada. it was with a girl that had traveled by herself a number of times. I asked her for any sort of advice and she told me that there will be times where you just have to believe that things will be okay. The universe will take care of you. I remembered this advice at just the right time and I can feel myself calm down. Things like what happened with Sara the night before really help me to believe in people, and believe that things will be okay. I chose to remove myself from society, to leave my stable job, and live on the road. There’s no need for surprise at my circumstances now, since this is the path I chose. I accept the advice I was given and I will myself to believe things will be okay. I start to get excited again about being on my own, and the people that I’m going to meet today.

Just believe, and just be.

advancement day

i awoke just before sunrise and i did two more hot springs dunks before leaving to hit the road again. this time i'm well rested and the feeling of freedom is pure exhilaration. i love watching the scenery go by, and in the desert it's a full 360 degree view, with the horizon trimmed by distant mountains. nudity is really quite liberating, and i feel so light after soaking in the hot springs.

i reach the fork in the road that says el paso. i can feel the gravitational pull of hueco tanks. it's really only a couple hours away. but no. i'm on this trip to be on my own, and on my own today i certainly shall be. next stop, an internet cafe in tucson, arizona.

my great uncle bill, an amazing person with a great sense of humour, always called march fourth "advancement day". get it? march 4th... march fourth... march forth. ha. ha. but i always remember his joke on march 4th and today is certainly an advancement day. i'm a map fiend but yesterday i drove off the edge of the only map of the USA that i owned. i feel even more free and am further released from any navigational ties when arizona does not have a welcome centre on the border. for the first time on my trip i don't have my location pinpointed on a map next to me. i'm driving all alone with nowhere to be.

i need a certain amount of drama in my life to be inspired, and i'm overflowing with inspiration now. i can't stop writing. thoughts flow while i drive, and not talking to anyone means that my thought patterns are never interrupted. i can't believe it. i used to lie in bed awake at night wishing i could get up the courage to do my solo roadtrip, preferably with betsy. i wanted to drive her across the southwest states by myself, and since she's such an old car, time was of the essence. i can't believe i'm doing it now.

traverse the desert, dodging tumbleweed, girl, you really did it.

to pass the time i made up some bad roadtrip haiku. enjoy.



camera on lap
eddie poses and says cheese
the mountains go on

music is so loud
mountains on horizon tell
me where should i go

the author does not endorse or support the act of writing while driving. Keep your eyes on the road, for the love of god!

all she wants to do is drive

on the road again, i have released myself from the grasp of hueco tanks. it was so difficult to leave and i think it hit me when i counted back in my calendar and realized i had been there for a month. time to go.

though most of the time i was lost in the crowds, i did make some good friends during my stay. the people i met all seemed to arrive at the point where it was time to leave, but this time it was i who had to leave. i didn't even really feel like climbing another day and was starting to feel lazy. lazy and happy to hang out, which doesn't make me feel very good about myself. it was time to move on. when i packed up the car almost everyone had gone climbing so i didn't get to say good-bye to too many people. i feel a bit bad about that, but they're also on the road so i hope they understand and perhaps we shall cross paths again.

leaving was tough to do, and i miss hueco. i was there long enough that the place felt a bit like a home to me - as close to a home as you can get when living out of your car on the road. it's like i've started my roadtrip all over again and while driving i feel a bit melancholy about the whole thing.

so i did the only thing feasible. i got naked.

i got to say good bye to one friend and talked with him about my departure. when he asked me where i was going to go, i just said that i was going to go look for a state park to visit and camp by myself, in search of solitude. he suggested city of rocks in new mexico. i was determined to make it to arizona, but when i reached the new mexico border (13th state visited on this trip i think... i've lost count or don't care to count anymore) i stopped at the welcome centre and picked up a few travel brochures.

i found that the city of rocks state park was just a mile away from the hotsprings i had wanted to visit. earlier in the week i did a search online and found hotsprings with camping. then i stayed an extra day hoping to visit them on a rest day with others, but of course everyone had stuff to do. now the fact that they showed up on the map down the street from the state park my friend had mentioned, i couldn't resist. besides, the speed limit here is 75 which is about 120 kilometres an hour. betsy doesn't really like to go over 60mph so the drive is a bit longer than mapquest thought it would be.

first time on this trip that i've camped in a location without arriving with a friend or expecting to meet a friend.

i've soaked in the hot springs twice tonight and everyone here is so relaxed and chilled out. i was hoping it wasn't going to be a swingers nudist colony, and if there's any of that i surely haven't seen it. my favourite pools were 106F and 103F. i can feel my worries slipping away as i soak, and a sense of calm comes over me. i haven't been to hot springs very much in my life, and i've never been by myself. now i understand why everyone here is so relaxed. i sat in the pool watching the stars and tracking my favourite constellations. it's a great first day back on the road. i think i'm going to stay on my own a bit longer.

here are a few pictures of some of the friends i made in hueco.

brena from california reaching the top out on one of the small potatoes boulders

laura from texas working on mushroom roof

yuri of colorado cruises through "hercules" at the icarus boulders

raphael from quebec working the start on the daily dictose

rachel of texas finishes the direct face problem on the warm up boulder

dustin from new orleans cranks through babyface - taylor spots

matt from north vancouver topping out the scary highball on double vision boulder

quit hueco, hit road

i'm making a break for it. i woke up early to hit the line up and didn't make it in the gate at 8am. i just don't feel like hanging out again today, so i'm going to drive.
packing up the car now and feeling good about the decision. tomorrow is my one month anniversary here, i have no idea how i lost track of time and thought it was just a few weeks. time flies when you're on the road.