I bought the ticket to Paris back in January. Joseph, my younger brother, had purchased a ticket to Stockholm, Sweden back in November. He had decided that he would be taking a break from college after completing his third semester. His idea was to bring his bicycle and ride it around the continent of Europe for 92 days. I thought that sounded fun and wanted to join. I suffer from an acute case of FOMO (fear of missing out) that I am working on adjusting to and suppressing. I don’t know where it stems from but I’ve got it bad. I kicked the can for a while before I finally pulled the trigger and bought the ticket.
So that was that. I had a ticket and about three months to fill before I embarked from Denver to Paris. I still had some cash from the previous year’s work but would need to supplement. While I was crashing with Joseph in Durango he and I worked when there was work, as rooftop snow removal technicians. This involves climbing on buildings and shoveling snow from the roof while in a harness connected to a rope on a steeply pitched metal slope. Its arduous labor but it pays well. All the while I was planning a trip along with some others to raft the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. On January 19th I pointed the van Southwest to Flagstaff, AZ.
In Flagstaff, a crew assembled to travel down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. We were spending 16 days in the canyon and it was necessary to meet several days before the scheduled put-in. Those days would be used to collect the gear from the outfitter we were renting from, buy provisions enough for six people for sixteen days, and transport it all 120 miles North to Lee’s Ferry near Page, AZ. All of this was being done with two minivans, which doubled as their owners’ homes.
When that trip was over I had another ten days or so to fritter away so I toured through Southern Utah to see the National Parks there. Zion was first with a hike to the top of Angel’s Landing. I spent one day here. Next was Bryce Canyon and Grand Staircase Escalante. I didn’t do as many hikes as I would have liked. I suppose I’ll have to go back if our National Parks still exist post-Trump. Then it was back to Durango for another short stint before it was time to head to the Salt River.
I have been going to the Salt in the spring for the last few years and felt it would be an excellent way to make a little money and spend some more time away from civilization before I departed for Europe. This year was different from the rest because I had transitioned companies and the water was going to be higher thanks to a larger snowpack. I was anticipating an awesome time and was not disappointed. To finish my time in the Salt River Canyon (SRC) I completed a Swift Water Rescue re-certification that lasted three full days. I’ve been falling more and more in love with being a whitewater professional and this re-certification helped cement that. There’s something inherently great about swimming headfirst through rapids and completing rescue scenarios in the dark. From the SRC it was back to Dunlap for the wedding of my best childhood buddy’s sister.
The drive from Arizona to Iowa was long. I left the SRC with clear skies and a mild wind. Two hours later I crossed the New Mexico state line and filled up with gas. When I went into the gas station it was nice and clear. I filled up my water bottles and walked outside and into a blizzard. I drove for a bit before it got dark and it was time to pull off the Interstate to sleep. When you live in a van, home is where you park it.
The next morning I woke in the West New Mexico desert near an abandoned town I don’t remember the name of. It was on the side of I-40 somewhere down south. From here I crossed the Northwest corner of Texas and experience some of the famous winds of West Texas and the winds of No-Man’s Land of Oklahoma and the winds of Kansas and the wind of Southern Nebraska. Finally, I rolled into Harrison County and after a bit could see the lights of Dunlap from Highway 30 south of town. I was feeling all jazzed from the road so I stopped into one of the two bars of my hometown. One bar is slightly higher in elevation on the main street. One is lower in elevation on the main street. I went to the lower bar where all my friends were. Friends from high school filled the place. As I made the rounds one of my friends made the observation I was stinky. Another commented it was the smell of a man. Either way I hadn’t bathed in a week and was feeling. I decided to be the stink.
bdawgingit 