Life In The Desert

As of the last few days, we have left the grasslands and deciduous forests for a much more desolate landscape. Heading through New Mexico and up North through Arizona and Utah, the scenery has become barren. For miles and miles, there is little except for the monolithic geologic formations. The only thing in the distance that obstructs the views of the surrounding area, is the heat rising off the Earth. The heat creates a shimmering effect warping the distant mountains. The mirages create mirrors off the pavement. It's just how life is in the desert.

Passing through

Life in the fast lane


With a parched throat and cracked lips, this environment makes me smile for some reason. It might be because some of my first memories are playing in the cactus filled desert of Baja. It might also be because the environment is so extreme that it's harshness bewilders me. How does anything survive out here? Months without water and months of extreme temperatures that desert life has to endure. But it's not just the harshness that I find fascinating.

It's partly because time never seems to exist in the desert, yet time is probably most easily seen at desert locations. For example, once when I was a little kid in Baja, I wrote my name in clam shells. Year after year I would come back to that same place and my name would still be there. Nothing changed... until they built a highway over it. Yet, time is also the most existent here. Millions of years of weathering has created the present environment. Millions of years of water movement has created caves, canyons, and the rock formations that we admire today. There is no other environment where time is more apparent.

One thing is for certain to me however. The desert is incredibly beautiful. The Earth meeting the crisp blue sky. The desert air tinted a light lavender color. The rock formations carved away to expose every color of red, orange, and brown. A desert sunrise and a desert sunset. Without a doubt it's a pretty spectacular place in all of it's harshness.

 Valuable words of wisdom

Sunset upon the Grand Canyon

Get Your Kicks On Route 66

“Make a right turn onto that road!”

Swerving off the desolate road onto the exit ramp, I begin applying the breaks.

“Okay, turn left and head towards the town Erick. This is the town where my mother was born in Oklahoma. There isn’t anything in the town but I’d like to show you it.”

Headed down the poorly paved road, I see a faded brown highway sign that says Route 66. Looking around it’s as flat as a pancake and just about as dry as one. Taking my eyes off the road a little too long, I hit a pothole and the van bounces angrily.

“Well now you’ve seen Route 66 too…”

"Well it goes from St. Louis, Joplin, Missouri, Oklahoma City looks ohh so pretty..." - Bobby Troup

Driving past the houses on the outskirts, old rusted Model Ts and Hudsons sit like scarecrows in someone’s yard. Other houses are falling apart from lack of maintenance. A little further up the road, we make it to the main street. The road suddenly widens onto what could be a four-lane road. No cars are on the sidewalk. No people are in the streets. All of the brick buildings hold a thin layer of dust and the insides of the buildings are vacant. The only movement in the town is the stop light changing colors.

Green. Yellow. Red. Green. Yellow. Red. The only problem is that there aren’t any recipients for the lonely stop light.

 

Headed down the small housing district, I ask my grandma, “what do people do out here for work.”

My grandma shrugs and says, “I don’t know, there’s no industry out here or anything…’

Making a loop back into the heart of Erick, I spot something I didn’t notice before. Above an old highway Route 66 sign is a new sign that says “Hometown of Roger Miller ‘King of the Road'.” Beside it another sign embellishes “Route 66 Still Kickin’ Since 1926.”

Looking at my grandma I say “well that’s pretty cool your mom was from the same town as Roger Miller. I wouldn’t say that this place is still kickin’ though.”

My grandma quizzically replies, “who’s Roger Miller?”

Pulling out my Iphone, I play Roger Miller’s song King of the Road. My grandma listening to the words intently exclaims, “that song sounds just like it’s from here! I guess when you grow up in a rural town like Erick, you might have some thing to sing about.”

Turning back onto Route 66, I weave around potholes as we leave town of Erick, Oklahoma, the home of my great grandmother and the singer Roger Miller

Music City - Nashville Tennessee

Stepping off onto Broadway, the old, worn brick buildings towered overhead. Like a well-loved, vintage Beatles t-shirt, the uneven red walls are adorned by weathered paintings of old music venues and record shops. Other newer billboards advertise upcoming concerts of country stars. Crossing the busy streets, musicians and their instruments dart in and out of buildings trying to find a venue to play for the night. Others lucky enough to have a venue, sit on bar stools or on a stage with their band playing songs to an eager crowd.

Broadway Street

Aptly named Music City, it seems like every other building has live music in Nashville, Tennessee. Walking by the music clubs, cymbal crashes, snare hits, and the steady beat of a kick drum can be heard from the depths of the club. The rhythm section may be accompanied by a bluesy guitar lick, or the vocals of a country singer.

The venues of Nashville are not like normal venues where an unknown musician may be decent or mediocre. But instead, each venue is home to incredibly talented musicians. While they might be doing it for fun or for the hopes of a future profession, each one of them has the ability to entertain.

Nashville has been the most Eastern goal of our US road trip. For the last few days we have been exploring the city life, studios, and the famous music venues such as The Grand Ole Opry and the Bluebird Café. These are a few photos from the past few days.

 Elvis' Studio

The show that made country famous

The Bluebird Café is a world renown music venue for up and coming artists. Musicians such as Faith Hill and Taylor Swift got their start here.

Knoxville Tennessee

To read about the beginning of our US Road Trip.

Traveling to Music City - Nashville Tennessee

Climbing up the old metal fire escape, I find what I think is my cousin's window on the second story. Leaning over the railing, I give a couple of knocks on his dorm's window. Not waking up, I knock a little louder. Finally stirring, he rolls out of bed at a snail's pace. He must of had a late night, after all I woke up to texts he was sending at 3am.

Half asleep my cousin says goodbye and I head back to our van parked down the road. Driving out of town, my grandma and I leave the old brick buildings of Grinnell College. Cruising the back roads of Iowa, the roads are eerily empty like in a post apocalypse movie. The landscape surrounding us is made up of barren corn fields. A lonely John Deere tractor tills the fields for this season's planting. Grain silos sit in pairs like old rockets waiting to take off. A giant red barn sits like it's control center nearby.

Horse drawn carriages. It's a real thing in the Mid West

Making our way out of Iowa into Missouri, the corn fields start to turn into deciduous forests. Unlike the trees in Iowa, Spring has reached the Southern trees of Missouri first. The green leaves have already unfurled and are prepared for the sunlight of the new season.

As of now, my grandma and I have made it to our new destination - Nashville Tennessee. Here in the Music City of USA is where we will spend the next few days.

Below are some photos from the Dutch town, Pella located in Iowa.

Heading East

“Hey Wyatt, are you up?”

“Not really grandma, why?”

“Well we should get going…”

Lying on the floor of the Sprinter van, my shoulders are touching both sides of the aisle. Stretched out in my sleeping bag as if it were a straightjacket, I’m shivering. It’s the coldest I’ve been in months and I can see my breath. Rolling over, I click the on button to my Iphone that reads 6:30am.

Currently my grandma and I are driving East to visit my cousin in Iowa and to do some exploring in the Mid West. Waking up outside of Reno Nevada, my grandma and I are on a time crunch to reach my cousin while he has a lull from college testing. Exhausted from driving the day before, we successfully beat an incoming storm hitting the Sierra Nevada Mountains. To reward myself, I only want to curl back into my sleeping bag. My grandma still young at heart thinks otherwise.

Figuring out routes the old school way

My grandma says, “Figure out what’s quicker on your Iphone, taking Highway 80 or Highway 50 to Iowa.”

Groggily I dial in the points of interest.

“Well what does it say?”

“Hold on it’s loading… It looks like Highway 50 is a couple hours shorter.”

“Looks like we’ll take Highway 50. I’ve taken Highway 50 a few times before. It’s the loneliest highway in America. There’s nothing for miles, and miles, and miles.”

Highway 50 - The Loneliest Road In America

                       

Climbing into the front seat, I buckle up and get ready to drive onwards. Turning off onto Highway 50, a well-weathered billboard says, “The Loneliest Highway In America.” Turns out it is the loneliest road I’ve ever been on. For miles it’s vast expanses of sagebrush and brave tumbleweeds that skip across the road. Passing another car is about as rare as a shooting star. It almost seems to be foreshadowing the unpopulated and rural places that lie ahead in the Mid West.

Space landscape located in Utah

Future Forest

Veil Colorado

Photos From Central America

Edited photos from Central America (Panama, Costa Rica, and Nicaragua). Keep posted for more future writing.



Panama - Bocas Del Toro

 Docked at Isla de Carenero Panama

Tropical vibes at Wizard's Beach Panama



Costa Rica - Santa Teresa

 Headed out sea

 Mope moping around

 

Come sail away, come sail away with me...

Nicaragua - Popoyo

Nicaragua - San Juan Del Sur

Nicaragua - Ometepe

 The legendary chicken buses

Nicaragua - Masaya

Costa Rica - Arenal