Hello, welcome in!

Where to begin. What to say. How to capture this mammoth adventure in the states.

A spectacular 42 days, spread across 22 places. 13 of those in our cute lil orange home. 4090 miles driven. I have likely driven more miles on US roads than UK ones. Crazy far. Possibly too far. Ambitious. Decadent. Hard bloody work at times. Worth it though.

Already, as I am writing this the memories are not as fresh as they once were. As always happens, time and new experiences overlay the old. That is a challenge with a road trip, new experiences come thick and fast one barely has time to register, savour and appreciate a place before moving on.

Preserving some of the essence of our adventure is a primary motivation for writing these words. I hope my future selves will care - hi!

Of course there is also my family and friends and the expectation that comes with having done this before. An expectation that weighs heavy as the trip recedes into the past.

My sticker collection tells a version of this story.

I will attempt another. Here goes.

On The Road

Our car, a flashy Nissan Altima, was a delight. Comfortable, cool and a pleasure to drive. Automatic naturally. Full of sensors and gizmos.

Sure it took a while for us to appreciate it fully, work out its features and ease into navigating the US roads. The drive from the airport went surprisingly well, a gentle introduction. The night drive from Ventura to Santa Barbara was sketchy, made more challenging by the fact we hadn't yet worked out how to get the headlights on the right setting.

Gradually we worked ourselves up from short, beautiful drives along the coast on Highway One or into the mountains on the 154, to more challenging, stressful, longer drives. Such as into San Francisco on our first monster 6 plus lane freeway, or the mammoth drive to the Olympic National park and back again. Then there was the horrendous 12 hour day, from Westwood, round Lake Tahoe and into Yosemite National Park. We don't like to talk about that day ;).

Kathy even chipped in with some driving. After an quick driving lesson round Erica's Ventura neighbourhood, she went from a tentative, nervous noob to rather good by the end of our trip. It sure was a relief to share the load sometimes.

Our Altima, was our home for the duration. We spent many an hour in this little cocoon, observing the world flashing by. The time passed pleasantly, with among other things an educational agenda of podcasts and audio books and the like. All with a slant towards the country and its histories that we were travelling through.

Here is a summary, because certainly this material influenced my time in the states and influences these words I am writing now.

Cotton Capital, The Guardian's introspection of its ties to the slave trade after discovering it was founded by cotton merchants from Manchester, many of whom had links to, held stakes in and directly profited from slave plantations throughout the Americas. A fascinating, honest examination that brought up challenging questions of entrenched inequality and reparative justice. Travelling through the US, it is impossible to ignore how these histories have shaped the country. The series also highlighted, the role Britain, as a primary consumer of the fruits of slave labor, played in driving the slave trade. Even after they officially declared slavery illegal.

The Red Power Movement: From Alcatraz to Standing Rock. A sweeping lecture from Nick Estes covering the history of indigenous resistance against US oppression and devastation of their lands and ways of life. Inspired by our visit to Alcatraz Island, whose occupation in 1969 by Native Americans is widely recognised as instigating the Red Power movement. There are indigenous people and communities throughout the West Coast, from the Chumash tribes of the Channel Islands, Ventura and Santa Barbara to the tribes of the Olympic peninsula or those that called Yosemite valley their home. However, it seemed clear that they had been displaced, forgotten and overlooked. It saddens me to think of the ways of knowing and relating to these lands that have been lost through this processes of displacement.

The Nutmeg's Curse. A deep, thoughtful analysis of the climate crisis and its causes. Attributing its roots, not primarily to capitalism but empire, settler-colonialism and the accompanying mindset that views the natural world as purely an inanimate resource to be extracted, subjugated and dominated. Devoid of stories, meanings and agencies of its own and therefore unable to shape or participate in the life that emerges within its spheres of influence. Cannot recommend this book highly enough.

Bad Mexicans, a book looks at the relationship between Mexico and the US in the borderlands at the start of the 20th century. Another story of exploitation and colonisation, as the southern US states sought to replace slave labour with cheap Mexican labour in what some describe as Juan Crow. As well as the wealthy, white US citizens who bought up key infrastructure and vast plots of land across Mexico, displacing many indigenous populations who called these places home. All with the blessing of the Mexican elite under the dictator Porfirio Diaz. The Mexican influence throughout the West Coast was obvious, no doubt in my mind they have made the states a richer, more lively, interesting place. A shame they do not get the recognition or respect they deserve.

Of course there is only so much of this kind of thing one can take in one sitting. So we interspersed it with tunes, I especially enjoyed listening to some of Nightmares on Wax's old albums like Carboot Soul or Feelin' Good. Or we simply soaked in the views. Which were often stunning. Driving through Avenue of the Giants, or into Yosemite National Park over the Tiogo Pass were a couple of the absolute highlights.

We loved our little altima, even wrote a poem about it.

A Strange and Distant Land

One thing that struck me throughout our journey was how clearly different these lands were to the ones I call home. Strange, exotic and full of life. Just not life that I recognised with any kind of familiarity.

SoCal had giant cacti.

Hedgerows and bushes of succulents.

And the most incredible trees.

Flowering gums.

Who knew trees could flower?

Or cacti could be so jazzy.

It is as if the SoCal vibe has seeped into the plant life, with each wanting to express and impress with their unique individuality. Or perhaps it is the land itself, basking in sunshine and never far from seaside vistas and a cool breeze imbues these effects on all beings who live within its presence.

Then there was the crazy evergreens of Carmel. Windswept and wild. I loved these trees.

And of course the towering, ancient redwoods of Northern California.

Staggering.

Jaw dropping.

A real natural wonder of the world. Standing in a grove of redwoods, makes it hard to ignore that while the US and its borders are a relatively new construction these lands and the life they have sustained stretches deep into the past.

As we wound our way ever more north, the redwoods were replaced by firs, spruce, cedar and pine of the Pacific Northwest.

After this trip I can say I know how to identify the differences between these evergreens. Similar but unique in there own ways. It is amazing what you notice once you start to tune in.

Although differentiating between trees within these broad families is still beyond me.

At the tip of the Pacific Northwest was the Olympic National Park.

With the splendour of the Hoh rainforest, luxuriously blanketed and draped with moss.

In some cases if was as if the trees had come to life and clothed themselves.

And some of the most rugged, beautiful coastlines we saw.

Heading back south we got to see all these changes again in reverse. Glimpsing the first signs of autumn turning back into summer.

The pristine waters of Crater lake.

Then snow capped peak of Mt Shasta.

Both part of the volcanic ring of fire, along with the alien, bubbling, sulphuric landscapes of the Lassen Volcanic National Park.

We drove for mile after mile through the devastation of the Dixie fire, surrounded by the charred skeletons of trees stretching into the distance.

Then there was the gorgeous Lake Tahoe. A seaside in the mountains.

Then the mountains and valleys of the Sierras.

Yosemite first. Disneyland of the Sierras.

Towering granite walls over which waterfalls tumble.

Refracting sunlight into their own rainbows.

And magical pools of water, mirroring the beauty of their surroundings.

After Yosemite came Sequoia and the rugged beauty of the High Sierras.

Where even a 10,000+ feet of elevation life finds a way.

Trees hug steep cliffsides.

And vibrant wildflowers sprinkle delightful colour over the landscape.

And of course there was the wildlife of the West Coast.

Graceful Pelicans, like swans of the Pacific.

The pod of common dolphin we saw while crossing over to the Channel Islands.

The circling hawks high above Carmel Valley. I don't have a pic, but they were beautiful to watch from our hillside perch.

The serene jellyfish of the Monterrey aquarium.

The playfully, loud sea lions of San Francisco's pier 39.

The cute banana slug, that answered our desires to see one by showing up on our picnic table after the previous evenings thunderstorms.

And the leaping coho salmon of the Sol Duc river. Crazy fish.

The blue jay. A pest, but a majestic one.

The cute little chipmonks.

The deer and the elk.

The oversized chicken with hairy feet and hilarious run of our Florence AirBnB.

Even the lumbering bear we spotted in the Sierra's. Thankfully out in the distance and docile enough. Kathy's jingly bell made sure of that.

These were a few of the delightful little encounters peppered throughout our journey.

Camping

Camping was a joy.

Cooking a simple, hearty fare on our little burner.

Or on occasion an open fire. If we could manage to get one started, which was usually a struggle.

The pleasure of just standing round staring into the flames as light faded and day transitioned into night.

The intimacy of being only a piece of canvas away from the outdoors and the open sky. Immersed in the natural world.

Sure we didn't always get the best sleep, but that was a small price to pay. Just don't mention the bears.

We refined the process of putting up and taking down our little orange home, as we migrated from campsite to campsite. Gradually improving our camping setup as we went - a washing up bowl was a major upgrade.

The campsites themselves were almost always well proportioned, with ample space, clean facilities, a picnic table and personal fire ring. They were also very commendably accommodating to those with disabilities.

Once we were caught in a thunderstorm. That was sad.

There were also a couple of shitters.

A few having no showers to speak of and one having only a hole in the ground for its shitter - I would avoid Toketee Lake campground.

Hiking

Hiking and camping went hand in hand. We went on some incredible hikes during our trip.

As well as a few short little piddlers of a mile or so that seem to be common across the West Coast. Great for those with disabilities or unaccustomed to walking, but not exactly satisfying for us.

It wasn't until the Redwood National Park we went on our first proper hike. A glorious loop through the freshly rain drenched woods.

Then in the Olympic National Park we tackled the gruelling ascent of Pyramid Peak. A substitute for Hurricane Ridge which was unfortunately closed due to wildfires.

This included navigating a treacherous landslide section. It looked worse in real life.

Not the best walk, but the views at the top and sense of accomplishment somewhat made up for it.

For our next big hike we summited Castle Crags. These bad boys.

This was a beautiful walk, with amazing views of My Shasta at the top. Very rewarding.

In Yosemite we did plenty of walking. Our biggest hike though was the mist trail, climbing up past a couple of waterfalls with a slight detour due to trail a closure along the John Muir way.

A great walk, that would have been even better without the detour. I mean just look at this birds eye view of the route. Breathtaking.

Our final hike of the trip was the lakes trail to Pear Lake in Sequoia National Park. This was a monster 20K+ hike at high altitude, that Kathy almost chickened out of. Too far she said, we would never make it she said.

We were encouraged after hearing Dr Cameron Hummels, the keynote speaker of the Dark Skies Festival which we stumbled across, had run the lakes trails and more before giving his talk. Nutter. And he still managed to give a fascinating talk about simulating the universe. Then we got to go look into the nights sky through a bunch of telescopes - I saw a blurry smudge that I was told was Andromeda. Kinda cool, but also slightly underwhelming.

Anyway, here is Kathy traversing a mountain pass on our walk.

And this is pear lake. Still with snow - crazy.

The Cities

San Franscico

A blessedly walkable city, with a functional, useful transportation system. Although it still took us an age to get to and from the 49ers match.

We got cultured at the Asian Art Museum, joining a fascinating guided tour of the exhibition Hell: Arts of Asian Underworlds.

Fairly dark and gruesome. I mean just look at the carnage going on in this scroll of judgement.

We played in the old arcade museum, with all sorts of weird and wonderful artifacts of the past. Including this odd, slightly racist depiction of an Opium Den.

We attended a funky day party at The Midway.

And wandered along the mural lined Clarion alley. They all made you think, I thought this one was rather poignant at the time.

Portland

Portland was awesome. We both loved it. Leafy green, if slightly singed after a prolonged heatwave. Super chill. Full of parks, breweries and great food.

We attended an epic open mic night called PSanctum, after overhearing a conversation at breakfast. Full of deep, thought provoking self-expression in the form of spoken word, poetry and song. For example, this. Very Portland. I wish I had read my Letter to the Earth, it would have fit in perfectly with the vibe.

I didn't get a picture of the place, but this was the restroom. You get the idea.

Portland also had the most incredible rose garden. Full of a multitude of different varieties, colours, shapes and smells. Puts Queen Mary's garden in London to shame.

Los Angeles

I thoroughly enjoyed the city of angels, much to my surprise. A vast, sprawling metropolis that has so much to offer if you know where to look. Just don't get caught aimlessly wandering, because you will end up wandering through a concrete desert. Uber is your friend.

Fortunately, I had been tuning into this city since March and managed to secure tickets to some cool gigs.

A highlight was the LA Philharmonic Orchestra performing Planets, an epic composition written between 1914 and 1917 that brings each of the planets to life through music. This was augmented with a truly mesmerising violin solo performing Philip Glass's Violin Concerto Number 1.

We also saw a play at the Pasadena Playhouse - the sound inside. Which was good, although I think I lacked the literary context to fully appreciate it. I believe it drew heavily on Crime and Punishment. Still very cultured of us.

Then we saw an exhibition of Kieth Haring's fascinatingly iconic style interwoven with subtle social commentary. Just check out this giant penis, commenting on societies obsession with money.

So yeah, LA was fab. I guess I am a big city kinda guy now. Big cities bring an endless multitude of possibilities, you just have to put a bit more effort in to find them.

San Diego

San Diego was the perfect end to our tour of the West Coast. Chill beach vibes.

Although a bit more sun would have been nice.

The States, its peoples

One has to get into the mindset of the people of the United States. Or at least attempt to.

I like to think we saw a decent cross section of the West Coast terrain and population.

From the staggering wealth on display at the Monterrey Car show. Lambo's and classics. McClarens and Ferraris. Many of them only driven at events like this. Some big dick energy on display for sure.

This contrasted with the homeless crisis and opioid epidemic of the big cities. Which is shocking and sad. Scary at times, as we discovered when stumbling through the Tenderloin district of San Fran. A place we had explicitly been told to avoid. Ooops.

We soaked in the atmosphere of a 49ers American Football match as well as the more relaxed, family friendly vibes of a Padres baseball game.

Spent time in LA, San Francisco, Portland and San Diego. As well as passing through numerous smaller towns, enjoying their cafes, diners, markets, thrift stores, breweries and dive bars.

The US is culturally vastly different from the UK. It is the land of the free for all those with a dollar to enjoy it. Where money talks, so you had better make sure you have some if you don't want your freedoms to be trampled on. It is the land of excess, where bigger is almost always better. Just look at the size of the trucks, or servings.

To be fair, I can appreciate this logic at times. I mean just check out this Santa Barbara bar's vast selection of mezcal and tequila. Like Olivanders Wand Shop for liquor. Heavenly.

We struggled to adapt to the attitude towards cars in the US. Whether you are going to drive is not a question, it is a given. To attempt to walk, is seen as frankly absurd in almost all instances. The design of its towns and cities reciprocates. Spaghetti like freeways snake across its cities, spitting you out never more than a few streets from where you need to be. You are never far from a parking spot, usually an excessively large space, but you can't be certain of a sidewalk.

Driving is made easy. So everyone drives. Everywhere. Trapped in a dependency, that puts an emphasis on individual freedom while structurally limiting the freedom to navigate an environment for all those without a private vehicle. The American Way.

Another layer of absurdity is added, when you learn that L.A.'s transport system was bought and subsequently dismantled by a group funded by those with vested interests in motor vehicles. A perfectly legal, and hence logical course of action for profit maximising corporations. Yay, Capitalism!

Another point to acknowledge, is the US is a historically strange country. Forged in the fires of empire, white settler-colonialism and slavery. It has a dark and chequered past, that is also the past of all white western Europeans. A past we would all rather forget. To do so, the US maintains a powerful story of itself that places, and justifies its place, at the top of the global geopolitical hierarchy.

Its co-opting of the name America for itself, is one example that is so deeply ingrained into western thought, into my thought, that we don't even register the strangeness of it. And as I have found out, struggle to avoid repeating this misnomer. The US being but one of many countries, nations and peoples throughout the Americas.

Just take a minute to contemplate what it must be like to grow up under the thrall of this story of national self-importance. Or conversely in its oppressive shadow.

How do we break free of the deep ruts of tradition and conformity with which our mind can so easily fall into? Channelling some Thoreau here, which I painstakingly struggled through during our trip.

Some may dismiss this as wokery, but I think it is important to attempt to comprehend these histories and narratives because they still very much shape the world we live in today.

We are all products of the past and the stories we tell ourselves about this past. It seems clear to me that many of the dominant narratives of today are defunct, abusive and in desperate need of re-evaluating. We need new imaginaries providing fresh meaning and alternative perspectives to our lives if we are to navigate the uncertain, and often frankly terrifying, future.

Anyway. I don't mean to paint the States as a monster. Just a product of its environment and histories whose understanding I have attempted to deepen during this trip. I look forward to continuing this exploration as I travel south of the border, to Mexico and then who knows.

I thoroughly enjoyed my time there, the people I met and the beauty of the natural world I travelled through.

I gradually warmed to the over the top enthusiasm of Americans, which the British in me initially treated with suspicion.

I loved the playful, often subversive creativity on display. I loved the relaxed vibe. I was fascinated by the juxtapositions of the place.

The Peg House highlights some of this. A pit stop we rolled into at the end of Highway 1 in Leggett, CA. Sun shining, towering Sunflowers in the garden, BBQ going with great veggie options and a country band playing the Good Old Mountain Dew song. Never Don't Stop!

Always a Pleasure

Well, if you made it this far I am impressed. Thanks for reading!

Joe and Erica, thank you for hosting us at the start of our trip.

And thanks to this lovely lady.

Kathy, thanks for everything. One of our best adventures yet and we have been lucky enough to have shared a few.

Keep smiling beautiful!

Onwards we go. I am not promising to write another one of these. Instead I would love to write another story. But we will see.

Have a good one!