It has been three months since Kristy and I made a drive from North Carolina to Arizona, by way of Kansas (worst state ever made) and Colorado (one of the best states ever made). The trip took a week. It could have taken a month and I would have been just as happy. There is something about the open road that feeds my soul. And, being on the road with a travel partner as great as Kristy is kind of unbeatable.

The trip looked like this:

• Day One: Greensboro NC to Paducah KY (594 miles)
• Day Two: Paducah KY to Tonganoxie KS (451 miles)
• Day Three: Explore nearby Lawrence KS
• Day Four: Tonganoxie KS to Louisville CO (590 miles)
• Day Five & Six: Spend not nearly enough time visiting my bff, Jonah, and his amazing family in Lousiville
• Day Seven: Louisville CO to Williams AZ (697 miles)

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Whenever I’m on the road I eat breakfast at a Cracker Barrel (you know, the one with the old country store). Doesn’t matter where I’m heading, there is guaranteed to be one along the way. I know I can order the same thing at any one of them and it is going to taste the same way. It’s all about consistency, right? And, as always, my Smokehouse Sampler tastes just as it should. Kristy says her breakfast is one of the worst she’s ever eaten. I say she’s just being picky.

Some Cracker Barrels sell Cheerwine in a glass bottle in their country store. Those are the ones that get my patronage more than once. If you’re not familiar with Cheerwine in a glass bottle, you just don’t know what is good and right in this world. Paducah, KY, doesn’t boast a Cracker Barrel with Cheerwine in a glass bottle. I probably won’t be returning here.

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Old barns, sunsets, and a giant arch.

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A collective of creatives converged in Tonganoxie for a single night. Honestly, between Carl, Amy, Josh, Kelley, Sara, Kristy, and myself, we could have probably taken over the world if we tried.

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Spending a day exploring the town of Lawrence, KS, with Kristy’s two bffs, Kelley and Sara, is a perfect way to delay the inevitable drive across Kansas. Kelley and Sara are both excellent photographers. Go check out their work and then come back to see me.

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Kansas.

Don’t even get me started. I lost my mind there once.

Thankfully, Kristy and I have the most amazing game every invented, 20Q, to help pass the time and the miles.

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Colorado.

It is either my second or third home. I can’t remember which. (North Carolina will always have my heart).

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The sun sets near the Four Corners part of the country, just before crossing the border from Colorado into Arizona. That’s not actually where the sun sets, but that is where we are when we watch it set. Know what I’m saying?

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And, when the sun is finally gone, we continue driving into the night.

The open road.

The wind takes you.

PS- this is the first blog post on my newly improved website. Take a look around and let me know what you think! -wac

Last week Kristy and I took a Sunday drive. Like old people. Or, rather, like adventurers.

From Williams to Flagstaff it is 35 miles on I-40. But, if you go the super secret back way it is a little longer. It’s not really a super secret, but it is longer. And, it is pretty awesome.

Head north on Highway 64 like you’re heading toward the Grand Canyon and then hang a right on Highway 180. Follow that all the way into downtown Flagstaff. Seriously, go do it and then come back and thank me later. The views of Mount Humphreys and the San Francisco Peaks are fantastic the entire way. I apologized to Kristy more than once for pulling over so many times to take photos…

Expansive and grand views, desert, pines, snow, aspens, mountains, and an elevation of over 8,000 feet- I couldn’t not pull over to take photos. Here are a few.

I was looking through some images over the weekend and came across this little gem. I haven’t seen it in a few years and even forgot that I had it.

It is funny how an image can conjure so many memories so quickly.

I shot this in a canyon in Old Mexico on the morning of July 4, 2004. Shoeless Jon, Jim Triple, and I had driven from Asheville, NC, to El Potrero Chico in Nuevo Leon, Mexico. (I like to call it Old Mexico so as to not get the two Mexicos confused). Jon was getting married in a few months so Jim and I decided the three of us needed one last grand adventure together.

We’d been on quite a few adventures in our day, but this was the big one. This would be the final chapter in a Trilogy** of adventures that began a few years before with a trip to Kentucky for a concert that almost turned into a trip to Canada, followed by an actual trip to Canada, and now this- NC to Old Mexico and back, in 54 hours. 3,000 miles round trip.

We drove down on July 4th weekend to do some rock climbing, leaving Asheville at 6:30 on Friday night. Sunrise on Saturday found us driving through TexArkana and by lunch we were in Austin eating with friends.

A few hours later and we were crossing the border at Laredo, Texas.

As we pull up to the border crossing Jim says to the guard, “Um, I think I might be in the wrong line right now.”

“Oh, no my friend. All lines lead to Mexico,” he replies.

And, it was true. All lines did lead to Mexico. To Old Mexico. That statement from the Border Guard more or less set the tone for the entire time we were south of the border. From that moment on it was one hijink after another. And, when I say “the entire time we were south of the border,” I mean the entire 18 hours we were down there.

That’s right. We drove 24 hours to spend 18 hours in Old Mexico just so we could turn around and drive 24 more hours back to North Carolina.

It was all about the adventure for us. And it was grand.

The funny part is, we didn’t even do any rock climbing.

After camping at a campground at the mouth of the canyon on Saturday night, we headed into the canyon to scout things out. We hiked around a little bit and all realized that we were too hot and too tired to rope up. This is a place that boasts world class rock climbing. One website describes the canyon like this, “El Potrero Chico features a paradise full of world class multi-pitch sport climbing ranging from 5.7 to 5.13d.  Dozens of 2000+ feet long routes are available.  Potrero Chico includes dozens of intermediate grade (5.10d and less) routes over a thousand feet long with unique summits.  Well over five hundred routes have been developed in this area.”

Yep. Over 500 routes and we didn’t even lace up. And, we didn’t even care.

After a short hike and a few photographs we decided it was time to hit the road and make our way back to the border, three hours to the north. Along the way Jim decided we should get some gas (we didn’t need gas, but that’s not the point I guess). What should have been an easy five minute pit stop turned into a 45 minute comedy of errors when we found ourselves inside a 7-eleven on a deserted highway trying to have a conversation with the-most-ridiculously-cute-Mexican-girl-I-have-ever-seen-who-I-wanted-to-marry-right-then-and-there trying to pay for our gas and realizing that she didn’t speak a word of English and the three of us might have known 20 words of Spanish combined. Don’t tell Jon this, though, because he tried his hardest to carry on a conversation with her.

It went like this:

Jon says something. She looks at us and laughs. She says something. We look at her and laugh. Laughter is, after all, the international language, right? Or, is that kissing? I can’t remember. But, laughter is great. Just ask the two old men who were watching the whole thing unfold and laughing at us the entire time. The only bad part about laughter is that it won’t pay for your gas in a 7-eleven on a deserted highway in old Mexico. Neither will a credit card. Or, a twenty dollar bill. We know because we tried all three.

The problem was that when Jim told the gas station attendant to fill it up he didn’t really know what he was saying. And, he didn’t understand the exchange rate. And, he didn’t know how many pesos we had. And, he didn’t know how to make change for a twenty dollar bill when he finally did realize what he was trying to say and finally did realize the exchange rate and finally did realize how many pesos we had.

“Exchangé para un dollorés por favor,” Jim finally says to the attendant after he has pumped more gas than we have pesos to pay for it with. Yes. Please look up the word Exchangé in a Spanish-English dictionary. Or a French-English dictionary. Or any dictionary for that matter. The key here is to note the accent over the E. It is then that you will realize that Jim likes to make up words when speaking to gas station attendants at a 7-eleven on a deserted highway in Old Mexico. The attendant gives a puzzled look and just points inside…

So, finally after 45 minutes of Jon “having a conversation” with the-most-ridiculously-cute-Mexican-girl-I-have-ever-seen-who-I-wanted-to-marry-right-then-and-there in the 7-eleven on a deserted highway in Old Mexico, we learn a few things:

• A) We can’t use a credit card to pay for our gas.
• 2) We are 15 pesos short of being able to pay for our gas.
• 3) We can’t pay for our gas with our 20 dollars American.
• 4) And, this is the kicker, this is where it gets interesting- This 7-eleven convenience store that we are standing in right now and those gas pumps outside where we filled up our tank for which we are now trying to pay for….. The aren’t even associated with each other!

Yes. You read that right. We have just spent 45 minutes trying to pay for gasoline in a store that has pumps outside in front of it which actually have nothing to do with the store we are standing in.

I know. It doesn’t make sense. What does make sense, though, is what the girl behind the counter says next. She turns towards me and Jim and says something along the lines of, “¿Me pueden ayudar? Porque él no está ayudando en absoluto.” Neither of us know Spanish (I only really know one line which I won’t repeat here because it would make my mother blush) but we both somehow understand exactly what she is saying.

“Can you help me? Because he is not helping at all.”

Jim and I turn towards her, point to Jon and say in perfect unison, “Actually, you’re working with the best we’ve got.”

Even though she speaks no English, the girl behind the counter understands exactly what we are telling her.

And, we all get a laugh out of this. Especially the two old men who have stuck it out just for the sake of entertainment.

Jon and the-most-ridiculously-cute-Mexican-girl-I-have-ever-seen-who-I-wanted-to-marry-right-then-and-there carry on for a few more minutes before it finally hits me. What she has been trying to tell us all along is this: It is true that we can’t use a credit card to pay for our gas. Just like it is true that we can’t use a 20 dollar bill to pay for our gas. Just like it is true that we can’t actually pay for our gas in this store. And it is because of the fundamental rule of convenience stores everywhere.

She can’t open the cash register unless we buy something. Anything. Anything at all.

And, so we do. We purchase a candy bar and she opens the register and we pay with our 20 dollar bill and she gives our change in pesos and we thank her and thank her and bid her farewell and we all laugh one last time and as we walk outside to finally pay the gas attendant for our fuel I turn and give the-most-ridiculously-cute-Mexican-girl-I-have-ever-seen-who-I-wanted-to-marry-right-then-and-there a wave and I leave a little bit of my heart behind on that counter inside the 7-eleven on the deserted highway in Old Mexico.

Just like that we are on the road and in no time we are back at the US/Old Mexico border and as we pull up the Border Guard asks where we are coming from and how long we have been there and when he hears that we were only in Old Mexico for 18 hours after driving from North Carolina he tells us to pull the car over. A search of the car is followed by at least 74 questions, the best of which is, “Do you have an Iguanas with you?” The funny thing is, this isn’t the first time I have heard this question when entering the United States. My buddy Ben-it was asked those exact words when we returned from a trip to the Dominican Republic.

After assuring the Border Guard that we were, in fact, not carrying Iguanas he sent us on our way. Dinner in Dallas with Jim’s brother and we were back on the open road. Since it was the 4th of July we were lucky enough to see at least 20 fireworks shows as we left the lights of Dallas behind and headed into the night.

Fifty-four hours after leaving the Brown House in Asheville, NC, we were back where we started. A grand adventure indeed.

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They say a photograph is worth a thousand words. I guess they are right. Finding this photograph over the weekend brought back the memories of this story, which by my count is a little over a thousand words…

**If you ever see me on the street and have time for a cup of coffee and want to hear the entire story of the Trilogy of adventures that started with a concert in Kentucky and ended with this tale, don’t hesitate to stop and say hello. The Trilogy to which this story belongs is a wonderful and beautiful and adventureful thing.