Mahowish as far West as possible on his Bonneville. He began in New York, worked in Yellowstone, and drove through the deserts all to see me and eat some Cotijas. 

These abandoned structures that dot the countryside are a testament to the days of 65¢ gas. Many times while driving I was lured off the road in hopes of gas only to find another shut down business in the empty landscape. These lonely buildings conjured up thoughts of the past and those who once fueled up here, those who didn’t have the comfort of SUNOCOs, Valeros, Cheverons and the multitude of fuel providers scattered along the roads today. How many saw these oddly shaped roof with their little pumps outside, how many felt relief as the needle dropped even further blow the E line? Shit, who am I kidding?! I already had a half tank…I was just trying to lighten the mental load of total cost of this trip. Seeing a sale of twenty dollars, twice as often, is much easier to bare than shelling out forty shortly thereafter . It gave me a reason to stop, stretch, smoke, chat up some locals and grab some slop.

“LA is the loneliest and most brutal of American cities; New York gets god-awful cold in the winter but there’s a feeling of wacky comradeship somewhere in some streets.” Jack Kerouac, On The Road. 

It is this notion of camaraderie and community that escaped me in California. We all sat in our cars, worked our jobs, went back to our houses, ate our take-out and minded our own fucking business. 

So. I’ve left San Diego for Brooklyn. Yeah, I know. Whatever. 

I just got back from a 10 day trip from California that lead me across this great nation once more. It sucks by yourself after the Rockies in the snow. Here is my little Civic that got me to and from California with minimal problems. I’m under the belief that less is more, if you cant fit it in/on a car you probably don’t need it. 

Fenbred right outside the Mallard Window. Xanterra spared no expense with our living situation. Only half the building was condemned and there were a hand full of rooms the mice hadn’t gotten too. The mold in the walls probably killed them before they got far. Thankfully one of the most beautiful places on earth was right outside our door and when we weren’t working, or stuck inside because of insane weather, we found ourselves out in the thick of it. 

http://soundcloud.com/fenbred

I highly recommend you follow this link to Ben’s soundcloud page and give his tunes a whirl. You can read an interview with Fenbred by English based Wonky Carton. Live drums, football and the city of no illusions. It’s pretty great to see someone giving this chap’s music a chance.

http://wonkycarton.tumblr.com/post/22791815208/live-drums-football-and-the-city-of-no-illusions

The employee parking lots was like a super sized bag of halloween candy. You could get a tootsie roll, some m&ms, an Oregon, some candy corn you’d never eat, a few Michigans and a couple burnt Arizonas.  

This is Telephone Point, a 15 to 20 drive depending on animal traffic and the only place within a reasonable distance to contact the outside world. Ben and I would make this drive every now and then to see if civilization still existed, no new terrorist attacks, no financial collapse and no zombie apocalypse. We were safe from all of that at the moment anyway but we had to return at some point.

As we would catch up with family and friends we had to describe the epic landscape that stood before us. It was impossible to give it justice and we’d often forget to include thermal features and bison that were all around us. Normal.  

Lodge poles! Everywhere you went in the park there were lodge pole pines standing tall or toppled over. There were even huge stretches that looked like burnt toothpicks, charred from the wildfires of 1988 that effected 36% of the park.  

Velero, AMPM, Sonoco, Hess, Shell, BP, Chevron, Mobil…whatever it is, they hold nothing to Flying J Truck Stops. Holy shit, everything you need from LED lights, to Wolf t-shirts, burritos, coffee, knives and even a shower if you’re lucky. After running on E for 30 min this place looks like an oasis in the desert. 

It’s like being stuck in a time warp with an infinite green and blue landscape that stretches to the horizon on either side of you. Flat for hours and hours until you cross another nameless river then, “wait! That must have been the Missouri, look at these fucking hills!” A little celebration then back at it for a tad longer until you enter the Cathedral like spires of Badlands and the tiny flat towns that surround it. 

We left the East Coast with the storms and middle America greeted us with the sun as we crossed the Mississippi. The Missouri was next, seven hours east with Interior and Badlands just a few hours past that. 

Mr Muuuuurty took us in for the night and showed us around the city the next day. Deep dish, records, buses, Calumet, and Columbia! 

At this point the bag we strapped to Ben’s car had caused major leakage/flooding all over ourselves and our possessions. We had cups set up to catch water as if a pipe broke in the kitchen and we were waiting for the plumber. 

We encountered a wild storm that was headed towards our past, an omen perhaps? I never really made that connection until now. Spirits were high, gas prices were dropping and it really felt like we were doing something. 

I had a couple rolls of Kodak EliteChrome developed recently and wham! there I was again driving out to Yellowstone with Ben. Through the rain to Chicago then across the vast flat lands of Iowa and South Dakota where I wasted about a dozen frames on the endless green fields and massive skies. We finally arrive at the park and begin our short stint in the ‘wilderness’ full of parking lots, meal plans, twisting roads, lodge pole pines, and dorm life.