Across The United States In Five Days

Monday 25th August, 11am

We made it to the Biggest Little City in the World. In 5 days, across the U.S. in 2800 miles (click here for the route map). That was some drive. 3 points of note: one, stopped in Chicago and met some nice people; two, picked up some hitchhikers; three, Salt Lake City. On a more general note, sleeping in the back of the Jeep with the seats down just about enables me to stretch out fully, diagonally across. My girlfriend is luckily several inches shorter so fits in beside snugly. Also, the back windows are blacked out adding some degree of privacy, which is nice in a truck rest stop.

So we left Trumansberg last Wednesday, stopping to buy a wheel nut that was missing. The first couple of days were fairly slow going, making it to Lake Erie on Wednesday night. Thursday evening we were passing Chicago and I couldn't resist working hard to convince my girlfriend to take a stop for a beer.

What's been great about this trip so far is how many song lyrics begin to fall into place and make sense on discovering their roots. Bombin' the L by the Fun Lovin' Criminals of course refers to the eLevated train that circuits downtown Chicago and the graffiti artists that frequent it. I found this out from a friendly couple we met just before we gave up looking for a bar at a random stop off the L. They were sitting outside this university building drinking wine out of plastic glasses. The lightbulb flashed above my head and we tracked the free bar down immediately. Our friends were also crashing this uni schmooze event and we hit it off. They later took us to a club on Clark St called Metro, for a dubstep night. Maybe it was just the DJ, but it seems like the style is much lighter, funkier, than dubstep at home. The same is true of the techno we've seen/heard so far.

Seeing our new friends insobriety coupled with the knowledge they were driving home was a chilling thought. I took stock of my 2 drinks over 3 hours and felt comfortable with this, but I can't help noticing that EVERYONE drinks and drives here. Everyone. I guess that having the infrastructure and road system of towns, cities and states built around the car makes alternative forms of transport lurk in the shadows. The primacy of the individual, freedom and choice is fairly axiomatic with the independence of the automobile. And when you're the driver, and drinking and driving is socially acceptable, walking really is a tough option to take. I guess that it comes back to one of my favourite chestnuts, normativity. Back at home, when cycling was the norm for me (I cycled everywhere), I would balk at those that offered me rides for short distances. But now, driving around everywhere, to walk anywhere just seems counterintuitive. I suppose this is why I want to try to show, even just for myself, that flying is not a norm that I want to be a part of my life and so to eliminate it altogether to prevent its creeping frequency becoming normalised and therefore legitimized.

Back on the road again that next day, we drove past a couple of guys walking along the Freeway (which I believe is illegal in Iowa). By the time I thought to pick them up, we were half a mile down the road. My conscience itched, and I got to scratch it only half an hour later in the next town. As we stopped to pick up some more bits and pieces, we saw them in the car park. They saw our New York plates and came over and asked for a ride to California. Well, we took them to the border, over 4 states and about 1600 miles.


Monty and Abel had been riding freight trains, got caught 6 miles before when we saw them on the road, then got picked up by State Troopers and taken to the next town. Monty's best tip was that to orientate yourself with a stationary train, the red lights indicate the back end of the train, that won't be coupled with before leaving. That way you can be sure to go in the right direction.


By Saturday, having crossed Nebraska (flat and boring - except for a majestic footbridge over the road) and Wyoming (beautiful mountains on the border in and out) in a day, we reached Salt Lake City. This heavily industrial city reeks of chemicals, and we passed through it fairly rapidly in order to 'camp' beside the lake just outside the city. After convincing our hitchhiker friends that we weren't going to strand them, they hunkered down in the sand as we tried to make ourselves comfortable in the Jeep.


The excitement grew as we crossed the Nevada border on Sunday morning, and blazed across to Reno. We arrived by dusk, having stocked up on rum, tequila and gin, and parted company with our hitchers. I feel dreadful that we missed our rendezvous with them afterwards - I must've forgotten to wind my pocketwatch as it was running half an hour slow making us late for our meeting under the big scary clown at 11. Monty, Abel if you read this, sorry guys, we were there, just a bit late!


So having checked in and out of the big posh hotel whose windows won't open, we got comfortable in a motel on the main drag. Very comfortable. There's nothing quite better after 5 days of driving than a bed that does Swedish massage for a quarter for 5 minutes. 5 minutes that seem like the longest, sweetest minutes. After getting up, I can't testify to the physical benefits of such massage, but its soothingness that induced a semi-meditative state relaxed me to a state that I felt comfortable in.

And while I'm on the "semi-" lingo, I apologise. For the anglophile reader, you must of course pronounce this sem-eye. One thing I really don't get - what is a semi-truck? Surely it's either a truck, or it's not. A semi-truck? Oh, I give up.

The Road Is In Sight!

Monday 18th August, 7pm

After a turbulent few days of carhunting, a few breathless moments here and there and a lovely time catching up with old friends, we're nearly ready to leave Trumansburg in upstate New York in our '99 black Jeep Grand Cherokee.

Arriving by bus (click the link to see a route map), we were met at the bus station in Ithaca by a friend of mine from Amsterdam, where we were both born. It's amazing to see someone about 20 years after you last saw them, when that was when you were both knee high to grasshoppers, and sink a few beers together. It was also great to get out of the city and its nitty gritty.

taffy throwing at the local fayre (just after the demolition derby!)

We have ended up staying here a little longer than hoped, leaving less time to cross the States than I would have liked, given that I'm the only one driving. This is our sixth night here, and I'm also a bit apprehensive of outstaying our welcome, particularly as for the last four mornings we've said to our gracious host and friend's housemates that this really would be the last day - which wears a little thin after the third time.

So, after careful inspection of the New York State ID requirements list for the registration of vehicles, it appeared that a NYS Certificate of Title counts as 6 points. Basing our hopes on this, we began all over again looking for vehicles in the Ithaca area. Thankfully my friend lent me his pickup for the 2 days we scoured the area, without which we would really have been up the creek.

We got to a shortlist of 5 options - as long as would we would be able to register it. This was still a major hangup as it then appeared that the title I just mentioned needed to have my details printed on it, not only having bought a car in NYS and having the title signed over. Some saving grace came from the very kind propietor of a car dealership. Tony, having thrown a number of rather large concerts at his house, knows quite a few people in the area and took it upon himself to try to figure out what we could do to get registered.

The next red herring was to get a non-driver ID. So, off we trekked to the Sheriff's Office with the insurance papers as proof of address, which had by now arrived since I'd got insured for the Ranger pickup in New Jersey to my address here. Upon returning to Tony the next day, ID in hand, he informed us it wasn't going to do, as I needed State ID, not just County (the latter of which the Sheriff is responsible for).

Well, needless to say, we did manage to get the car registered. But only through a stroke of fortune, thanks to a nepotist link of Tony's. I *legally* got my ID signed off, and got the plates within minutes. Phew. But, the moral of this story is that AS A FOREIGNER, WITHOUT SOMETHING LINKING YOU OFFICIALLY TO NEW YORK STATE (or a friend with good contacts), YOU CANNOT GET A CAR REGISTERED HERE. Check this list out for items that you need.

So, as proud owners of our first car, we paid $5000 for a big black shiny gasguzzling beast. It's a 4x4. But this is what I campaigned against at home. The title of my blog refers to how I'm trying not to fly in order to minimize my carbon footprint. Am I now the biggest hypocrite walking the earth? Do I have any moral integrity remaining? Will I be able to sleep tonight, before setting off across the United States of America in hot pursuit of the American Dream?

Of course I can sleep at night. I have a car and it goes vroom. Well, it's only a 6 cylinder so it's not quite like those V8 monsters. And it does 20 miles per gallon. Which is better than 10. But not quite 30.

There's a whole load of stats and debates out there about flying vs driving, mpgs, and carbon use. I'm going to give my take on it, and welcome comments. I think that one person driving in a car is a bad and inefficient use of carbon. Four in a car is good. Hence, 2 in a car is borderline (which there is in our case). Second, it is easy to compare car mpg against plane mpg per passenger (assuming an average loading of the plane) - but this doesn't take into account how damaging the emissions are at the elevation at which they are released. At 30,000ft they do a LOT more damage. Third, I fight what battles I can by focussing on those that are winnable. I believe the aviation industry is unsustainable and consumer demand can stop the growth projections that fuel demand for more and bigger airports. I believe the net effect of standing up and loudly and proudly refusing to fly is a positive one with the potential to generate waves of reaction as other consider their own willingness to fly. Who knows. But for me, the sky is over the limit.

2 Great American Institutions: Pizza and Cars

Tuesday 12th August

In NYC I'm trying my hardest to avoid cliched tourist experiences. So no trip up the Statue of Liberty, no Empire State Building and certainly no WTC site visit. A couple have slipped through the net though, allowed to do so as they're enjoyed by locals alike. The first was yesterday, when we took a trip to Coney Island to check out the beach. Although Coney Island is not surrounded by water as such, it has a long South facing sandy beach. We were glad for the hazy sunshine, but it never quite got sticky enough to need to go for a swim. We couldn't pass up a ride on the Cyclone, a wooden rickety rollercoaster that gives a great view over the bay before plunging into a series of, even for my age, fairly stomach-churning turns.

The second was yesterday, on a food tip. After walking from Union Square to the Brooklyn Bridge to get the water taxi, we discovered that it had stopped service for the night. So, walking 6 blocks back in, in order to get onto the bridge, we crossed the Hudson on foot over the Brooklyn Bridge, as dusk had set in, affording lush views behind us over Manhattan, to the right out of the Hudson Bay and in front over Brooklyn. So having walked solidly for what seemed like 6 hours (okay maybe 3 with breaks), finding a 60 metre queue outside Grimaldis, at 9.15pm on a Monday, we were beginning to doubt the wisdom of our choice of dining experience.

view under the Brooklyn Bridge Southwards

In New York, as I am told by our more-than-gracious Brooklyn-based hosts, the best way to choose your dining venue is to imagine what experience you want. Obviously, good nosh is paramount, but to refine your options down you need to think about what kind of experience you want to go with your pizza. Although queueing for an hour didn't factor highly into the experience I wanted, Grimaldis have been turning out great pizzas for over 100 years. And at under £15 for a flaggon of wine and a 96 inch pizza (easily enough for 2 very hungry walkers - that's actually a litre and 18" for the litiguous amongst you), I felt compelled to try my hardest to convince my very hungry and grumpy girlfriend to stand patiently more than a stone's throw from the entrance. I did it by going of to find somewhere else to eat, and taking a very long time over it...

Was it worth it? Hell yeah! I so nearly bought their T-shirt until my more pragmatic girlfriend vetoed the idea.

If you happen be in New York City, with someone whose company you enjoy enough not to need alcohol to share a meal with, I'd recommend where we ate on Saturday night, for those interested in a less patience-wearing experience (even I'm talking the lingo now, I mean meal). The Bedouin Tent on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn does lush Lebanese food, with a nice back garden to eat in. Again the right side of £15 for 2, and highly recommended.

Wednesday 13th August 2008
6pm

What a ballache this is proving to be. From the various sites I'd read, I'd imagined buying a car in the US to be a lot less hassle than this.

I checked it out - a UK driving license entitles you to drive in most States (but check each one out - I know Florida doesn't) for up to 12 months before you have to get a local one. Insurance I thought would be the hardest with only 18 months of driving experience - in addition to being a foreigner - but a call to GMAC showed that I could quite easily be insured. I read on a forum there was only one underwriter that would insure foreigners - and they demand 2 years experience - I forget who they are but this is bullshit, probably courtesy of their PR department. Part 3 is registration...

So for those reading this thinking of doing the same, here's the process. You find the vehicle you want. You get insured on it, doable over the phone. You get the insurance company to fax you the insurance card you need in order to register. Then, you go to a Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) office (also known by other names in other states of the US), with the title signed over to you and/or a Bill of Sale, the insurance card AND SUITABLE PROOF OF ID.

This is the chestnut that we failed to pick up on until we'd gone over to New Jersey 3 times. On Saturday, we went over to check out a pickup truck at a dealer. It looked great at a good price. I wanted a mechanic to give us a second opinion, as without my dad at my shoulder, I didn't feel grown up enough to make an educated judgement. Garages close at weekends, so on Monday morning I went back, another 40 minutes on the New Jersey Transit. Stopping in at the first garage, I spoke to the mechanic. He didn't know the dealer personally (hence more likelihood of an objective judgement), and happened to drive himself a Ford Ranger, the model I was after. Further, he seemed Latin American so I spoke in Spanish to him, explained our plans, and we chatted for a while. He came and had a look at it, and plugging his computer in saw that one cylinder was mis-firing.

But on the way he told me about a friend of his that had a better one, again the same model. So on Tuesday, we went again, another 40 minutes, to have a look at this one. It seemed perfect, so he signed the title over and I gave him the cash. I called the insurance company and got it insured, then got the train back to New York City.

Since 9-11, New York State has increased the stringency of its ID requirements. Without a New York State driving license, a foreign passport and a credit card is only 4 out of 6 ID points. This, I discovered this morning at the DMV office in Brooklyn. My girlfriend has just come back from New Jersey, thankfully with the money back (minus $100 for the day he took off work and to get a replacement title). She says he seemed kind of glad in a way to not be parting with it, and genuinely sorry for us. We're getting on a bus to upstate NY in half an hour.