You’re sitting on a ledge of slick rock in Arches National Park watching the sun go down on Delicate Arch.
It’s strange to think that earlier today I was saying goodbye to my friends at Princeton while now I’m sitting in a hotel in Nairobi.
So we leave today, and after starting off with a suitcase weighing 65 lbs, I’ve shaved off the weight to just under the checked bag limit. After much complaining, I said goodbye to the extra snacks I packed as well as some vitamins and fiber pills.
Tomorrow, I travel to Nairobi, Kenya via Amsterdam. Only 3 hours in Amsterdam so not really enough time to actually be in Amsterdam.
(This was originally written right after the European Court of Human Rights hearing on burqas and niqabs came out, July 1st.)
On my way to Ashley National Forest two Sundays ago, I stopped for gas and Gatorade at an Exxon on I-80. After I finished buying my supplies and using the restroom, I sat in my car with my windows rolled down (because no A/C), checking and replying to emails (because no internet access in the National Forest), and listening to Ira Glass’ “This American Life” on NPR (because it’s an awesome program).
I was aware of my surroundings enough to notice an older gentleman sit down at the picnic table that was set up directly in front of my car. And it was like he had a shark’s 6th sense of electricity, because when I put my phone down to hit the road again, he was up, moving towards my driver side window, waving.
I don’t really know why I signed up to help restore the Ute Mountain Fire Lookout Tower. When I signed up I was still planning on road tripping around the U.S. And since this is a volunteer position with HistoriCorps, I could have room and board for 4.5 days, decreasing the amount of time I’d be mooching off friends and family.
A few nights ago, I couldn’t sleep despite only getting four hours of sleep the night before and driving about four hours that day with no naps whatsoever.
Some people might say that’s insomnia, but I think I stayed awake because I started watching the Venus and Serena documentary and that story is just so captivating. But even after the documentary was over and the lights were off and my head was on the pillow, I couldn’t go to sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking.
I thought about a concept I had first conceived halfway through Senior year at Princeton. In the throes of existential crisis #237, I thought how grand it would be to have duplicates. You know, like clone myself into five or so identical copies.
From Chicago to Columbia, MO:
First things first (“I’m the realest”), I think it’s important to point out that this road trip has been made possible by my 2003 Lincoln Aviator (nicknamed Avie) who lacks, among other things, air conditioning.
APE AND TACO 