Coastline To The City

One restless traveler's photographic exploration of the USA

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Days 47-49: New Mexico, Texas, Oklahoma

“Oh, Albuquerque I've been flying down the road And I've been starving to be alone And independent from the scene that I've known”

I couldn’t help but have this song in my head (and through my speakers) as I drove through New Mexico.

After Petrified Forest National Park, I did very little further sightseeing. I was just trying to get to Arkansas to see my family. I was ready for some family time, and there wasn’t a whole lot to stop for on I-40 between Arizona and Arkansas.

Well, New Mexico ain’t bad, lord, the people there they treat you fine. I was impressed with New Mexico. It was beautiful from west to east, and there were plenty of landscapes that would have been difficult to capture on camera. I found a great cheap motel in Albuquerque. How many cheap motels have an indoor pool? I don’t know, but this one did. I also saw the sad sight of several exits of I-40 westbound blocked off due to an unbelievably tragic road rage incident. Apparently it had happened only about an hour before I got there.

My next stop was Amarillo, in the Texas Panhandle. I’ve been to Austin a few times, and have traveled out to the hill country and Luckenbach, but I had never been to the panhandle. It was flat and windswept, like all of the great plains. But it was charming in the way that Texas always is. About the only thing I did in Amarillo was stop at the famous Cadillac Ranch, a line of old Cadillac sedans stuck nose-deep in the dirt in an open field along a frontage road. I don’t think of Texas Panhandle when I think of public art, but here I was. At the Cadillac Ranch I got a more genuine Texas experience than I was expecting, because the field was so muddy that it was like walking in quicksand. With every step, another layer of mud stuck to the one before it, so by the time I got back to my car, my legs looked like toothpicks with two black olives skewered to the bottom. Later, I stayed at a super sketchy motel and I forgot to lock my car overnight, but I guess that famous Texas hospitality extends to not burglarizing the vehicles of wide-eyed tourists.

I don’t have much to say about Oklahoma. I didn’t even really see it because it was raining so hard that I barely saw the taillights in front of me, let alone any landscape. After about six hours of driving through those conditions and passing accident after accident, I had enough and checked into a much higher class of hotel than the previous night. I was in Shawnee, Oklahoma, which is unremarkable except as the birthplace of mega hunk Brad Pitt. My sightseeing was over, my nerve for driving in terrible weather was worn thin, and technically this was the last night of my trip, so I was happy to be in a big clean hotel room out of the rain and mud. All that was left for me was a week visiting my family in Arkansas, and then it would be back to Florida.

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Days 44-46: Arizona

After a bittersweet goodbye to California, I was pointed east again. I recognize a denouement when I see one, but I knew I had a few more days of adventure ahead. I ended up in Valle, Arizona, which is very close to the Grand Canyon. As soon as I got to the Grand Canyon, it started pouring. But I couldn’t complain. The weather had been as perfect as I could have wanted for 45 days straight. The Grand Canyon was beautiful, though it did not grab me as it has so many others. Maybe I was burned out on grandeur, which I acknowledge is an excellent problem to have. Maybe it is as Steinbeck said: my journey started long before I left, and was over before I returned. Both are true to some degree. Still, I got to watch a storm roll in right up the canyon, which was one of the most unusual meteorological phenomena I’ve ever seen, and I got decent photos.

The better photos, and better views, came from the side of the southwestern roads. I traveled east more or less parallel to old Route 66, and it has no shortage of novel, bizarre, and beautiful sights. Ironwood desert meets dramatic sandstone plateaus meets derelict Americana. Everywhere I looked there was an abandoned motel, a faded and chipping mural, or line upon line of rusted fifties sedans. At first it was exciting since the southwest’s arid landscape is as close to the “opposite” of my home as I had seen in my travels. I am a lover of the desert and a lover of rockabilly-era car culture, but there was something sad about the entire route being so plainly past its prime. There is beauty in breakdown, but after hundreds of miles, the faded beauty faded further and all I saw was a series of gutted small towns. Despite this, if a foreigner asked me where to travel for the most authentic American experience, the answer is still Route 66. The destination is the same. It is the American experience that has changed.

I stayed next in Holbrook, Arizona. After checking into my motel, I wandered the streets aimlessly for a while. I don’t know what I was looking for, but I didn’t find it. I did find a street called BUCKET OF BLOOD STREET, though. That was pretty cool.

The next day I visited Petrified Forest National Park and the Painted Desert. Like everything in the southwest, it was a little run down. Maybe that’s just what happens when the wind is made of sandpaper. I loved the park anyway. Petrified wood has always fascinated me and it was everywhere. Apparently the petrified forest originated in the southern hemisphere before the continents separated. It was fascinating to see and touch Pangean relics. Another storm brewed so I got back in the car and kept traveling.

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Days 25-43: California

This has been a long stretch without an update but I have been very busy. I spent one night in Salt Lake City then barreled southwest through the rest of Utah, stopping for another night in St. George. I was headed to San Diego to spend the weekend with one of my long lost friends I never get to see, Alejandra. She and her boyfriend Lorenzo live in a great house in the middle of San Diego and we spent the weekend doing all the city stuff like restaurants, breweries, outdoor fairs, and a new one for me: tea testing. I was glad my senses were in top form in San Diego because I definitely gave them a workout.

Next I headed to Los Angeles where I stayed with my college buddy Robbie in Culver City. There were some German skateboarders staying in his house and we all went out the first night, but I couldn’t keep up with them. They were probably all about 22-24. Much to my chagrin, they partied until dawn every night and I didn’t have a room with a closed door. But that’s all part of the traveler’s experience, right?

The next night I took a side trip out to Joshua Tree to see Daniel Romano & The Trilliums (again) at Pappy and Harriet’s desert bar. They remembered me from North Carolina and both the show and venue were excellent. I wished I could have stayed longer out there but I had to drive back to LA. A late night drive from the desert to LA while listening to Queens Of The Stone Age’s Songs For The Deaf is nothing I can complain about anyway.

A trip to In-N-Out and a couple stops at amazing LA guitar shops later, I was on my way to San Francisco. It was Fleet Week up there and the Blue Angels were out flying all over the city. As if the spectacle that is San Francisco needed any enhancement. I stayed with my long time high school friend Cady and her husband Mark, and they have an amazing apartment that was comfortable and quiet after the German skaters. We went to the Marin Headlands and Point Bonita Lighthouse for some amazing views, then to the Sutro Baths. The next day we wandered around the Embarcadero, catching glimpses of the Blue Angels everywhere, then climbed 443 steps to Coit Tower. Afterwards, we walked through parts of Chinatown and North Beach to have drinks at Top Of The Mark, which 19 floors up and offers amazing views of the city. Then we went across the street for drinks at the Tonga room, a tiki bar in a basement that is straight out of, I dunno, 1959. It reminded me of the Polynesian resort at Disney World, but it was much better.

After San Francisco I headed down to camp for two nights at Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park, in the famous Big Sur region of California’s central coast. Big Sur is still my favorite place I’ve ever been. There’s nothing I can say about it that hasn’t been said much better by writers like Henry Miller and Jack Kerouac, so I’ll let the photos speak for themselves.

Now I am in LA with friends Lauren and Ben. I am stopping back by San Diego to pick up my boots that I left there before I start back east.

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Days 22-24: Yellowstone and Grand Teton National Park

I left Glacier with the feeling of satisfaction you get when you successfully step outside of your comfort zone. I was also excited to see some friends of mine that night in Yellowstone. I knew there was a long drive first, but driving back through the Montana countryside was a pleasure. I stopped in Helena for lunch, supplies, and an oil change (since this drive marked 5000 miles on this trip so far) and then was back on the road.

I met my friend Sarah in Gardiner, MT, which is the town nearest to the north entrance of Yellowstone. Sarah and her boyfriend Austin both work as researchers in Yellowstone and they live within the actual park. Sarah and I caught up over elk burgers and local beer and then went into the park to the house.

Yellowstone is beautiful but it was an especially rare privilege that I got to stay in a house inside the park. One night we all stood on the front porch in our socks watching an elk mating ritual not thirty feet away in the front yard. I knew Yellowstone would be beautiful scenery, but I was not expecting the wildlife activity.

The second morning Sarah and her friend Becca and I hiked to the top of one of the highest peaks (after driving a good bit of the way) in Yellowstone: Mt. Washburn. Then Sarah spent the day giving me a personal tour of her favorite parts of the park. That night we all had dinner, local beer, and huckleberry ice cream. Sometimes it can be nice to fall asleep to the sounds of nature, but I learned that elk in rut do not qualify for that.

The next morning I had to carry on since I was trying to make California by the weekend, but I took the scenic route out of Yellowstone through Grand Teton National Park where I saw mountains every bit as dramatic as those in Glacier, and alongside horses and bison to boot.

The rest of Wyoming was desolate and lonely. Austin and Sarah told me Wyoming has the lowest population density in the lower 48 and after driving through it for eight hours in one day, it made me feel a little uneasy. I made it to the relative grandeur of Salt Lake City that night and got a hotel by the airport, and it had a very high population density so I felt balanced out.

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Days 18-21: Glacier National Park

I planned this road trip around getting to Glacier. Glacier National Park is something I’ve wanted to see in person ever since I learned about it, and it is a long way from Florida, both geographically and symbolically. I’m still not sure where my wanderlust comes from, but obviously it overwhelmed me enough to follow through with these travels, come hell or high water.

Another long day’s drive (I passed the 4000-mile mark of my trip somewhere on day 18) and I was at the entrance to the Many Glacier part of GNP, in the northeastern area of the park. It was one of the only campgrounds still open for the season. Most of the park had already begun shutting down for winter.

The weather, however, was unseasonably warm. I had been hurrying to get to Montana before the snowfall, but when I arrived I actually started digging through the duffel bag for my shorts. That afternoon the temperature was in the mid-80s.

My campsite:

Not long after I made my camp, a guy about my age pulled into the empty site next to mine. After he set his tent up, he walked over to introduce himself. “It’s always good to know your camp neighbors,” he said. I agreed. He was there by himself too and we discovered that we had a lot in common so we drank some whiskey and beers that night and decided to go out on a hike together the next day.

The hike was from the camp area out to Grinnell Glacier, twelve miles round trip. The first six miles were all uphill and I was hurting, but my new buddy Jay encouraged me and I encouraged him right back (though he was definitely a more experienced hiker than me). The end of the hike placed us at a high glacier and on the bank of a glacial lake. I never thought I would be basking on a glacier. None of it felt real, but it was.

That night a black bear not only entered the campground, but rooted around my site and Jay’s. Thankfully I slept through it, but unfortunately the bear brushed right up against Jay’s tent, waking him up. He told me about it the next day and it made my hair raise. Every ranger and piece of literature in Glacier warns about bears, and we took every possible precaution, but it just shows that wildlife is exactly that: wild. Thankfully there was no incident, but it spooked us both a bit.

That Saturday was rainy most of the day, and Jay and I were ready to relax a bit after a long hike the day before, so we set up a rain tarp over my picnic table and played Sorry over some tea and Bailey’s. I wouldn’t think to bring a board game camping, but Jay has been camping since before I was born and I’m glad he had it. Later that day, after the rain passed, we went for a drive on Glacier’s famed Going-To-The-Sun road. I wanted to get some pictures in dusky lighting conditions, and I succeeded. After the drive, we came back and made an excellent dinner and took special care not to leave so much as a single grain of quinoa anywhere a bear could find.

The next morning, I went out for some photographs at dawn, only to find out that sunset is better for where I was. I still got some good shots, and I was shooting mostly film so I’ll post those photos when they are processed. When I got back to camp, Jay had moved to another campsite on the west side of the park (he had been talking about it the night before so it wasn’t a surprise) and left me a note. I stayed in my site because I was heading east to Yellowstone the next day, but we exchanged contact info and hopefully we can get together when I’m in LA.

On my last afternoon in Glacier, I trekked out for more photos and on my way back at dusk the lunar eclipse “supermoon” was out in full force. It was a cloudless night and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to be witnessing it among the most beautiful wilderness I’ve ever seen, even if I made my own luck in that instance. I did not photograph the moon because I didn’t have the kind of telephoto needed to do it justice, and besides, sometimes memories are more important than photos.

After a pretty cold night in a virtually empty campground, I got up, broke camp, and started the drive south to Yellowstone. Glacier was everything I had hoped it would be and more.

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Day 17: Mount Rushmore

One way I’ve learned to occupy myself on these long drives.

I left the beautiful campground in Keystone, SD and made a quick drive to Mount Rushmore. I hadn’t really planned to see Mount Rushmore on this trip, but when I was planning my route the day before, I realized I would be traveling very nearby it. It is a fun subject. I tried to take some photos that were outside the obvious common portrait.

My obvious common portrait:

My best attempts at other ways of seeing it:

Not long after Mount Rushmore, I finally made it to Montana. Eastern Montana is very much like the plains, but with enormous sweeping hills and ancient stones jutting out from the ground. Like most of Montana, it is nearly impossible to represent well in a photograph. For me, anyway. 

This is an example. Those mountains look absolutely huge in person, but across the plains a wide angle lens can’t represent that.

I made another unplanned stop when I saw a sign that said “Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument.” I got there with fifteen minutes before the monument closed, but it was enough time to look around and speak to the guide about the battle.

The monument at Little Bighorn:

After that I had no plans and I knew I couldn’t get all the way to Glacier in one night, so I drove until I got tired and parked at a rest stop/city park the tiny town of Roundup to sleep in my car for a few hours. I hadn’t slept in my car yet on this trip but I slept surprisingly well and nobody bothered me. I got up at dawn and jumped right back on the road, excited to finally get to Glacier that day.

Dawn in Petroleum County, Montana:

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Day 16: Sioux Falls to Keystone, SD

I had a hard time sleeping in Sioux Falls because the cheap hotel I chose was moist, smoky, and warm. I shouldn’t have to run an air conditioner at full blast all night in South Dakota in late September just to keep from sweltering. I also had a little crisis of confidence for the first time after having spent too much money in Chicago and Madison. I may have to alter my route or the length of time I’m on the road or both, but for now I motor on because I am determined to get to Glacier National Park. I’ll let the chips fall where they may after that. I did institute a much more frugal plan today, though. It involves sleeping in my car more and eating more PBJs. But for now I am content and financially sound at a charming and inexpensive campsite in Keystone, SD. I somehow have wi-fi while simultaneously being surrounded by deer and rabbits so all is right in my world.

Today was another long run across 90 west. South Dakota along 90 is mostly plains that occasionally breaks into dramatic foothills. The area along and just west of the Missouri river was especially beautiful. There are very few exits or gas stations. I met some people from Melbourne, FL at a rest stop after they admired my Florida tag. They sported New York tags, saying they moved to Buffalo from Melbourne and were in the middle of moving to Washington state. I guess they should eventually move to San Diego and they’ll have all four corners of the country wrapped up in a tidy bow.

The main attraction of my drive today was Badlands National Park. There is a thirty mile scenic loop off of 90 that I took on my way to Wall. It goes through the park and there are plenty of trails and places to stop. I got to use my annual national parks pass for the first time. The terrain of the Badlands is otherworldly. It’s like a mountain range in miniature, and alternates between dried silt peaks and grassy plains on top of sheer cliffs that reminded me of the west coast of Ireland. I would have liked to spend more time in Badlands, but as I mentioned, I want to get to Glacier before it starts shutting down for the season. Here are my favorite pictures of the day, which were almost all superficially taken from just off the road.

This is the gist of what all of Badlands National Park looks like. You can’t help but conjure up pre-colonial Native American buffalo hunts.

I have been inspired by a photography book my friend Cady got me for my birthday. I am trying to take pictures that include landscapes but are not only landscapes. I am nowhere near the artistic level that the book features, but I am trying to find subjects that aren’t the most obvious ones. I’ve had a thing for cars my whole life so that clearly factors in:

Speaking of cars, here’s my trusty Outback showing its backside:

The strata (I think that’s the right word) of all the rock formations in Badlands almost creates an optical illusion, but those horizontal lines are actually there and the effect is even more disorienting in person:

And this last one is Hwy 90 in a nutshell. It’s 90% signs for Wall Drug, which I visited but did not photograph. It’s basically the South of the Border of the west.

Today I am going to visit Mt. Rushmore and then head out to Montana!

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Day 15: Madison to Sioux Falls

Today I booked it along highway 90 west from Madison, WI to Sioux Falls, SD. It was a beautiful drive (Wisconsin especially, and the LaCrosse river valley) but I am in a hurry to get to Montana before the weather gets snowy, so I didn’t stop and eat the roses. The only stop I made was in Blue Earth, Minnesota because when a sixty foot Jolly Green Giant (JGG) shows up on the horizon, you go to it. I like these pictures because there is no scale. It might as well be an action figure.

And okay fine here’s some scale:

Since I don’t have many pictures to share today, I thought I’d show my route so far and my top three roadtrip songs:

That doesn’t seem like much looking at it in that picture, but it’s two weeks today and 2700 miles. And it’s weird to think I am in South Dakota already and it’s still 1000 miles to Glacier National Park in Montana. But I’m going.

Here are my top three roadtrip songs so far. These have been on heavy rotation in my one-disc CD player in my ten year-old car, which is not ideal for a long roadtrip, what with all the newfangled blueteeth these days, but I’m an album guy so it works just fine. These selections should come as no surprise if you know me, but listening to them on the road has made them that much more meaningful.

Time for bed since I have another long day on Hwy 90 tomorrow. The good news: my senses are working better up here and I can smell again! The bad news: this hotel room has definitely not always been non-smoking.

(Honorable mention: my other favorite roadtrip video)

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Days 11-14: Cincinnati/Chicago/Madison

I left Cincinnati, a city whose name I have finally learned to spell, on Friday morning to go to Chicago via Ft. Wayne Indiana. I wanted to stop by Sweetwater, the biggest music gear retailer to include candy in their orders. I looked around at Sweetwater for a while and saw some cool stuff but the publicly-accessible side of the store wasn’t much different than a Guitar Center. I bought a harmonica and neck harness so I can try to teach myself harmonica while also keeping both hands on the wheel.

Here is a wind turbine somewhere in Indiana. I can’t help but photograph these things. 

Once I got north of Ft. Wayne, the weather turned against me. There was an unseasonably intense rainstorm in the Chicago area on Friday, and I drove through the worst of it into Chicago during Friday rush hour. I don’t like driving in big cities (who does) and the rainstorm made it way worse. I was at about a twenty foot visibility in heavy, aggressive traffic for three hours straight. I was even run off the road once, and I’m pretty sure it was intentionally. Hey Chicago, here’s a tip: if you don’t want terrible, dangerous traffic, you might want to actually mark the lanes on the road and put up signs that tell you what street you’re on. It’s a radical idea, I know, but it seems to have worked for every other city.

I somehow made it to Chicago safely and was happily greeted by my friends, an open parking spot, and a beer. We went out for burgers and then to a weird house party that, from what I could tell, was full of 24 year-old stock brokers listening to an equal mix of house music and Lenny Kravitz.

The next day made up for the weather from the night before. It was perfect city-walkin’ weather, and that’s what we did. We walked around all the livelong day, vitising the Hancock Building, Michigan Ave, the Chicago Riverwalk, and all the other touristy stuff that I am not ashamed to do because who cares. I am a tourist.

Looking up at the Hancock Building:

Looking down from the Hancock Building:

The famous buildings from the album cover of Hotel California:

 Cat and I in complementary plaids:

Our runnin’ crew at Sully’s for the Gators game:

Great sign at Big Star in Wicker Park. I think the reference was lost on my friends but we can’t all be music nerds.

On Sunday I departed my friends in Logan Square and went to see my one of my oldest friends David at his partner Dirk’s architectural firm’s open house. Dirk is an architect par excellence and it was amazing to see all of his work on display in a gallery style. 

One of the models at the open house:

David and I caught up over coffee and then I headed out to Heaven, aka Chicago Music Exchange where I met up with Gainesville friends (and also old friends since middle school) Collin and Lindsey, who I didn’t know were in Chicago until the night before. Collin is also a guitar nerd so we geeked out real hard at the coolest music store on the planet:

After CME, we went to a heavy metal-themed burger joint called Kuma’s Corner which I have wanted to visit since my buddy and former coworker Andrew told me about it. It lived up to the hype, and Collin, who is a metalhead par excellence, was in hog heaven.

After lunch I drove to Madison Wisconsin, which marked the first part of the country in my 2300 miles so far that I had never visited before. Madison is a really beautiful place and I lucked out on a good rate at a nice hotel in the heart of the city. 

Here is the real reason I went to Madison, though:

I’ve been a fan of FJM for a long time and this was my first opportunity to see him play. I only found out they were nearby because I follow his drummer on Instagram. The show was top notch and Josh Tillman is a singer par excellence. His public persona is snarky and cynical, which gets old, but on stage he was likable, humble, and hilarious. The band was on and I had a great seat. I guess when you’re over 30 and short you choose the really good balcony view over the really close floor spot.

Sorry Josh, I ignored your admonition and snuck one anyway:

Today I am off to get my cracked phone screen fixed (I foolishly dropped it in Chicago within hours of activating my new phone) and then truckin’ it west on 90. I’m hoping to get to Sioux Falls, SD today but we’ll see how distracted I get by photogenic lands that are totally new to me. I hear the South Dakota countryside has views par excellence.

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Days 9-11: Blue Ridge Parkway/Linville, NC

In Boone I stayed at the Hidden Valley Motel, and even though both these terms have lost a lot of their meaning recently, it was literally a mom and pop operation. If you’re ever in western NC needing an affordable and quaint place to stay, look up Maxine and Jim. Jim is originally from Savannah but his accent was so thick I initially mistook him for a Mainer. It was a short drive to Linville Falls Campground, which was far and away the most beautiful and serene campground I’ve ever been to. I had a large, isolated site on the edge of a beautiful gully and the temperature was perfect for spending all of my time outside.

When the sun started to go down my first night there, I was treated to this treeline light show:

I made a fire, roasted some hot dogs and chili, and drank enough beer to put me to bed because I had big plans in the morning. 

Long exposure of my campsite at night:

In the morning I woke up at 4:45 because I was determined to watch (and photograph) the sun rise over the mountains. I headed out to the Blue Ridge Parkway to find a good spot, and found one just as the sky was starting to lighten. I seemed to be the only person out on the Parkway so it felt like I had all of Appalachia to myself.

Here are my favorite photos of the sunrise:

Once it was light out, I went back to camp and made coffee, eggs, and bacon. I hung around and read until the sunrise wore off and the coffee kicked in. Here are some photos from around the camp.

Campfire coffee

My little spot in the gully:

This is what happens when you leave your tent unzipped:

After a lunch of wheat thins, I headed out to visit Linville Falls and Grandfather Mountain, both of which were really close to the campsite.

Linville Falls (the part visible from the easy hike, anyway):

Grandfather Mountain is privately owned, so I had to fork over $20 to visit, but it ended up being worth it. It is a mile high and there is a bridge spanning the two peaks.

That night I headed back out on the parkway to get that Lucky Old Sun on its way down too. I found a spot out on the parkway again, facing west this time, and the depth of the colors in the sky was indescribable. The next morning I broke camp and headed north and west towards Cincinnati. I’m writing from my friends Victoria and Jeff’s beautiful 130 year-old house on the east side of Cincinnati, moments before I take off for Chicago. Thanks for looking and follow me on Instagram @chrisahillman.

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Day 8: Boone, NC

I went to Boone to see a show of my favorite contemporary artist: Daniel Romano and his band The Trilliums. I’ve been a huge fan of Dan since I first heard his heartbreaking version of She Was The World To Me a few years back, but I ended up being blown away at his brand of traditional country that recalls George Jones, Gram Parsons, and Randy Travis.

The timing was right to cross paths with Dan and the band since I was planning to camp in the North Carolina mountains that week anyway. I had a BLT at the venue and hung around waiting for the show. Luckily the bands were hanging out too so I got to meet everyone and chat a bit. I struck up a conversation with opening act (and Daniel Romano’s protégé of sorts) Dylan Earl. Dylan hails from Louisiana and Arkansas so we talked geography and music. He played his set with the Trilliums backing him up for the first time. He has a hell of a country voice. Daniel Romano and the Trilliums played a rootsy rock version of their set rather than the traditional country. It was great and the new arrangements were a lot of fun to hear.

After relentlessly playing music myself for the better part of a decade, I had become a little burnt out on live music recently, but this show fired me up again. Here are my favorite photos from the show:

Dylan Earl:

Excellent Charlotte act Sinners & Saints (sorry guys this was the only good shot I got)

Daniel Romano and the Trilliums:

Guitarist Kay Berkel:

Bassist Roddy Kuester, formerly of the Hackensaw Boys:

Nice walnut brown P-Bass...I wanna say ‘78?

Dan getting help from a fan on the lyrics of the Pogues’ Dirty Old Town:

Not the best composition but I have to highlight Roddy’s amazing Gram Parsons-inspired strap. Obviously I need the Chris Hillman version.

Follow me on Instagram @chrisahillman for more adventures and travel photography.

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Days 4-7: Raleigh/Durham/Cary NC

After Charleston, I drove to Cary, NC to visit my sister for a long weekend. She moved there from Georgia last fall and I’ve been telling her I’d come visit ever since. She and her boyfriend Jason showed me a hell of a time, literally wining and dining me the whole weekend. Thank you both for your hospitality and generosity!

Some of the highlights were a visit to SoundPure in downtown Durham, where Eddie and Barry were kind enough to take me in the back room and show me some beautiful one-of-a-kind custom musical instruments; CowFish in Raleigh that had an enormous menu of fusion Japanese/American foods; the NC State Farmer’s Market and restaurant where I ate some of the best fried chicken I’ve ever had; Weaver Street Guitars in Carrboro where I admired a beautiful selection of custom guitars and had a nice chat with the owner, Rick; and a visit to one of my oldest friends, Nicole, at her lovely house in Hillsborough.

I didn’t take many pictures, but here are a few:

Fruits and veggies at the NC State farmer’s market:

Becky and Jason making me probably the best margarita I’ve ever had:

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Days 1-3: Charleston, SC

Before embarking on my roadtrip, I spent some time with my dad in Nokomis, FL. It was the first time I’ve been able to spend more than a weekend with him in several years. We ate, drank, and boated our way through a week of much overdue father-and-son time. Naturally, it went by too quickly and I can’t wait to go back with new stories to tell him.

On September 8, the day after Labor Day and what would have been my mom’s 55th birthday, I began my trip. Here I am brimming with hubris next to my trusty Outback, moments before I left Florida:

Nine and a half hours later, I arrived in Charleston at the house of one of my closest and oldest friends, Parker. That night he took me to three excellent bars (Hōm, The Rarebit, and AC’s) while we caught up and I got a feel for the city. This was my fourth or fifth time in Charleston and I like it more every time I visit. Here’s Parker in front of his enormous house:

The next day, Parker and his girlfriend and I spent the day at Folly Beach, a beautiful and practically deserted stretch of coast just south of the city. We were unsuccessful in our fishing but very successful in our sunburning. Here is my favorite shot of a photogenic drifttree on Folly Beach:

After the beach, we recuperated with happy hour cocktails and a smorgasbord of half-priced seafood at Water’s Edge. Later on, Parker and I rode bikes around the city, stopping for drinks at Salty Mike’s and Burns Alley, where a man named Porkchop was playing piano and we sang along to “You Never Even Called Me By My Name.” The next morning, Parker took me to the Marina Variety Store for breakfast where I had a fitting Charlestonian sendoff with a bowl of shrimp n’ grits and some fried green tomatoes. Next stop: Raleigh, NC.

I’m not on Facebook anymore but you can follow my trip here and on Instagram @chrisahillman.

[coastlinetothecity]

Day 0

Welcome. I am a traveling photographer and musician. This is where you will find all my photos and stories from the road. Since I haven’t left yet, please enjoy the source of this site’s namesake. From the coastline to the city all the little pretties raise their hands.