Wanderlust Heroes

4 people, 14 days, 16 states, 1 epic roadtrip.

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Into the Woods

After a magical day in the Keys, our best bet financially was to take yet another overnight adventure to arrive in Tampa. However, our ventures would not be the smoothest. Night construction led us astray and the GPS detour decided to take us straight through a swampy forest in the darkest hour of the blackest night. There was no guiding star burning bright, just an eerie road filled with gator tourist spots. Seeing this, Nova at the helm asked "what do I do if I see a gator in the road?" Roadtrip expert, Fern, immediately answered "you run it down!" We laughed about it and continued along into the starless night. The roads were empty nigh for us so we used our brights to venture along. As a lovely verse of "I'll Make A Man Out Of You" came to a close, happiness filled the air. Lo, an oncoming car! We kill the brights and darkness encompasses the road ahead again with swamps on both our sides. As the car comes our way, a shadowy figure emmerges in the road. This log stretched from over the double yellow lines into the shoulder. But log it was not. This monstrous gator lay still. Now, my eyes were on the side of the road, hand stretched out the window so I saw not what happened next but a thud broke my trance and I see Fern's hand gripped on the wheel and Nova was in shock. I learn we struck a gator and it's head had just flew past my arm, missing it by inches. Having not seen the action, I picture it in my head and crack up. My laughter was stopped shortly by the panic of Nova, stricken with guilt having taken the life of a creature. Tru had awoken and slept again within an instant so it was up to Fern and I to calm the shaken Nova. Fern went for consoling by saying it essly and instantly in a decapitated flurry. My first instinct was to tell her the gator she just struck was a beast that would have eaten thousand of babies including Prince George and Princess Ackles. All in all, the incident has become a story to remember and almost no scars have been left. Just a remarkable tale for all of us to blog about. - Strik

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Magical Land of NOLA (Day 6)

Tru is ready to move. As soon as we stepped foot in the French Quarter she just knew that this was the place for her. After a wonderful meal of the local grub: gumbo and jumbalaya at Stanley's, we were ready for exploring. We waltzed through the dark, mysterious streets of NOLA in search of excitement and happened upon a jazz band playing in the street. The architecture, lamps, flowers, people, unique stores, and magic was unlike any other place we had ever been. Our journey took us to Bourbon Street where most of the hustle and bustle occurred. We bar crawled; Tru getting the most drunk. Unfortunately we had an early takeoff time the next morning so we had to go back to our hotel while the night was young. We woke up exhausted, ready to continue our trek into the unknown, and it felt completely worth it.

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Tru's perspective of Gary's bucket kicking:

I was almost asleep when I heard screaming and felt the bump which felt like we had just murdered a human being. My heart dropped and body tensed. "What just happened?" Fern proceeded to say that we just ran over an alligator and it's head popped off and flew past the driver's side window. Totally normal Saturday night. I couldn't stay awake due to some drowsy prescriptions and I faded in and out of sleep as they continued to talk about the gator incident for hours.

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Ode to Pierre

Eyes locked, beatiful hazel saw straight into my soul. His skin was velvet and dark like the midnight sky. His voice was smooth like butter and his laugh like a babbling brook. He was beautiful. "What can I get for you, baby?" Heart a flutter, I placed my order. The perfect portions were assembled, all fitting together in harmony. This man was an artist. Smiles and pleasantries exchanged- oh how he made me laugh! The order complete, I walked away with a heavy heart. I fell in love in Long Beach, Mississippi. I walked away from Pierre, the Prince of Subway. King of my heart. -Nova

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Gary the Gator, In Memoriam

All I wanted to do is drive. I move forward with every mile traveled, leaving a little bit more behind. A wrong turn and I found myself transporting the group through a dense woods with intermittent swamps. Eerie, a creeping fear began to course through me. I did not want to be here. But wait, how many miles had we driven? How many close calls had I survived? I know I’m not invincible, but worse things have happened. I ask the group to join me in a round of “I’ll make a man out of you” to ease the tension. Immediately, we burst into song until I saw a gator tourist area. I smiled and thought how odd it was for people to want to see gators. I once again remembered our surroundings and an ominous sinking feeling took hold.

"What if I see a gator in the road? What do I do?"

Without hesitation, Fern responded “Drive right through it!”

I laughed and asked her to Google it, I wouldn’t hit it. We continued down the road, Fern and Strick’s eyes peeled to the sides for a glimpse of yellow circles that reflected the headlights. I looked forward and blinked, 1 Is that a log? I see yellow

2 Gator, fast move. Swamps either side. Oncoming car.

3 slight scream. No options. Help. Keep straight, don’t move, your responsibilty to keep them safe. Close eyes and lock arms.

4 Boom, AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH 5 eyes open, gator head flying past my window, wildly spinning towards Strick’s arm. He’s going to get hurt. My fault.

6 near miss. You killed it. Beheaded the gator. What have you done?

Life is precious. All life, all are necessary parts of the wheel.

Guilt.

I could have killed them. We could have flipped, lost a tire, crashed. I didn’t have time to take any other course.

But I did kill. I killed the gator. I didn’t mean too, I didn’t mean to cause it pain. It’s not the monster, I am.

Uncontrollable tears streamed down my face, the laughter from the others died (almost as instantaneously as the gator) and consoling words and jokes aimed to help me. I was in shock. I had tensed up and curled into a ball with my arms straight not touching the gas or the brakes. I did what I could.

Another hour through the swamp lead to a town, I ran inside afraid I was going to puke. The gas station had gator heads on top of their soda machines, they could have a third if they found Gary (the gator).

I blink and see the head fly past me. Everything happens for a reason, right?

-Nova

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Atlanta, Georgia (Day 7)

I'm not quite sure how Nova (who is usually terrible at waking up on a good day) and Tru (who was drunk enough to become a woo girl on the streets of Nola) woke up on time, but we were up and out of our New Orleans hotel at 5am. Nova was so awake, in fact, that she drove us out of Lousiana, not that Tru noticed. This was evidenced by the fact that when the gorgeous Subway Sandwich Artist, Pierre, asked what "y'all are doin in lil long beach, Mississippi", Tru's eyes widened in surprise as she shouted "We're in Mississippi?!"... (Pierre laughed and guessed that we'd had a long night on bourbon street not a few hours ago). The drive was uneventful, unless you count a stop at an Alabama Walmart and Strik stressfully putting together a gift scrapbook for his last Meet and Greet with The Wanted. Everything went smoothly (though hot) until we stopped at a gas station outside of Montgomery, AL. That's when Tru lost her iPhone. After tearing up the car in a panic, we explored alternative options. Did she drop it out of the car? Leave it in the bathroom? Was it stolen? Did she throw it out with the rest of the trash? As it turns out, the latter was a good guess. Tru, with a mix of disbelief and disgust colouring her features, pulled her phone by the winding headphone from the gas station trash. There is a video documenting this, though it's hard to watch from the laughter shaking the camera. Atlanta itself was sweltering, but nice. Strik was anxious and stressed, but we found the venue with ease and the band recognized him at the meet and greet, so everything was worth it at the end of the day. Instead of walking around in blistering heat, we headed out of the city to set up camp at Mine & Nova's cousin's house in Griffin. This was the first of a few times in the roadtrip that we were to stay with a relative, and we were unsure how it would go. In a word, it was perfect. Laundry for the first time in a week, showers in the world's cutest bathroom. A homecooked meal of barbecued goodness complete with beans and potato salad to die for. Top that off with s'mores around a campfire, and we felt spoilt. Alannah, our cousin, lives with her husband, stepson, and adopted twins. She is open, candid, generous, and hilarious. It made for an entertaining night, and spiced up out routine camping night. She even sent us packing in the morning with bags upon bags of snack foods. The night in the tent was warm and comfortable, despite the bad omen the night started with. Nova and Strik were unconscious, having fallen asleep each within a minute of hitting the pillow. As Tru and I settled into the night, the peaceful chirp of crickets and light snores of old dogs were drowned out by something running past the tent, in hot pursuit of some other creature. The noise they made is indescribable, and only Tru can come close to imitating the sounds of whatever creatures were having an intimate tango just outside the walls of the tent. (Intimate tango or hunger games style brawl, the jury is still out). We are referring to them as turkeycoons, because they sounded like raccoon sized turkeys with a vocal combination of the two. Somehow, this did not wake up either of our companions, any of the house's residents, or the dog sleeping at the edge of the fence. The turkeycoons will live on forever as mysterious legends in the mythos of our roadtrip. Atlanta was not out favourite city, but camping in a cousin's yard could not have been more fun or successful. It was refreshing and a true change of pace that was just as smooth as the rest of our trip.

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Where The Water Lies Calmly

Let's go back in a time a few days here - May 3rd specifically. Our travels took us astray to Oklahoma as we had made fantastic time thus far. After the stop in Tulsa (see previous blog post), Strik had requested a stop in the state as well. Oklahoma is the birthplace of Kappa Kappa Psi, National. Honorary Band Fraternity. In November of 1919, at the then Oklahoma A&M (now Oklahoma State) University this organization was formed and now, 95 years later, serves college and university bands all over the national with a strong leadership team and committed group of brothers. This co-ed group kept it's roots in Oklahoma. In Stillwater, OK the National Headquarters of KKPsi and Tau Beta Sigma (the sister sorority) stands in what used to be the train station. Stillwater Station was our stop that evening. We pulled up to a colorful sign stating the purpose of what would otherwise be an abandoned building. Strik stopped the car and ran out. The station still stands immediately next to the tracks even though it has not been operational for decades. In the distance stood an old brick building with the words "Stillwater". The building is exactly what you expect of a 100 year old train station. To the right is the "Kappa Caboose", a preserved railcar. While we arrived in the late evening, the operations were not running and the building was closed but you could see a glowing crest of the fraternity from inside the building. Strik felt at home, but there was one thing more to do while in this city - stop at Oklahoma State University. You might be thinking why? 95 years later and it can't possibly look like it did when A. Frank Martin and his fellow brothers founded this great organization. Well, the fraternity's shrine, an irregular shaft of Oklahoma pink granite, stands on the campus to this day. We arrived and navigated the campus, with the help of some friendly college kids, to the Classroom building. Our slight detour through OSU wasn't objected by Nova, who wants to transfer because it is gorgeous. Now, to Tru, Fern and Nova arriving at the shaft must have been anticlimactic because it is just tall rock. To Strik, this "rock" was symbolic of 95 years of people just like himself who devoted themselves to the advancement of the college and university band programs. The shrine stood tall, and we used phone lights to illuminate the rock on this starry evening to photograph. The night ended in Oklahoma City and Strik knew this, if he must die, he is a brother of K - K - Psi.

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New Orleans, LA!

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Dallas, Day 3

Oklahoma didn’t have tumbleweeds (not so far east, anyway) and it was greener than expected. These undesertlike conditions continued into Texas, the next new state on our journey. The temperature maxed out 96*F, and at least two of us suffered (and are continuing to suffer) dehydration. Swollen ankles aside, we still enjoyed our brief foray into what I’m told by a billboard is the “identity theft capital of Texas”, more commonly referred to as ‘Dallas’.

It didn’t start out great. The city was mostly dead on the scalding hot Sunday afternoon, and parking was expensive in the artsy area. We ended up parking for free at the hard rock, and relying on urbanspoon to find eats before Strik hit his first concert of the trip at the house of blues that night. For the first time in (for)ever, urbanspoon failed me. The restaurant we all suffered walking in the blistering sunlight for was closed. We ended up, aptly enough, at Dick’s Last Resort. The premise of this restaurant is that the staff can be dicks to you. Luckily we didn’t get a super embarrassing waiter/tress, and we walked out with some pretty funny hats.

Strik left us for The Wanted then, and we drove around Dallas. Finding nothing open, we ran errands- including using kohl’s cash to buy new sunglasses, because reasons.

Dallas is one of the larger cities by population, but it’s very sprawling. Knowing this, I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the skyline and architecture downtown. Unique shapes and concepts, and it transforms at night with a whole new world of lighting.

The experience of Dallas might not have been so good if not done with the right company. Protip: it doesn’t matter where, when, or how you travel- the company (be it your own or your friends/family) is the most important thing. Being with people who can laugh through stress and dance through change makes all the difference.

We left Dallas late and slept at Fern’s amazing wonderful perfect friend Megan at her new apartment in Austin. Megan has been giving Fern a place to stay while traveling for years. Her apartment was full of homemade furniture, art, and an amazingly cute garden on the balcony. She had a fridge full of ready-to-juice fruits and veggies, and she treated us to a sneak viewing of her recently filmed music video, her passion when she’s not working at her job at google. (meganleonardosongs.com people!) Basically she’s a walking tumblr post, and an amazing person. Nova is seriously considering a move.

Texas is huge, it’s a lot more diverse than you’d expect, and it is well worthy of a trip dedicated to exploring it’s cities and towns.

[wanderlustheroes]

Staying with Megan in Austin, Texas (Day 3)

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Stay Gold, Tulsa!

Tru was able to fullfill a mostly lifelong dream in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Since her youth she has been an avid and dedicated fan of the book The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton which became a movie in 1983 directed by Francis Ford Coppola. She and her best friend in the world were obsessed (no exaggeration) with the movie in their middle school years. Our travels took us on a detour to Oklahoma so of course she asked to stop at one of the locations where the movie was filmed. As we pulled up to the park where Johnny Cade stabbed Bob the "Soc" with a switchblade, Tru Facetimed her bestie. They screamed, they rejoiced, they were happy. Tulsa: check!

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"Wait. Is this for leprechauns?" -Fern

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A scenic stop in Oklahoma on the left. A selfie taken on the road to Texas by Tru on the right.

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Post Window Arms I am dehydrated and exhausted. I will tell you all about day 3 tomorrow. -Fern

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Day 3, Hot Springs Arkansas The wanderlust heroes made yet another spontaneous decision to stray from their planned path. Instead of drumming along Interstate 40, our travelers navigated their way into Hot Springs. Did you know it's the childhood home of Bill Clinton? Murals honoring the 42nd president were scattered throughout the small town and popped up in the strangest places. After stopping by the cultural visitor center, our adventurers traveled up Central Ave to explore bath row. Multiple bathouses lined the street giving weary people acess to therapeutic mineral waters straight from Mother Nature. These waters potentially heated up to 148 degrees Fahrenheit. There was an open spring accessible from the sidewalk, a perfect stop for the gang to sit and relax. There was a community orchestra that played in a park tucked away between the bustling downtown stores. Southern and American classics filled the air giving Hot Springs a personality and twang that can only be truly experienced south of the Mason-Dixon. As the wanderers headed back to the car, a pleasant smell wafted from a soapery. Handmade, customizable soaps peaked the curiosity of the group and their wallets cried a little bit. Who could say no to soap bars made with Gardenias and Lilacs? You could? Well, it smelled like you stuck your head into a flower bed so it was worth it. (It's hard to find natural and good smelling soaps, people!) Wallets lighter, the group hopped back into the oven, I mean "car", and were on the road once again. What state will they sleep in tonight? What adventure lies ahead for our wanderlust heroes? Let's find out.

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Camping in Memphis, Day 2

As the four of us headed into Memphis (around 10am), we wondered vaguely where we'd sleep that night. As luck or fate would have it, Memphis in May is a thing, and the Beale Street music festival was seeing it's first spell of good weather in years. An accidental happening upon an event like this is great- it's not something we'd usually get to do. But it also means that hotel prices are jacked up. With Strik's discounts included, we were looking at a minimum of 75/night. So camping it is, right? Well, not necessarily. A lot of people had the idea, too, because the first few places we called were booked. All credit to Strick who found a campsite for 8.74 a night. (T.O. Fuller State Park) The site was an open field with a few trees sprinkled throughout. Very few tents were there, and those belonged to a bunch of good natured hippies. Putting up our tent became a test of resourcefulness since we were missing two key pieces, but we got it in maybe 14 minutes. Right after the showers wildly exceeded our expectations, it was a beautiful 68*F and all of us crashed for a nap. A lengthy nap. A glorious, amazing, refreshing nap in the sun and breeze. Nova and Strik got to truly experience the music festival, and Tru and Fern dipped into Mississippi for a moment. (Separate post!) All in all, everything about this camp experience was amazing. Everything from harmonising in the camp showers to waking with the sun was memorable.

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Day 2, Nova and Strik enjoying beer on Beale St. The funny thing about road trips is you never know what you're going to stumble upon. As fate would have it, the Memphis in May festival started Friday May 2nd, the same day we arrived. In our search for what activities were scheduled, Strik found a tabloid article stating Princes William and Harry were also in Memphis this weekend. Nova took pictures of blonde haired men with bald spots for the rest of the day hoping to cross paths with the royals to no avail. After a glorious hibernation, Strik and Nova went to Beale St looking for adventure and libations. Upon arrival, we went through a security check point, pushed past police and hot fire men, and found ourselves next to the world famous Alfred's. The air was filled with music, laughter, and the smell of bbq. We ventured up Beale St towards Tater Red's and Club 152, walking through a crowd comprised of a wide age range and race without issue. A group of people in black shirts filled the street holding signs that said repent and claimed they had THE answer. A young man, who was relatively cute, asked if he could pray for us. Nova smiled and asked for him to pray the group has safe travels. We were given flyers and went on our way to get 32oz of PBR and checked out some of the stores. Our first stop was Tater Red's whose merchandise was impressively diverse and witty. Voodoo charms, cowboy hats, water pipes, retro gifts, and signed memorabilia. A very sociable employee gave us a newspaper in which she highlighted places we should check out and others that weren't worth it. We thanked her and went to an adjacent store. They also had witty items such as silverware bent to look like people playing instruments and trumpet lamps. The owners were super friendly and danced through the store (as did Nova). The music emanating from an array of bars and side streets were soulful, jazz, pop hits, and club music. In Hanoy Park, a jazz band played and interacted with their audience, showing newbies how to walk on Beale St with sass using their, er, sass. Cute Jesus boy came over and asked if we were enjoying our night and told us a bit about himself. Nova wishes she'd gotten his name. Strik and Nova decided dessert was necessary and chugged the rest of the beer (in front of police on horses, oops) in order to gain entry to Alfred's. Unfortunately, they asked for a $5 cover per person and since Fern and Tru went to get the car and surely would have been back momentarily, they returned home dessertless. Open alcohol was allowed on the street until 3am and then it needed to be contained to bars which closed around 6am. The majority of the bands were playing inside bars or the FedEx Emporium and charged a decent amount of money to see their performances. Memphis in May was definitely worth it, but requires a larger budget than anticipated. Oh well, that just means another road trip next year.