Tag Archives: Couchsurfing

When Yosemite is Your Yard

Posted on June 28, 2013 by wesblueyes

The roads from Lake Tahoe to Yosemite wind around and around. I’m not used to mountain driving, but it doesn’t really scare me. You just stay on the road. The height doesn’t really worry me too much, because I keep my eyes on the road. Paying attention is probably the most helpful thing one can do in mountain driving where staying on the road becomes even more important than it is on flat land.

I was happy to rest in Angel’s Camp for a while. A cute little town, I loved how they had clothes hanging over the street. It reminded me of shoes that hang above Spectre in Big Fish. Signs were in every window for the upcoming Culaveras County Jumping Frog Jubilee. Apparently Angel’s Camp’s claim to fame is that Mark Twain published a story about a frog from there.

Jumping Frog Mural

I didn’t really have a place to stay planned out for Yosemite. I thought I’d find a camping spot either inside the park or somewhere nearby. I had heard rumors about maybe some nearby BLM camping. I was caught off guard though when I found out that all the campgrounds in Yosemite were filled to capacity and that there wasn’t any BLM land nearby. I decided the smart thing to do would to be to stop and rent a bear can at least, so if I did make some last-minute camping arrangements than I wouldn’t have to worry about my car being broken into.

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California Dreamin’ – Los Angeles

Posted on June 10, 2013 by wesblueyes
My Hollywood Look! Hahaha!

My Hollywood Look! Hahaha!

I met Hamid at a nearby Starbucks. I wanted to be extra cautious Couchsurfing with someone new to the community. My first impression confirmed all the stereotypes I had of Southern Californians: healthy, attractive, tan, linen pants, sandals, beanie, man jewelry, shades, kinda metro. I go to shake his hand, and he tells me he’s a hugger. He has a really laid back, generous vibe.

I ask if we can go to Target before his place, because I need to pick up, “you know, some bread, some pretzels…. lettuce.” He gives me a smirk, “I have pretzels, I have bread. I have too much of it.”

Later at his place, I realized he was right. He shopped at Cosco and had a giant jar of pretzels. In Woodland Hills, the neighborhood was vivid with spring. Hamid’s yard had a forest of rose blossoms in the front. It’s a beautiful spacious house, a grand piano is the focal point of the granite and light filled living space. Musical instruments and speakers fill the rest of the surface.

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My First Pacific View – Long Beach, CA

Posted on June 6, 2013 by wesblueyes

I pulled into Long Beach, so excited to see the Pacific. I remembered looking out on the Atlantic from the St. Simon’s Island Lighthouse the weekend before I left looking forward to this day. I felt a wave of bliss over my accomplishment. I had managed to traverse across the entire country by myself! I was invited to Couchsurf with Marc and his roommate right on Ocean Ave. It was right in the middle of the action and across the street from the beach. Things were pretty noisy and parking was difficult in this very urban environment. I didn’t realize that I had scheduled my arrival for the weekend of the Toyota Grand Prix. The races greatly affected parking availability.

Do you see a spot?
The Grand Prix area.
Graffiti Rocks
Oil rigs decorated to look hidden.
We hung out together for a while.
My ladybug friend.
Sand Pipers
My first real view of the Pacific!
Yoga in the park.
Mural of the history of Long Beach.

I started the first evening with a walk on the beach. I made several lady bug friends in the sand. I know I’ve been lucky. I picked them up and they crawled all over my arms. They were my lucky little friends, coming to join me on my luck. Read the rest of this entry →

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Viva Las Vegas

Posted on May 30, 2013 by wesblueyes

I planned to camp at Mead Lake before entering Las Vegas. Along the road I was distracted by the little Route 66 town of Seligman, Arizona. I had to stop for a float and to walk the streets filled with antique cars and vintage storefronts.

Seligman put me about an hour off of my estimated arrival time and I pulled into the Lake Mead area to witness a sunset over that strange landscape and the locked doors of the visitor’s center. After determining that it would be impossible to find a camping spot in the dark, I headed to the little town of Boulder City, NV. While the town looked quite cozy and cute, even after dark it was ridiculously expensive. My jaw dropped at the price of the absolute seediest cheap motel in town.

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I decided to call a hostel in Las Vegas and head into the city a little early. They asked if I was a student. I told them I was. They asked if I had a student ID. I said I did. Las Vegas isn’t really known for being the sort of place where people are very honest anyway. I’m not a very good liar. The guy behind the front desk asked me about my trip and I went on and on. Lies tend to lead to more lies – “So, how are you doing all this traveling while in school?””Online classes.””Oh, Cool. What are you planning on doing when you finish this trip?””Well, other than school, I have this little side graphic design/website business… it would be great to do it full-time.”

Obviously a converted old hotel, I checked into my room at the USA Hostel. I opened the door on three college girls from the U.K. spraying perfume and dry shampoo. They were trying on their fancy dresses and heels about to go out for some “posh” nightlife at one of those “posh” casinos. I asked if I could go along and I tried not to look like the hipster road bum I had become. We waited for forever for a cab, so long that we about gave up on going out. It finally showed up around 12:30 a.m.

Time doesn’t matter in Vegas. Read the rest of this entry →

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Santa Fe

Posted on April 29, 2013 by wesblueyes

I pulled around to the workshop behind a hotel for the maintenance man to help me fill my tires with air. The weather in the desert really takes a toll on tire pressure. He said, “You’re travelin’ by yourself? Go get yourself  a little somethin’ to eat in Roswell and fill up for gas. After you get through town there won’t be nothin’.” I didn’t think he literally meant “nothin'”. I thought there would certainly be a tree or two, maybe an abandoned building, maybe a lone gas station…. nope. There was nothing after Roswell for three hours. Not even a tree. I couldn’t pick up a radio station.

I drove and drove listening to the three CD’s I had in the car over and over again. I was so happy when I finally came to this little town where I could fill up for gas and grab a hamburger at a diner. I reached Santa Fe in the dark relieved that I was no longer on the road!

The Diner

The Diner

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Music and Austin Manor

Posted on April 6, 2013 by wesblueyes

I really miss Bill and Morgan, but especially Bill. After my first week in Austin, I drove out to the country to Couchsurf with Bill in Manor, TX (pronounced Mainer) I really didn’t know what to expect as I drove out of the city and across wide-open fields divided by barb-wire and giant rural electric towers. Bill said he had two Couchsurfers stay with him for over a year and I wouldn’t want to leave. I turned down one cracked country road to another, until I ended up on the dirt.

In a gravel drive I walk up among trees and weeds to what looks like a very tall mix between a house and a sculpture. I am greeted by a short, round man with white hair and I follow along the warped pavers. We enter an antique door into a formal dining room. Hanging on the walls and propped up on the floor are oil paintings, mostly nudes. Bill is quite the artist and gourmet chief. “Is this house historic?” I ask. “Oh, no I built it myself about fifteen years ago. I was going for 1890s.” “Oh, you seemed to achieved that well.” Yes, I was very throughout in keeping to the time period.” “Did you use reclaimed wood?” “Let me show you around.”

I walk upstairs to gaze out of the bathroom windows. Windows wrap around half of the bathroom. A claw-foot tub shines brightly as the sun streaks over it onto the wood floors. My room is up the third set of stairs. An air mattress has been set up in the middle of the room. Windows and unfinished art work surrounds me. I an eagle in a nest also known as the artist studio.

I spent two happy weeks walking around the 25 acre land co-op in Manor, cooking dinner with Bill and Morgan, a girl who lives in his guest house. Bill makes everything from scratch. I got to learn how to make pizza and Shrimp Diablo. It was so cozy, our family eating around the dining room table when Morgan came home from work. No wonder his guest don’t want to leave.

Cactis
Bills House
The Road
The Bathroom
The Artist Studio – My Room
The Neighbor’s House
Part of the Property
Shrimp Diablo

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The Good Kind of Grungy

Posted on March 7, 2013 by wesblueyes

2013-02-23_23-00-16_289Last week, I arrived in NOLA. Luckily because of the time change I arrived on time, instead of an hour late. I wandered up and down Frenchman Street, while waiting to catch up with my host. I read in a guide somewhere that the locals have their own style. For what I’ve seen it varies from hipster to turn of the century Carny. A friendly Tarot card reader let me know ahead of time about a fire show in the parking lot behind his table. Until the show I hung around Frenchmen Art Market, which had plenty of interesting wares. I spent most of my time at the booth of an independent filmmaker listening to stories about train hopping and the hobo life-style in the documentary Cure for the Crash. The fire show ended up being pretty amazing too.

Afterwards I walked to the Hi Ho Lounge, where my Couchsurfing host, Brody was planning to attend a  XXYYXX concert. The show was sold out and packed out! Luckily, with a mix of buying a ticket off a bystander and knowing the right people we were able to get in. Read the rest of this entry →

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The Start

Posted on February 8, 2013 by wesblueyes
Starting from the charming town of Thomasville, Georgia.

Starting from the charming town of Thomasville, Georgia.

Everyone at one time or another struggles to understand who they are, what they want to do and what they want to be. I still struggle with this. As a kid you know what you’re going to be when you grow-up or at least you know you’ll have it figured out by the time are a grown-up, which must be age 18.

For a time, I thought I wanted to be an advertising copywriter, and eventually a creative director. I religiously read the blog Makin’ Ads by Greg Christensen for years, watched my YouTube playlist of commercials, visited many agency websites and re-read It’s Not How Good You Are, It’s How Good You Want to Be by Paul Arden.  This led me to a solo train trip to Richmond, Virginia for an interview with the VCU Brandcenter.

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