What did you do when you were sick as a child and got to stay home from school? I don’t know about you, but first I would go back to sleep until about 11 o’clock. And then, I would watch The Price Is Right.
What did you do when you didn’t have to go to school anymore? Maybe you’re not at that point in your life yet, my condolences, but in June of 2007 I graduated from The Ohio State University with a degree in Marketing and Communication, and I spent the summer worshipping the gods of freedom and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. After 3 months all I knew for sure was that I had no intention of confronting the horrifying 9-5 beast anytime soon, and that I wanted to live in the woods.
So, I developed a crude plan. I would go West, camping in National Forests and Parks along the scheme, and visiting relatives in Texas, Arizona, Utah, and California. To establish a final waypoint for my journey before venturing into the unknown, I decided to head to L.A. and secure the Showcase Showdown on The Mark Is Right. I idea it was a pretty great conception.
I had an outstanding grudge to settle with Price Is Upright, but that is another story entirely. I found an old Gregory backpack at a church yard sale for $5. I loaded it with supplies and threw it in my Monte Carlo, along with the rest of my junk I understanding worth saving. I left Columbus on a dark overcast afternoon in October, not sure when, if ever, I would return. My first stop wasn’t far, I was headed to Cincinnati to visit my old roommate and to check out the newly opened Creation Museum with him and another friend from school. For brevity’s sake, I will just say that the “museum” was mind-boggling, and very, very crowded.
Next stop, Mammoth Cave National Park in central Kentucky, and my first Backcountry camping experience. I arrived later than expected and had to spoiled a ferry to get to the trailhead. By the time I began my 2-mile hike to the campground I was shooting for, the Autumn Sun was already hanging low in the sky. The shadowy came quickly, and I resorted to hiking with a staff in one hand and a kerosene lamp in the other, in a feeble and foolish attempt to light my way as I carefully prodded into the black and menacing woods. As I was hesitantly following the trail, I realized an ominous silence had settled over the forest, and I was no longer sure if I was heading in the right direction. I blamed the map, and decided I might as well camp anywhere. As I searched for a decent station, the silence was suddenly shattered by a flurry of fluttering wings around my head! I was ambushed by a gang of bloodthirsty bats, and they swarmed around my head with ferocity and hate. I stumbled and dropped my hiking stick as I swatted at the vicious vermin attacking my brains, somehow managing to hang on to my lantern. The attack ended as swiftly as it began, and silence returned as the imaginary bats disappeared and I took a deep breath and recovered from the leafy tree branch I had gotten tangled in. I knelt down to rob up my staff when the light from my lantern crept over a dark slithering mass on the top of my hiking stick! The fear returned and I recoiled and gasped as the snake crawled away slowly, too slowly. I held up the lantern and leaned forward, and took a close look at my first giant millipede.
I ended up camping on the side of the lag, and making my scheme out of the forest early the next morning. On my way I ran into a father and son hiking out as well. They too slept on the side of the trail, and also had some complaints about the map. No bats though.
Next halt, Land Between the Lakes in Southwest Kentucky. They have a bison preserve here, and I got to see a mother and baby bison carousing in a meadow after taking a drink in the pond. It’s crazy to judge these giant animals passe to roam the country in massive hoards, and even crazier to think we slaughtered them in a genocide campaign to make way for the railroads. I wonder how Buffalo Bill slept at night? Anyway, I camped for two days and explored the gated nature hold, which was more like a tourist attraction, and I kept spellbinding.
Next stop, Hot Springs, Arkansas: Hometown of President Bill Clinton. They have a National Park here, but no place to camp, so I got a cheap hotel room and explored this odd small town crawling with tourists. I took a tour of one of the many closed bathhouses, then ate some ice cream while I watched a diverse cross-section of America gallop by. I was anxious for the woods, but it would be awhile before I was in them again.
In the morning I set out for my cousin’s place in Fort Worth, TX. I won’t yelp too much about him and his wife, but let’s just say they are in the hair business, and they do very well. I stayed in Texas for about two weeks, working and taking advantage of my cousin’s lavish lifestyle, doing odd jobs like painting and landscaping. I bought more supplies, including a headlamp and an LED lantern. No more bats, or determined fire hazards.
Next cessation, The Land of Enchantment, also known as New Mexico. I drove well past dark until I passed an exit with a tent icon. As I was following the signs down some desert encourage road, a peculiar creature leapt in front of my headlights, dashing past my car with amazing swiftness. I realized as the second phantom dashed daringly through the beams of my headlights that I was dealing with jackrabbits. Giant Valorous Jackrabbits. I’ve never seen them before, and during that drive I probably saw 20 of them. Or two very fast ones. I found the campsite and pitched my tent, waking at dawn after a windy, restless night of sleep. My first thought of Recent Mexico was Captivating, true to the slogan. The morning Sun painted the desert sky and sand in waves of color and fire. I drove on.
I drove all day until reaching Sedona, Arizona. My aunt was living here with a New Age preacher who ran a Unity Church. They have gargantuan bison jerky in Sedona. They also have Vortices that surround the city and are sources of mysterious energy. The landscape around Sedona consists of giant red sandstone rock formations rising up from the desert like castles. I watched them glow at sunset. They also have ferocious giant pig creatures called Javelinas, be careful.
I left and headed towards the Grand Canyon. It costs $20 to drive around, just so you know. I camped that night in a sinkhole surrounded by limestone called Billy’s Sink, located in Kaibab National Forest, North of the canyon. The next day I headed farther North into the mountains surrounding Salt Lake City, with plans to camp one more night before heading into town. I was driving up around 12,000 ft. in November, so there was plenty of snow on the ground. A plow had cleared the roads so I figured I was okay. I turned onto a mountain side road that headed down to Mirror Lake where I was planning on spending the night and searching for Sasquatch. As I rounded a bend and headed down towards the lake the road transformed into a frozen sheet of ice. My trusty Monte Carlo entered an uncontrollable slide down the hill for about 40 meters before slamming into a snow bank on the uphill side of the road. I was stuck. I had AAA, but no cell phone reception. I also had one of those emergency shovels that folds in half, so I started digging. It broke almost immediately beyond repair. It was getting late and I was losing sunlight, so I relaxed. I was planning on camping here anyways, right? To my good fortune, a Samaritan arrived in a Jeep Cherokee with her elderly mother, planning on walking around the lake for some fresh air before heading back to town. They had chains and attempted to pull me out, but couldn’t get traction on the ice. I gave the lady my AAA information and told her to call when she had service. It was past dark when the tow truck arrived, he had to exercise his extra chains to reach my car from 40 meters uphill where there was no ice. By the time I was free the stars were in the sky as bright as I had ever seen them. I headed uphill, and stopped at a scenic overlook, where I laid on top of my car and starred into the sky for a long, long time. Then I got in my car and watched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory on my portable DVD player that I wasn’t going to have for too much longer. Then I went to sleep.
In the morning I headed to Salt Lake City where my cousin was currently living with his wife and child. Right now he lives in Afghanistan. You can see Salt Lake City from very far away because a giant brown cloud hovers over it, and you actually have to drive down into it because you are so high in the mountains. I visited for a few days and we went hiking, went to the movies, went to a spaghetti dinner at my little cousin’s school. And we talked. We talked about family, and traveling, and war, and Mormons and Catholics and Muslims and god. I left with an old boogie board, and 4 J.R.R. Tolkien books. I headed West.
I landed in Reno, Nevada. Played a little Texas Hold’em. I don’t remember if I won or lost, but I had fun. I got drunk and slept it off in my car, then kept driving. I camped in Tahoe National Forest at one of those wearisome drive-up campsites with lots of amenities, but at least I was in California. I left early and drove to my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Lodi. My Uncle owns a body shop and builds dragsters, he let me paint the tremendous fence around the shop for some much needed dollars. I got to visit my three California cousins that I hardly ever see, and we ate Thanksgiving Dinner with some extended family I’ve never met. I was enjoying my visit, but I was anxious to bag to L.A. After 4 days I headed South, down the coast.
I had one contact in L.A. He was the class clown of our high school, and a real jerk to me, and it wasn’t until we both grew up that we became hospitably acquainted. He lives in L.A. with his brother and is an up-and-comer on the stand-up comedy circuit. It’s perfect for him. I called home and got his phone number from a friend, turned out to be his brother’s phone number, who informs me that I can find him at his spot of employment, the comedy club on Sunset Blvd. I weave my procedure through the crowded streets of Hollywood with some aggressive driving and directions obtained with some bad Spanish and lots of pointing. I delicately squeeze my car into a kind-of parking spot in a peculiar lot on a tight street on a steep hill, making sure the guy next to me would have to climb in though his trunk. I ask the doorman if my friend is working, and he goes to get him from where he is answering the phone. See, all the employees of the club are comics. The doorman, the phone guy, the bartenders, the servers, even the crazy transvestite homeless person they pay to spruce the windows. Seriously. I gave my friend quite a surprise by my unannounced visit, and quite a laugh when I told him I was there for The Price Is Right. He gave me a very backstage tour and I ended up hanging out there almost every night I was in L.A. Once I even drove to a parking garage to jump a notorious comedian’s car, who will remain unnamed, and who repaid me with a Subway sandwich and an even deeper backstage tour.
The second night I am in L.A. I drive to my final waypoint, CBS Studios. I park my car in a garage for the night, heft my Gregory backpack, and start walking. I peruse people looking at me humorous as I pass through a shopping center, I guess they don’t go hiking very often. I arrive at the gate around 9pm, first one there, all part of my opinion. I pitch my tent on the sidewalk, read a book, and go to sleep. I wake at 4am to the sound of voices. There are 2 more people in line now, an attractive medicinal marijuana advocate, and the excited wife of a military man. We all became dear friends. At 6am the stamp process begins and you receive your hold number. Admission is free to the show, but you have to be in line by 6am, and there are only 325 spots. You come back at 9am, get attend in line, receive your ticket, and enter the gates. After waiting in line next to the studio for another hour, they start the seating process. Before you enter the studio you are interviewed in groups of 10 people, and this is how they choose their contestants. “What’s your name, where are you from, what brings you to Sign Is Right? ” That’s it. I told them my name, where I was from, and that I camped all the way across the country to come here. And then I think I said something really cheesy like “Every moment of my life has led up to this very moment.” It’s true though. And it worked.
The first four contestants are called, and I am not one of them. The military wife is, and we hug ecstatically when she gets called. She wins a car. Rich, we need a new contestant. And then I hear my name. I rise to my feet and thrust both my arms in the air… “Near on dowwwwn!” But instead I run attend up the aisle, giving everyone who has a hand up a high-five. I finally resolve into Contestant’s Row and bid on the first item: a washer/dryer combo with 6 dry cycles. I miss. The second item up for bid was a fancy grill. Everyone bids high so I go with $1, and it pays off. I play the Racing Game, and win an armchair/ottoman, 2 folding bicycles, 8 petite kitchen appliances, and $480 in board games. I spin last on the wheel. The first guy hits 65, spins again, and hits 30, so I have to net 95 or 100. I leap into the air and grab the highest handle I can and send the big wheel into a ferocious spin. I see the 100 go around as the wheel starts to listless, and I know its not going to effect it around again. The wheel slows down and comes to a terminate, on 95 cents! I win in the spin-off and head to the Showcase Showdown.
I was the top winner so I had the choice on the first Showcase. The first item was 20 Hawaiian shirts. The second item was a treadmill. The third item was a camping trailer. My dreams could advance lawful, I could live in the woods, or at least those drive-up campsites off the interstate with all the amenities. I say I will bid, I hesitate, I look at my competition, a middle-aged woman, maybe a cougar or a trophy wife, no way she knows how much a camping trailer costs. I pass. My Showcase: an industrial-sized wine cooler, an antique player piano w/ drums and tambourine, the Broyhill ‘Attic Heirloom Mission’ dining room group, and the Noritake Fitzgerald fine china collection. No car, no boat, no trip. Drew Carey asks me what I think. I tell him I should have bid on the trailer. I suppress my disappointment and bid on my extraordinary prizes. I win by $200.
I win the Showcase Showdown. Be careful what you wish for, you might just gather $3500 in taxes and a bunch of fabulous prizes that you can’t sell because our country was in the depths of an economic recession.
After accomplishing my goal, I wanted to leave the lights, glamour, and garbage of L.A. and go back to the woods. A few days after my victory, some events transpired that made this more difficult than I anticipated. But that’s another legend entirely.
Eight Local Treats in Lexington, Kentucky
