Anthropology students are all inevitably subjected to a discussion on Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs; how we must meet our physiological needs in order to feel the need for safety, love and, ultimately, self-actualization. Four years at a university and I had always assumed that contentedness and freedom could only come when self-actualization was achieved. Four weeks on the road and I realize now that there is nothing more freeing and exhilarating than having no more pressing thoughts other than where to lay our heads at night, and how to prepare whatever food we'll eat. Americans are always [View Full Entry]

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The gurgling of rolling water, plops of mud and hiss of steam vents provide the soundtrack to our meanderings along the Mud Volcano Trail. After four days in Yellowstone we found ourselves getting caught up in the mad dash from sight to sight and today decided to scale it way back. It's funny how easily we slip back into the same bad habits we had prior to traveling whenever we stay in one place for a while. Too much activity and we start wishing for something stable. Too much consistency and we start dreaming of the open road. So today we [View Full Entry]

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It hadn't occurred to me until recently that traveling can be a very competitive endeavor. Well, strike that. "Tourist"-ing can be very competitive. Traveling is supposed to be an enriching, relaxing experience, not a cut-throat treasure hunt. And yet I see this behavior in many of our fellow campers and, as much as it shames me to say so, sometimes catch myself acting a little this way myself. The common campfire at which the rangers present nightly talks seem to be the boasting grounds of the days spoils, comparing sightings of osprey, elk and the ever elusive moose. Just for the [View Full Entry]

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It’s hard to know what to expect as we approach the northeast entrance to Yellowstone. We’ve seen countless photos, watched the PBS documentaries, and even read a bit about the history and wildlife in anticipation of this leg of our trip, but what is one supposed to make of one of the most, if not the most, famous National Park? Should we stare in awe out our windows at the river running through the Lamar valley, set out on the backcountry trails in search of the red fox, wolves and other predators, grumble in annoyance at the tourist bottlenecks that clog [View Full Entry]

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One thing became clear while we were in the Black Hills - we need a new car battery. After having it die once before in Ontario, and almost again in remote forests of the South Dakota, we made it a top priority to get one at our next opportunity. So, that opportunity arriving in Spearfish, SD, we were put a little off our intended schedule and had some ground to cover. What was originally going to be an overnight at Devil’s Tower turned into a day trip, and since neither of us are rock climbers, we both agree that’s all we [View Full Entry]

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Winding our way up the Peter Norbeck Scenic Highway, Andras is the first to spot the monument in the distance. With our windows rolled down, we let the comforting scent of pine drift on in our way. The Black Hills appeared suddenly out of the grasslands as increasing precipitation supported the growth of more biomass, now in the form of douglas fir and ponderosa pine. Andras says it smells like home in eastern Washington; I can’t confirm his perception, but it sure smells fresh. As we careen through pig-tail bridges and switchbacks we slowly make our way closer. The sculpture is [View Full Entry]

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A dramatic shift in the landscape from grassy plains to sharp, jagged spires which seem to rise out of nowhere announce our presence in the Badlands. With a name like 'the badlands' you would think of it as nothing more than a barren wasteland, but there is actually an abundance of flora and fauna if you keep your eyes peeled. The rains that came through last week caused the prickly-pear cacti to bloom and their yellow and red flowers dot the landscape, but now it's hot and dry. The previously muddy ground has now been baked by the sun and does [View Full Entry]

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There's not much we can say about the praire in south-western Minnesota, other than we're glad to be out of there. The wind battered fiercely against the car the hours as we drove west on I-90. As Andras fought to keep the wheels straight, I stared out the window at the endless fields of grain. It became apparent very quickly that we wouldn't make it all the way to the Badlands by nightfall thanks to the wind slowing us down, so we headed north to visit Walnut Grove, one of the residences of pioneer author Laura Ingalls Wilder. My sister [View Full Entry]

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After high-tailing it out of Wisconsin, we drove west another hour or so before reaching the Minnesota state line. For the first time on our trip the visitor station was open and staffed so, considering we had no plans and really no destination in mind, we stopped in for some guidance. It was the best decision we’ve made thus far. The blonde middle-aged woman behind the counter was courteously answering the routine questions posed to her by other travelers while we browsed through the informational handouts trying to get a feel for where we should head (interesting fact: the Minnesota [View Full Entry]

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In traditional elementary school style, we both decided to scribe hypothetical letters back to the state of Wisconsin after visiting, much like we were obligated to do after field-trips and guest speakers and such. Mine goes like this: Dear Wisconsin As the self-professed 'Dairy Capital of America' I was really looking forward to your acres of cow pasture, tasting your marvelous cheese and touring your beautiful farmland. Instead, all I got was rain, mosquitoes and overpriced public campgrounds. I am truely dissapointed. Sincerely, Stephanie Andras was a little more s [View Full Entry]

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