The End.

Alas, our adventure has come to an end. The bus rolled into Starkville at 4pm Monday, running on waste oil. Having gone approximately 6,500 miles, well over half of which on waste oil, the bus performed like a champion. Days afterward, its still a strange state of shock that any of us feel when we think about what just happened. The things we've seen and done will stay with us for a lifetime, but for now it just seems surreal. On a less sappy note, the rest of this summer has been devoted to perfecting the filtration and collection systems that could stand to be a bit stronger, and no one has even mentioned getting rid of the bus. So, despite the title above, this is by no means the end.

Flat as Kansas...

Well, its come to that point in the journey where there isn't a whole lot to talk about that hasn't been said yet. Words like unbelievable, breathtaking, gorgeous; they still describe the skyline of the Great Plains around us, but everyone on the bus has decided that all good things must end. Our first stop this morning was Denver International Airport where, due to a range of reasons, the bus became three people lighter. Since Denver we have declared that our only stops will be for food, oil, and diesel. At this posting we are approximately eight-hundred miles from home, and we intend on closing that distance as quickly as possible. We are getting warm receptions from people we contact about waste oil, so hopefully our journey back will be a smooth one.

the landscape shifts

i keep trying to write this and i keep getting diverted by this view in front of my face. sometimes one has to pause mid-reach of the camera and retract the arm, saving some of that massive landscape to be drunk just in the moment. yesterday we made good time with no stops for veg oil, only to pick up a uhaul, and went on chooglin'. we pulled through the entire state of oregon and almost all the way through idaho in a day. like a band of modern-day hippies, we are squeezing the soul out of america, milking the land for free.

from portland, we went chooglin' alongside the columbia river gorge, on 84 east towards boise, idaho. as one choogles, the landscape shifts, the rocks get bigger or closer before retreating across the river and the cliffs to the south flatten out. we gradually peel away from the columbia river, entering a more arid landscape that climbs into the foothills of the blue mountains. i am having trouble containing this in words...the geography here is big.

we stopped once in idaho and that was last night to sleep at a rest area. it could have been around 3 am. most were already asleep and the windows were well condensated. when i stepped out onto the wet lawn to find the restroom, the air hung heavy with the smell of cattle. i presume the entire state smells like livestock.

this morning around 9.30 [mountain time now] ryder choogled up the bus before anybody could wake up and realize they had. with that the case, we stopped seven miles down at the lone gas station for the rest of 84 east in idaho. by the next town, we were in utah. snowville, 38 miles away. a brief stop in salt lake city has left the bus with one less passenger and one extra pillow. at the rate we hauled yesterday, the bus could be home in two days flat, but i hope the ride takes another week.

Slide guitar and alpacas...

The rolling hills and snow capped peaks of Utah are a stark contrast to the plush forests of Oregon. Through the night Idaho passed mostly unseen, but now to either side the mountains have us surrounded here in Salt Lake City. Leaving the damp climate of the Northwest seems to be helping the veggie oil system run a bit smoother. Early yesterday a few random pressure jumps and some very steep grades forced us to trust mostly in diesel, but by yesterday evening and almost exclusively today we have racked up almost three-hundred and fifty miles on veggie oil.
Today marks the second full week on the road, and spirits seem to be good, especially since the addition of our new trailer. The bus has slowly become our home and constant companion. Despite sore backs and necks and slightly damp towels there are no comments of longing for a real bed or a decent shower. Even on this last leg of the journey, I believe most of us have discovered that first learning to be on the bus took some getting used to, but leaving it might prove to be just as hard.

Who knew grey skys could be so beautiful...

Thursday, June 3rd, 5:45 PM
Columbia River George, OR

After a late night haul up the 101 from Redwood National Forrest, we found our RV park less than five miles from downtown Portland. Even with all the cities we've been through, Portland's culture seems to speak as loudly as any San Franciso corner. We started the day with an early lunch at a local brewery and walked the streets until dusk. Every pub, store, and coffee shop was as unique as views of the huge iron bridges linking both side of the city. After dark we found our way to the Crystal Ballroom, one of the Northwest's most celebrated music venues, to see the band MGMT.
Up bright and early, spirits high from the excitement of yesterday, we got another pleasant change when we rented a U-Haul trailer and are now traveling on a MUCH less crowded bus. A little bittersweet, we all seemed to realize in unison that we are now over the peak of this journey. Every mile we travel now takes us back closer to the Magnolia State. For now that path takes us through the Columbia River George, some of the most beautiful scenery we've come across, even if the sky is grey.

Whales/6,000 year old Trees

In writing this update, we have stopped on the side of the Oregon 101 to put our feet in the sand and investigate the mountainous rocks that break up the water. We have been skirting coastal towns, and cutting through the oregon forests for about an hour now. Leaving the state of California for its northerly neighbors. Yesterday we arrived into the Jedediah campgrounds around four in the afternoon, set up camp, went to the local Safeway (9 miles away) for dinner provisions and took an easy night amidst the majestic Redwoods. Disappointed from the lack of Bigfoot sightings, freshly laundered and showered, we headed out to run around in the primeval forests. We pulled over and climbed through ferns and traversed fallen trees to get to a river, in which the boys tested out the temperatures, Cole forgot his knapsack, and we met a ranger twice in order to turn the bus around and get back on the 101.
And that gets us back to present time, Oregon. Coastal Oregon, land of neverending trees, impressive bridges, mountains, misty beaches etc. Too much for this updater to describe, and be able to give it the praise it requires. Poetic and Romantic are two words that come to mind - you should see it for yourself. Trucking onward to Portland, hugged by ice blue waves on the left and tree consumed wilderness to the right, crossing toes and fingers that we spot a whale.