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Irish Road Bowling

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IRBIt’s no secret that the Irish have a mischievous sense of humor. In fact, that is how Irish Road Bowling began.

Imagine a few lads sitting around having a pint or two when all of a sudden one of them gets a wild hair up his arse, and the shenanigans begin. The next thing you know he and the boys are sneaking over to the British side of the battleground and stealing as many cannon balls as they can muster. Well, the only logical thing to do now is roll them back to your side. They’re heavy for crap sake, they’re cannon balls! Plus the boys probably had more than one or two pints to encourage the adventure. So, the guys, being guys, probably started getting a little competitive on the trip back home trying to see who can make it back in the least amount of throws…Thus Irish Road Bowling!

Travis McMahon and Matt Nitsch at the Ohio Irish Road Bowling Association are the hooligans responsible for bringing this fine sport to Ohio and should be recognized for their actions. I had the opportunity to visit with them, at one of their events in Deer Creek State Park, to learn more about this interesting game and something new about my heritage.

Travis and Matt have big plans for the sport with hopes of expansion throughout the state of Ohio including Columbus, Cleveland, Dayton and Cincinnati. This weekend they will be at the Cleveland Irish Cultural Festival to promote the sport and July 31 through August 2 they will be at the “largest three-day Irish Festival on the planet,” the Dublin Irish Festival in Dublin, Ohio located on the outskirts of Columbus. So if you can, come out and visit them and learn more about this family friendly fun sport.

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Wilderness Paradise

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It’s been one of those weeks. You know, the one when you go to sleep in a Tipi and wake up with bison (I swear it happens every time). Our journey through Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming began with a brisk 28 degree morning and snow. It seemed like the seasons changed with every mile as we progressed deeper and deeper into the massive caldera. Bison roam the plains with deer and elk while wolves and bear watch their prey from a distance. Geysers erupt, hot springs release their steam and mud pits boil. This is a mountain man’s wilderness paradise.

As we entered the snow covered park a bison greeted us from the side of the road, his head swayed from side to side rooting through the fresh snow as he looked for a tasty meal. It was a winter wonderland complete with snow covered pine and a semi-frozen lake. A ways down the road we decided to warm up with a hike through a trail of hot springs and mud pits. This is where a rather large brown bear explained to us we were going down the wrong path and advised us to try another. We graciously obliged enough to get out of his way; but stuck around long enough, with cameras ready, to see what was going to happen to a tourist lady who wanted to “commune with nature” and get a little too close to the beast for my liking. Probably didn’t help her friend much when I told her about Jedediah Strong Smith and what happened when he challenged “Old Ephraim,” he had to sew half of his own face back on.

I would recommend staying in the park for a few days just to get a taste of what this place has to offer. You could probably spend a lifetime exploring and never see it all. We went in the off-season and it was still busy despite sections of the park shutting down for the winter (such as information areas and campgrounds). I also wouldn’t recommend coming too late in the season because the roads are unpredictable and subject to closures for numerous reasons, especially construction. Old Faithful erupts every 45 to 120 minutes so find a good place to sit, where you’re not facing the sun for photography, and get comfortable. The most essential thing I can think to bring would be a good camera with a telephoto lens and the widest angle lens you can find.

Now I know why John Colter, the original mountain man, asked Lewis and Clark If they minded him staying behind and exploring the mountains a bit more. Words cannot describe the magnitude of the awe inspiring landscape. I can imagine myself in another life. I’m wearing a beaver cap, bundled up in a Hudson Bay capote over sweat stained buckskin with my long knife and hawk tucked tight in a belt sash. My rifle in hand, I am living as God intended in this wilderness paradise – Free!

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Mountain Man Walks on Moon in South Dakota

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From the moment I stepped into South Dakota – and almost onto a rattlesnake – I knew I was going to like this place. The landscape is surreal, rugged and unforgiving to the weary and rough.  I know, been there, done that! When I told the lady at the registration office in the Badlands I was not tent camping, just a tarp, she looked at me like I was crazy; then said, “I’ll bet you’ll be running for the car before morning,. You know we are supposed to get a bad thunderstorm tonight. It gets pretty windy and cold around here…better stake down real good!”  It did get a little chilly, no fire, but I did fine. I put my hammock up under a little tin shelter, battened-down the hatches of my tarp and away to dreamland I went. The fact that I had been sleeping in a car for two days also helped in the journey to sleep. If it stormed it at, it didn’t bother me.

The badlands are deceptive and captivating. From afar it appears as though it is stone, strong and firm but as you walk through it, it crumbles beneath your feet. It is the closest thing I could imagine to walking on the moon. It is nothing but switchbacks going up, and sliding coming back down. Tempting for a backpacking excursion, but not tempting enough to brave through a thunderstorm.

So we did what anyone would do in our situation, we found a dingy bar In a rundown town where a bow legged cowboy served us whiskey and crappy pizza.

The next day we planned on trekking up to the top of the Crazy Horse Monument in the Black Hills. The family that runs the monument allow this twice a year, but unfortunately for us, the weather prevented the adventure. So, we got a hotel room, had a good meal, some strong drink, watched a kid get stuck in the hotels water park tube that shot though the bar (odd) and got adequate enough sleep. I’m really digging the hammock, Warbonnet Blackbird XLC. Get you one, you won’t regret it!

I gotta say, the Black Hills are definitely an outdoorsman’s paradise. Large rocks protrude from the hills like teeth on a carnivorous beast ready to consume those who dare to venture in. There are rocks to climb, trails to hike, trees, and plenty of wildlife to harass. I did a typical tourist move today when we came across four mountain goats grazing on the side of the road. The mountain man inside me took over for a moment as I jumped out of the car on the side of the road, almost grabbing my tomahawk but taking the camera instead. I’m really not an idiot, and I know a mountain goat would whoop my ass any day, but GoPro cameras don’t zoom so you have to become the action, right? And, I’m one of those guys who would fight the Devil just because he’s the Devil. So, I get about five yards away, fully expecting the thing to charge me, and started to take some pictures. Well, it was more of an event for me then him. He popped his head up, looked at me, turned his back – dropped a deuce- and walked off, smug bastard! I should have brought my hawk after all.

Mt. Rushmore was cool too. It’s 11 bucks a car to get in (a bit much), but the Badlands were $15 so hey ‘Merica! It was cold and rainy. I could see the misery on the faces of the unsuspecting tourists. The experience is about what I expected, a huge sculpture in the middle of nowhere, man taming nature and permanently leaving our mark for future generations to be inspired by, cool! We decided to skip Crazy Horse, but still saw it from the side of the road, good enough. Now its off to Yellowstone in Wyoming to wrestle a grizzly bear like the mountain men of the past, wish him luck!

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Road Trip to Nowhere

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Well here I am cruising across highway 2 in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula listening to China Cat Sunflower by the Grateful Dead. The pinewood forest permeates the air, and I can see hints of orange and red as trees peek out of the morning fog from Lake Michigan. I know you are probably wondering what happened to the cross country, circumnavigation cycle trip…well, let’s just say that didn’t work out. I’m still waiting to see my proctologist to have the bicycle seat removed from my ass. Although, I do have a new respect for cycling and bicycle touring and will continue to pursue it as a hobby and for short expeditions, but it wasn’t what I wanted out of the experience. Though the scenery was great and I love camping, I just didn’t feel like I had the freedom to explore the world around me. I was too tired to do anything and felt rushed to get everything done. Now, don’t think I mind getting my hands dirty, but that was a bit much. And now, I am on a road trip to nowhere. After all, my website wouldn’t be called Plight to Freedom if there wasn’t much plight, right?

Now, maybe you’re wondering how are we traveling; planes, trains, automobiles, are we staying at hotels, campgrounds, rest areas, Walmart’s or guerrilla camping? Well, the answer is probably yes  to it all (we will see about the hotels or motels, tight budget). Last night, I slept in the back of Sean’s RAV 4 SUV curled up next to a Mancino pizza box while he slept in the front passenger seat at a rest area on the northern tip of the Mackinaw Bridge. The night before we stayed at a KOA and hammock camped, which is my preferred method of camping. Hammock camping that is,  not KOAs. They are nice and convenient, but it doesn’t feel like camping. So, I guess we are rubber tramping across the great USA, going wherever the wind blows us, searching for a new beginning.

With this new endeavor I will be able to focus more of my attention to filming the landscapes, wildlife, and attractions America has to offer and with luck meet and interview people with amazing stories to tell. One of the main goals to my quest has been to seek out a new beginning or a fresh start. I am looking for a place in the United States for my wife and I to relocate, so call it a scouting expedition. We have dreamed about starting our own off grid self-sufficient homestead and stepping out of the rat race, if you will, as we unfortunately realized we are humans not rats. Sorry, ain’t going to work for Maggie’s farm no more (Bob Dylan reference). Because of our goal of homesteading and off grid living, I would like to visit others who have already been there and done that so I can learn from them how to accomplish this goal. It also connects with my brother and my plan to start our own community-campground-learning-center-type-thing (it’s a long story for another day). Self-sufficiency is the path to freedom. Now all I need to do is find a place, start a business, buy land, and a million other things to comply with whatever and whomever I need so I can have the perception of true freedom. Easy right?! We shall see.

If you all have any suggestions on places to visit please let me know, and yes, Taos, New Mexico is on our list of destinations. Thanks for your support and I think I’m going to chow down on some cold pizza.

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Xenia

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9-9-14
47 Miles
72 Total Miles

I didn’t sleep that well last night, not used to the hard ground. The morning was foggy and misty, enough to make it difficult to see through my glasses. Industrial buildings would materialize out of the fog, like giant icebergs on the Atlantic.

Sean is not feeling well today. He is dehydrated and physically exhausted. We are making several stops to rest and re-hydrate. We are going heading to Xenia to get some food and hopefully find a place to crash.

Xenia, Ohio is odd. First, we made a wrong turn and started down the wrong trail. We wanted to be on trail one, which is the Ohio to Erie trail, but we ended up on trail four, which took us 3 Miles out of our ways to Jefferson-ville (or something). That is when a woman dressed in military fatigue stepped out of a cornfield in the middle of nowhere, smiling and waving, which seemed strange and took us be surprise. She was a major according to her insignia and was nice. A little farther down the trail, she noticed us looking perplexed, staring at a sign and wondering where we went wrong, and she was kind enough to give us directions to Cleveland, unfortunately we were headed towards Cincinnati.

Later, when we backtracked to Xenia, we unfortunately decided to rest at the train station. Why was that unfortunate, you might ask? Because some poor, twisted individual, decided to ride up to us on his bicycle wearing nothing but loose fitting shorts and what do you know, he completely exposed himself to us. It would have been a little better if he had not made it a point to show himself to us on purpose! Idiot! I looked twice because I couldn’t believe he did that.

Okay we escaped Xenia and decided to head further south for a place to stay. I tried to call a place called Frontier Campground, but nobody answered. We pushed on, hoping it would be there and be open. As we went down the trail, we started to notice that not every road crossing on this trail has a road sign, making it difficult to know where you actually are, especially with no cellphone signal. My hotspot is going into my easy grab bag. When I was finally starting to get irritated, a guy run up to us out of nowhere and gave us a heads up on a shortcut through the woods saving us Miles to get to the camp. It was there, but not easy to get through the pathway with two touring bikes and a B.O.B. Trailer. On the other side was a pond that reminded me of Camp Crystal from the Friday the 13th movies. We pushed on and up a hill to be disappointed at seeing by a trailer park and finally exhilarated at seeing a working campground. On the door was a Gadsden Flag, “Don’t tread on Me”, and an emergency number. I felt very good about this – a fellow rebel. I called the number, and a man came to answer our prayers. We had a site and warm showers! We decided to rest there a couple of nights to let our bodies adjust to being abused.

No Place to Camp

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Gear

Day: 1
Miles: 25
Total Miles: 25

We started out late today, my fault; I wanted to do one last run through on my gear. Did I have what I wanted, or did I have what I needed? Only Miles would tell. After picking up my food bag to load into my cart one final time, I instantly had a flashback to when I was back home on my scale, with no shoes on, weighing every bag, hoping I was under my load capacity limits. The food weighed 20 lbs! My God, that is insane! My eyes kept going to the cans, so much weight! I know there will be places along the road to restock, but I did it for my wife. I know she’s concerned that I wouldn’t eat enough so I took her grocery shopping with my brother to get our provisions. I noticed that she was very adamant on me having the proper foods and what not. All I wanted was Pop Tarts, peanut butter and Nutella.

The first night's camp.

The first night’s camp.

We made it 25 Miles today. Finding a camping spot is sketchy at best. We didn’t want to camp too close to a town, too many people. We like being the only strange people, that we know of, being camped out in the middle of nowhere. It was unfortunate I couldn’t find a spot suitable for a hammock and the places I did see were in people’s backyards. I’m not quite there – asking to sleep in a strangers backyard. Along the trail there are places for farmers to get their equipment between fields and that is where we found a little trail leading off into a field. It was just out of the way enough to set up a quick camp. No tent, no hammock, no fire. Just a ground cloth and a bivy bag, the way a modern mountain man would camp.