Nick Walks America

I now have a sumo-foot. But never fear, it's okay. This is no ordinary foot, this is a foot that has travelled continents, time zones, historic trails. it's stunk out entire eateries, caused me more grief than a herd of pre-menstrual woman, and has never quite grown to the same size as my other foot poor chat.

Apparently i have damaged my ligament/tendon, however with a bit of anti-inflammatory and some strapping I'm good to go. Im resting today in Kingman and will see what the story is tomorrow. Trust me if it gets any worse i will bloody well hop the rest of the way.

I've just managed to upload a load more photo's into the Arozona folder for your vewing pleasure. Unfortunately there aren't masses of reservation photos as i was trying to save my camera-phone battery for Monument valley, don't even get me started on that one. This old library computer doesn't like google maps so my map is a bit behind, but I'm in Seligman if you wanted to know....and it's hot....

One of the last things Candace said to me before leaving Durango was "At least a longboard is more romantic than a bicycle". If this is romance, then I'm in a pretty messed up relationship. It's been tough long days, and i have the cuts, bruises, sprains, ripped clothes and dents on my board to prove it. Balancing with a 30kg rucksack is near impossible on a board because the weight continually shifts. It didn't matter how tight I'd screwed everything on the board or how low i stood, if i did over 15mph the board would wobble and I'd eat gravel. Which i did a few times. Every day.

The Navajo Nation is a dangerous place, full of drunks, psycho's, backwards people who are best kept away from. That's the small-minded idiotic view of many people anyway and i wish i hadn't of listened to those numb-nuts, as my first hand experience is a great deal different. On the whole i found the Navajo to be welcoming, cheery and friendly. Yes i met a few drunks but they were so far gone and bemused by my longboard that they made great conversationalists. The rest of the world could learn a lot from the Navajo. They manage the best they can on the crappy land they were stuck with with little complaint. They have strong family ties, traditions and a sense of community which is hard to find anywhere else nowadays. Once i got over the being in a whole different country thing and the poor advice given to me before i entered the reservation, i felt a whole lot safer than in many other parts of the US I've been through. The Police weren't called because i walked past someones house, no-one tried to run me over or shout abuse at me or hassle me for change. I'm most annoyed because in Kayenta i tried to hitch a lift so i could make a detour to Monument Valley, somewhere I've been excited about going to since NYC. I've had over a dozen offers of lifts from locals in the reservation however the only people driving North from Kayenta were tourists. 4hrs trying and not one person stopped. To top it off, after angrily stomping back to the highway and sitting at the side of the road munching on a comfort king-size Snickers, a local Navajo woman stopped to offer me a ride West and gave me $5. God bless America indeed.

Anyway enough of the moaning. Apart from my newly found hatred for tourists(am i one though?!) i had a great time. There were more downhills than up which meant some days i was steaming along. The hard shoulder changed every few miles but generallyi could swap between the shoulder and the road when the traffic quietened. The only places to get supplies apart from Kayenta and Tuba City were small trading posts and I'm glad i took the longboard as there was no way i would have be mentally able to walk it. Most nights i slept under the stars as rock and sand do not go with tentpegs.

The problem now is that I'm right royally knackered and sore. I'm slightly worried that i have a slight ankle sprain in the same way I'm worried about the positioning of the letter 'D' in 'Wednesday'. I'm scared the cut under my knee i got from falling off my board is scarring into the shape of George Bush's face. These are indeed troubling times.

So I've reached Flagstaff. I now need a few private moments with my longboard before he's shipped back to atlanta and I'm back on foot. Then it's the final leg-550 miles to Los Angeles. Before that though I'm taking a bus tour to the Grande Canyon. I also tried hitching a detour there from Cameron but yep, you guessed it-tourists. My descriptive skills are limited to words like 'shiny', 'nice' and 'blimmin marvellous' so i will le the photo's do the talking once they're on the site. Also thank you to the American Legion for putting my mug on their homepage. Take a laugh at www.legion.org

Erm, I'm still in Durango. I had every intention on hitting the road today but it just didn't happen. I love this place, it has a relaxed, friendly bohemian fell about it and it's unlike any town I've been through. I could quite easy stay here if i had the time and money, alas neither are on my side. I'm glad I've had time to practice on my board, with the extra pack wait a few adjustments had to be made to stop speed wobble-not recommended unless you enjoy signing your name on the pavement with your own blood. I now have a patented air vent on my right trouser leg, all part of the fun. This may well be my last post until i reach(if i reach!) Flagstaff. Indian reservations aren't known for their great phone reception, neither are AT&T. So be safe, stay happy and I'll post as soon as, for tomorrow Nick is on wheels....

There has to be a balance in life; good-bad; hot-cold; beautiful-minging. This is also true of my coast to coast walk, I've just had it too good up to now. Pretty much everyone that has crossed the States has detoured around the Rockies, and for good reason. Personally the Rockies have been the highlight of my journey, and if i had to plan it all over again i wouldn't change a thing, this bit's for me. However if the Rockies are my Ying, then the upcoming Indian reservations are my Yang. Even during the planning stages i knew the reservations would be tough being in the desert wilderness for 4 days at a time. I'm prepared and ready.

Local knowledge has thrown up a major issue. The general concensus from locals, police and even Indians is that walking through the reservations alone for 300 miles would be very dangerous. A small minority of the local population are renowned for muggings, drink driving and taking pot shots at people. They don't tell you that on the interweb. Basically I need a faster means of travel, and there is no way I'm getting a bus or hitching. So I've decided on a compromise in true Nick 'challenge' Mof fashion and it's going to be fun, this is my adventure and i can do whatever i want. "A bicycle!" i hear you cry. No, that would be waaay too easy. I've got myself a skateboard, or longboard to be exact. After reaching Cortez it's going to be 'nickskatesamerica' for a while. You could almost write a book about this.

Today is Columbus Day. I bet when our chap Chris got drunk with his mates and decided to go on a good old fashioned booze-cruise he never expected to discover the New World. Of course by the time they got there they were all royally drunk and starving-hence greasy fast food was born.

I hope Skidmark is okay, because now i know the true meaning of cold. Cold isn't "ooh, it's a bit brassic outside, let's make a nice cuppa tea". Cold is waking up to find your tent is solid with ice, having a thin layer of frost on top of your sleeping bag, and finding your water and apples frozen solid. Due to my previous nights lack of sleep and a warm sleeping bag(and wearing all my clothes)i didn't feel a thing until i woke up. After defrosting my phones screen and realising I'd missed my alarm, the only thing i could do was de-camp quick and get moving before i froze to death.

Good route planning came into play and 3 miles down the road i knew a nice hot breakfast would be waiting for me at the Chimney Rock restaurant. By the time i finished stuffing my face i warmed up and started the 20 mile trek to Bayfield. It was no way 20 miles it went on forever, uphill-downhill, left-right, blah-blah I've obviously been spoilt in the mountains because i was really bored. To top it off i had to pay 15 bucks for a bit of grass because i couldn't camp in the park grr. The campsite owner said last night's low reached 23f which i think is around 'blimey charlie my balls have hibernated' degrees celcius, and I'm glad to say that tonight should be a much warmer 29f. Get the sweat rags out.

9pm on the dot last nights thunderstorm turned on me. For 6 hours my tent was battered by heavy winds and hail the size of small marbles. Fortunately my new Coleman Exponent tent laughed it off and i stayed warm and dry, if not a little chilly. By chilly i mean putting on every layer available, banging the frost off my tent before pulling it down and having to tip-toe back down the hillside through snow and ice. And to think i was sweating my gonads off a few weeks ago.

A quick finger dip in Pagosa's hot springs(it really was hot) and i made the uneventful trek to another campsite overlooking Chimney Rock. It's basically a big rock that looks like, well put it this way, from this angle that ain't no chimney.

I was miles from anywhere and the temperature quickly dropped so after setting up camp i lit a big campfire to keep warm and scare off any ghosts or wild animals, or so i thought. An hour had passed when suddenly a small cat-like creature appeared out of the darkness towards my left. Before you could say 'Bob's your Uncle' I'd jumped up, grabbed the cold end of a log out of the fire, skipped to the other side of the fire and awaited in Ninga pose for the imminent attack from mummy Cougar who i was sure was not far behind baby cat. If a Cougar did indeed jump at me from the shadows, i was pretty sure that I'd kick his ass and i would be proud of my quick reactions. However the small cat-like creature turned out to be your average domestic cat looking at me wandering why i was making such a prat out of myself.

I called him Skidmark. He was cold, hungry and very vocal, so after we had warmed up again by the fire i gave him my last Granola bar. Like a typical grumpy cat he took one bite then stuck his nose up at it. The only other food i had was apples and once Skidmark realised there was nothing to gain from being here he disappeared into the night again to scare some other weary traveller. It was an unusual night to say the least.

My stomach is not a happy chappy. There's only so much noodles, granola bars, apples and power bars you can eat before your body throws a tantrum. After reaching the very charming town of Pagosa Springs i decided to stay so that i would be close to mushrooms, i mean restrooms. I nearly caused a full scale evacuation of Subway, HAZMAT were almost called and a 2 mile perimeter set up. I was glad of the rest anyway and the weather's been rubbish all day. A huge forested hill looms over Pagosa so i decided to climb up to see the views, ease the nasal suffering of the locals and camp on the North ridge away from the wind. All evening big bad thunderstorms rushed through the valley powered on by my gaseous windage, dumping there load on the mountain range i crossed over yesterday. Throw in a load of lightning, and it was an awesome display from my hilltop lookout.

Lots of photo's have been added to the Colorado folder, no laughing out outfits, hair etc, I'm not on the catwalk you know....

It's been a big big day. Last night i camped 7 miles into the mountains, leaving me with 12 miles to the top and another 13 down the other side to East fork campsite before dark. I didn't get the best start, it's hard convincing myself to get out of my warm sleeping bag at 6am in freezing temperatures. My bladder finally won over and before i knew it i was stomping towards Wolf Creek Pass.

On the way up i had great pleasure in watching a Winnebago complete with pickup in tow get stuck trying to make a U-turn. If i can carry everything i need for 6 months on my back then they deserve everything coming. The rain held off apart from a few snowflakes, however the further up the mountain i went the colder and windier it became. I reached the summit just after midday and was greeted with views of snowy peaks and a big marker showing the Continental Divide.

Downhill was a different story. Much steeper hills crunched my bones and the wind had a habit of trying to blow me over the edge into the Canyon below. Fortunately the views were even more stunning than on the way up and my camera was working overtime. I barely made it to the campsite, my legs and bones were in agony. I just managed to pitch my tent before the rain started and the darkness fell, so the extra ly-in was worth it in the end. I couldn't be bothered to cook so sat in my warm tent planning the next few days route and writing this waffle. It's been an absolutely tremendous day. I have to say that being at the campsite on my own with no phone reception made me feel a little lonely for the first time in a long while. I might go into the woods and go find me a bear to talk to.

A few miles out of Del Norte and I reached the 2,000 mile mark. I still haven't got that curry i popped out for. In around 51 days and 1,000 miles I'll be at the Pacific Ocean wandering what the hell just happened.

For the next couple days I'll be conquering my last major mountain range via Wolf Creek Pass. High winds and freezing temperatures are the talk from the locals so this may be my last post, again. 16 miles out of Del Norte i reached South Fork, and spent a couple hours stocking up on food and making sure i knew exactly where my campsites were going to be, just in case a blizzard hit or i managed to poke myself in both eyes.

I still haven't grasped the American accent even though I'm a yankee myself. When i ask for the restrooms people think I'm asking for mushrooms. They must be popular around here.

I'm now in the San Luis Valley, an immense flatland surrounded by mountains. Although it's been clear blue skies, I'm currently at around 8,000ft and wearing winter gear which is doing nothing for my suntan. Other than the small town of Segauche and a gas station there's nothing here but farmland, producing all the goodies for Coors beer. The weekend weather report is for severe British weather, right when I'm going to be trekking over my lat mountain range. Snowball fights, snowmen, snow-angels(if no-ones looking), yellow snow, it could be a fun weekend ahead.

Sorry about the lack of photo's at the moment. AT&T are so set on world domination that they've forgot about their original customers back home and I've had no reception to send any photo's for a few days. As soon as I've strangled someone I'll get some mountain pics on here.

I was up at the of freezing. Happy the bears hadn't munched my food hanging from the tree, i packed and set off for Hayden Pass. 3 hours, 6 miles and 3,800ft climb later i was sat atop the Continental Divide. After a quick pee, i contemplated the fact that half my pee would end up 1,000 miles in the Pacific, and the other half would end up 2,000 miles in the Atlantic. It was a tough old climb though, what got me most was the lack of oxygen however stopping every 10 minutes is compulsory to wow at the views so it wasn't too big a deal. Unfortunately there were no views at the top, only trees and a very jolly family who took the clever decision to drive their 4x4 up the mountain. The views going down the other side were also spectacular. I could see the upcoming San Lois Valley all the way to the mountains 60 miles away, all i had to do now was walk it.

After a bite to eat in Villa Grove i found a campsite 3 miles down the road where i could finally shower after 7 days of walking. One other guy was at the site, and he turned out to be the most amazing person I've ever had the pleasure to meet. John lives in a converted van and spends days at a time in the mountains living off the land and creeping up on bears and big cats. After kindly making me some yummy beans and meat we chatted for hours about his life story. He's half Irish/Indian; toured Vietnam 3 times(and was shot twice); owned a Ranch then gave it away to a needy family leaving only with his horse and what he could carry; gave Robert Redford riding lessons for the film 'The Horse Whisperer'; makes knives and Tomahawks and was once the World Champion axe thrower; played an Indian in the film 'Jeremiah Johnson' and ranched cattle all over the Western United States. That's just to start, you could write a few books on this guy. He took the time to go through my route with me and has given me lots to chew over, he was an absolutely amazing guy and i was honoured to meet him. I didn't get to bed until 1am but it was well worth it spending the evening with John.

Frickin' amazing. That's the only way i can describe where i am, following the Arkansas River through the Bighorn Sheep Canon. Few cars, no people and awesome views. A few weeks back some killjoy commented that I'd be stupid going into the mountains this time of year. Now to me that sounds like a challenge, and whilst in the Cotopaxi Store i found my mountain. A big map on the wall showed a trail not on my map or GPS. It cuts straight over the mountain range I'm currently taking the girly route around, and would knock at least a day off my walk. Sold.

To get to my mountain required an extra trek past my original campsite to Hayden Creek a few miles uphill. After a 26 mile day and a 1,400ft ascent i was there, albeit a bit colder, wetter and pretty darn tired.

It's been a pretty average day. Apart from walking across the worlds highest suspension bridge, riding on the worlds longest single-span aerial tram, riding down the worlds steepest incline railway and purchasing the worlds most expensive crap coffee it's been pretty quiet. I arrived at the Gorge early to gain cheap entry and see the sights before all the fanny-bags and screaming kids arrived. The Gorge is immense and photo's just don't do it justice. I could have sat there staring and catching flies all day but i had some walking to do. The down point of seeing the Gorge was that it took me nearly an hour to recalculate my journey to Salida so that i still had places to camp and pick up supplies. However my ickle brain did me proud and off i skipped to my new campsite-Five Points State Campground. The site was right by the river. I lit a big badboy campfire and stared in awe at the light reflecting off the montainside and the bright stars above. Of course the trouble with a campfire is you can't see the ghosts and goolies creeping up behind you and some of the strange noises emanating from the darkness were cause for me to keep my torch at hand. What was that?!

It doesn't seem to matter how hard i push myself, the next day I'm always ready for a good stomp. The are between Penrose and Canon City is a mecca for prisons-State, Federal, Juvenile, death row prisons to name a few. There's even an old 19th century prison in the centre of Canon City. Canon City itself is fantastic. Once you get past the obligatory skanky strip mall, there's all sorts of fun to be had; quirky shops, nice people, interesting museums, all set under the backdrop of the red cliffs looming above. After a lovely chat with the lady in the tourist info office, I've decided to take a detour tomorrow to the Royal Gorge. Apparently it's gorgeous haha.

My afternoon was spent hiking up an 8 mile hill ascending ,000ft. In a flash of genius the locals named it 8 mile hill-brilliant. Personally i would call it 8 and a bit mile hill but that would just be pedantic. The bonus point of the day was that i was able to camp in a free camping spot complete with a covered seating area only a mile from the Gorge. The site itself is sat at the top of a big hill with 360 degree views. With no-one else stupid enough to camp this time of year i had the campsite, views and silence all to myself. For the first time i hung my food up a tree, Yogi ain't eatin' my grub.