We hurried out of that dump, and pushed on through Arkansas. Given such a cursory glance, it seemed like a pretty odd place. There was farmland everywhere, but the crops weren't in straight lines, the rows were squiggly, I had never seen anything like it.  We could barely understand the waitress at the restaurant we stopped at. But she was as nice as could be, and we both had great meals, including chicken fried pork loin and BBQ brisket. As we left the waitress hollered, "Herbick!" After some clarification we realized that  "hurry back" is a slurred out common phrase in the area.... Don drove long after I gave up and fell asleep that night, and got us respectably deep into Texas. We couldn't wait to get to Austin...

       Maybe some members of PFG's Philly audience already know, Town Lake in Austin, TX is considered by many to be the premier carp venue in all of North America.  It was worth driving as far south as Austin, adding almost 1000 miles to our trip. Matt had planned to come cross country with us from the beginning, but his new job wouldn't give him the time off. He opted to take the time that he could, and fly to Austin to meet us. he got there early, and fished as we were driving though Tennessee and Arkansas. He met up with 2 members of the carp anglers group that we had chatted with previously online, Zach and Paul; very nice guys. They drove down from Dallas just to meet us. Here they are hauling big while don and I were in the car.

       Don and I arrived the next day in the early afternoon. Paul, Zach and Matt were already at the spot, waiting for us to bring some rabbit food and other carpy sundries.  I had hardly dropped my bag and Zach was handing me rigs and bait that were proven winners for him at Town Lake. We all fished together, until another CAG member and one time winner of the Austin Team Championship, Richard, visited, but did not have room to fish. Paul and Zach opted to fish with Richard at another spot for the rest of the day and that night. So for the rest of the day, we fished solo. We caught plenty of fish, including my best ever at 32.5 lbs. The last picture below is of us leaving the spot. we neglected to plan for all of Matt's gear fitting into my little Honda accord along with 2 weeks of gear for Donnie and I. We finally squeezed it all in there, even Matt's "hobo engineering style" rod tube.

       Our second day in Austin was intense. Not long after we arrived, we met a homeless guy, named Joe, who spent the rest of the day with us.  He was nice, meant well, but drank quite a bit.  By the end of the day he pretty much stopped making any sense, and had made us all uncomfortable in several ways. He really liked getting into our fish pictures, talking jive nonsense politics, and philosophizing. During the day we caught several nice fish, and I caught 2 turtles. We also met the red face duck, well known to local fishermen, and Carp anglers Group members. I had seen pictures of him before we ever even dreamed of going to town lake. When we finally left, we had to leave Joe there, passed out on the ground.

       Although it was difficult to leave Austin and the likely prospect of 40 lb carp we rolled out the next morning West through Texas into New Mexico. We drove all day and night, got a sleazy hotel, woke up and did it again. 

       We drove and drove across Arizona. At one point, we saw a wind storm in the distance. As we approached it a piece of debris on the roadside blew up into the air and danced around high above the cars like a plastic grocery bag in a Philadelphia alley. It swooped downward directly at us, and it became clear that it was a big heavy mud flap that must have broken off of a tractor trailer.  Of course, it smashed into my car as we coasted at 70 miles per hour, tearing of my side view mirror, and scaring the shit out of us.
       We arrived at the grand canyon pretty excited after a lot of driving. Obviously, it was amazing.  We explored a few vistas for about an hour or two and pushed on to Nevada.

       Hoover dam was a bit disappointing. Security vehicles made it impossible to get a glimpse down the gorge. The road across was still pretty interesting, It looked like a tiny city.  On the other side of the dam, casinos sidled the road even in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't long before we reached Las Vegas.  I had never gambled before this, never been in a casino, and something about the sagging faces on the people playing slots in the gas station made me feel weird.  I guess it was just that I knew I was about to blow fifty bucks on expensive liquor and lever pulling.
       It wasn't easy, but I coerced Don into staying at the Paris hotel.  We chugged a six pack of natural ice in our room and admired the view from the 27th floor.  Looking out that window, the beer and the lack of sleep enabled me to believe I was really important for about one second. 
       I had the same feeling later that night when a remarkably attractive  woman stared me up and down from across the bar.  I though," hmm, I'm obviously filthy, haggard looking with stains on my shirt,  sloppy drunk... oh right- Vegas has legal hookers." It was at that moment that I told Don that I was done and going to bed. We slept o the extent of late check out time, and bolted.

       We tried desperately to make it to the coast before sunset. Due to our precise schedule,  it was our only chance to see the sun go down on the ocean.  Getting really close it became clear that we drove about 45 minutes past a crucial turn. We missed the sunset.  It was sad, but camping next to the water was good enough.  In the morning we took some pictures, got breakfast, paid well over three dollars per gallon for gas, and drove.  The route up the coast was windy and slow, so after about 100 miles, we took it to the highway. The golden gate bridge was a milestone, but uninteresting. It's really just a dumb bridge.  It seemed so important to see it though, until the route it put us on ended up being a cruel 3 hour traffic jam.
       There are a lot of choice looking waters from mid California to Oregon. We didn't fish any of them. We had a date with the Snake River.

       The Columbia river is beautiful.  We saw springs shooting from canyon walls here and there as we followed it from Portland across most of Oregon, though the southeast tip of Washington State and into Idaho.  Our camp site was in Lewiston, ID which is across the river from Clarkston, WA. Around 1200 miles of our trip followed the Lewis and Clark trail.  The campsites were close to the water, but not close enough to fish next to our tent.  We caught some fish, including two species that were new to us, a mountain whitefish, and a blue sucker; no sturgeon though.

       The few small fish we caught and the stench of the nearby sewage treatment plant motivated us to leave a day earlier than planned. This gave us a time cushion that helped keep our spirits high for the next few days.
       As we rolled into Montana, It became clear what people mean when they talk about the difference between the streams there and the ones on the east coast.  We were even lucky enough to catch a few trout in one.  One of the rest stops we pulled up to has a nice trouty stream running right behind it. It really made our day.

       The following day was exciting and full of anticipation. We were due to arrive at Yellowstone and were all set with our fly rods, and all the right flies.  On our way in we even got some friendly tips from a local guide.  Before we set up camp or wetted any lines, we saw buffaloes, moose, deer and elk. without even trying. From what I understand the moose are more rare and seeing them was lucky. Too bad we weren't so lucky fishing. We didn't catch a single fish. Fly fishing can be really frustrating when it's windy. Back at the camp site there were some really nice people set up next to us that insisted on feeding us, and we all got drunk and laughed it up. The route we took out in the morning went right past Old Faithful. We didn't stay long enough to see the geyser erupt.

Wyoming is probably the most diverse state we crossed. It transitioned from cool Montana mountains to hot wild west desert in less than an hours drive. We made sure to buy substantial amount of fireworks after we ate breakfast in Cody.  Once again, we were racing the sun to get to Mount Rushmore before dusk.  Unlike the rush to the California coast, we made it in plenty of time.  It wasn't much better than the golden gate bridge though... Rushmore is a lot smaller than I had pictured.

   Another few hours and we were in Pierre South Dakota at a crappy hotel only minutes from the giant Lake Oahe.  Much of the next morning was spent scouting for a good campsite on the water.  The shoreline goes on forever, and it's littered with campgrounds.  Once we picked a site, we baited up the water, and it wasn't long before fish were splashing all over the place.  We caught carp after carp for a few hours. They were all small, but that only meant that we didn't stress too much over fishing. 

       After we caught our fill we cooked a great meal on the fire and enjoyed a few beers. It was one of the most fun days of the whole trip.  I don't really remember exactly how it came up, but we expressed mutual feelings of exhaustion over this whole expedition. We came to agree that the last stop planned on Lake Erie wasn't so necessary and we would rather get home with three full days left to rest before returning to work. It was really funny how we both felt this way but were afraid to say it until we were a little drunk. And even more funny was how relieved we both were after the discussion. The following day we packed up and left for the final drive. We both wanted to get home so badly, that we drove the almost 1600 miles straight through taking turns sleeping. It took just over 24 hours. We arrived in Philly two weeks after we left almost to the minute. It never felt so good to be home. 8200 miles, not bad.