Originally Published August 17, 2017 in The Higgs Weldon
LEWIS AND CLARK SAY ‘WHAT UP’ FROM LA
Dearest Friends and Family and other peeps,
When we received tidings of a new colony, brimming with wonder and opportunity and gold, lots of gold, my comrade Meriwether Lewis and I sought to get stupid rich.
How very curious we were when some of Earth’s most accomplished trailblazers left raving reviews on TripAdvisor.
At the risk of sounding like a complete braggart, Lewis and I are pretty damn good at finding new frontiers. Actually, we’re the best. There’s no one better. So we grabbed ole Sacajawea and made her show us the way.
Simply put, The Oregon Trail was friggin’ child’s play compared to The Los Angeles Trail. We imagined heaven on earth, but friends, I write to you from within the pits of a 426 sq. ft. studio in Inglewood—this is no “City of Angles.” And in no way, shape or form were we prepared for the wrath of the natives—ha, look at me, getting ahead of myself! Let me begin with the trail itself.
Our covered wagon did not fair well on their main trail system. A semi plowed through the livestock on day one, so we were forced to huff it from there. Our passage was waylaid once again when Sacajawea successfully ditched us near the bosom of Palo Alto. And believe-you-me, Google Maps is no Shoshone Indian. We were in the throes of downtown Modesto before we knew what hit us. After a huge misunderstanding, four shots fired and a six-day manhunt, we had to go old school and print off MapQuest directions at the FedEx.
Fortunately, soon thereafter, we found solace at the mouth of a Motel 6. Where in which, the men and I commandeered a couple Segways. And I do declare, though kinda freaky at first, those two-wheeled demons are simply divine! PRO TIP: Do not attempt to cross a freshwater creek while holding your froyo.
After then making camp at the basin of a nearby Airbnb, we hitchhiked many furlongs until the Uber guy started trippin’ balls. (BTW, the value of beaver pelts is in the outhouse right now. They’d prefer to barter in plastic. Over gold nuggets! Or muskets, even! Yes, plastic is very popular in LA. Even people’s faces are made of it.)
Despite our plights, each day ushered in some of the most beautiful countryside we’d ever laid eyes on. It was hard to put into words. So Lewis was incessantly Instagramming it. The addiction had a real hold on him. And yet, hardships were often met by blessings, we………sorry, just checking my phone real quick, we came across a super chill colonel from Kentucky who made a treaty with the Mexicans and co-op’d an outpost called KFC/Taco Bell. It was the most fascinating combination of cuisines. We dined there for supper on many occasions. Very dope.
While forging down the coastline, it’s not hard to see that resources are bountiful. Oranges and Starbucks galore. Water, on the other hand, not so much. And almonds. The almonds were also lacking, because of the water. You get it. Nevertheless, they sure do like their almond milk. And their flax milk. And their quinoa milk. Oh, and their oat milk. Come to think of it, they just really really love milk.
Since our arrival to LA, every single day has been filled with tepid sunshine and shitstorm traffic. Oregon just doesn’t have the luxury of Global Warming like LA. When the brown sun hits your brow, and the mystery smog stings your eyes, you know you’re in a special place.
Probably the biggest adjustment has been living with the indigenous people. They can be quite unpleasant. I don’t mean to throw shade, but, to be honest, sometimes they are not on fleek. Not one bit. They regularly proclaim themselves #1, raising their finger to the sky and honking aggressively—zero chill.
All things considered, the expedition has been a fruitful one. I sincerely hope this correspondence reaches you and the families, and doesn’t go to your junk mail. And if you can afford to do so, please send loads of money. Or get a Kickstarter goin’, or something. Lewis and I could sure use the aid. The golden state is about to go bankrupt, or under the ocean.
#YOLO,
Lewis and Clark
P.S. If you happen to see Sacajawea, please let her know I’m sorry she’s a huge sellout!