Since I’ve returned home from traveling, several people have asked me to identify my favorite highlight. The experience which had the biggest impact on me was my visit to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial Center in Atlanta, Georgia.

It happened by chance.

I was trying to get a good picture of the Atlanta skyline, so I parked my car at a gas station near a freeway overpass and took a photo.

Not exactly the shot I was looking for, but the photo does provide a nice view of Atlanta’s rush hour traffic.

A guy at the gas station told me there was a really good view of the city on the Northeast side of town, and he told me how to get there. So I drove across town and looked for a place to park my car. By way of happenstance, I parked my car in the Martin Luther King, Jr. National Historic Site parking lot. I walked a few hundred yards to a spot where I could see the skyline, and took a photo.

This is more like what I had in mind when I set out to take a photo of Atlanta’s skyline.

Having successfully photographed the Atlanta skyline, I went to the Memorial Center at the Martin Luther King, Jr. National Historic Site and spent some time checking out the exhibits.

It was a nice enough building, and there was a church attached to it. But there was nothing particularly awe-inspiring about the architecture and design. Inside the building, there were only a couple of small, simple exhibits.

I didn’t previously know much about Reverend King. I had of course seen clips of his “I Have a Dream” speech, and I knew that he was the leader of the Civil Rights Movement, but that was about the extent of my familiarity with his life. Oh, and I knew that he had studied Gandhi’s teachings on nonviolence.

As I was walking into the Memorial Center I didn’t know what to expect. But when I walked out two hours later, I was overwhelmed with emotion.

As I walked around the MLK Memorial Center, I read the quotes on the walls, watched video clips, and learned about the Civil Rights Movement. I discovered that Martin Luther King, Jr.’s teachings extended far beyond his dream of racial equality.

He taught about poverty and economic development, nonviolence and peace. He taught about faith and religion and social progress. His sermons and speeches emphasized proactive resistance rooted in love, rather than reactive demonstration rooted in violence.

Following are some photos and quotes from the exhibits.

King’s Bible.

King’s cufflinks and cologne.

In many ways Reverend King was ahead of his time. Much of what he said is as relevant today as it was forty to fifty years ago.

One of my favorite MLK quotes comes from a book of excerpts which I purchased at the gift shop. It is a statement about the relationship between science and religion, a topic that remains as important today as ever:

“Science investigates; religion interprets. Science gives man knowledge, which is power; religion gives man wisdom, which is control. Science deals mainly with facts; religion deals mainly with values. The two are not rivals. They are complimentary. Science keeps religion from sinking into the valley of crippling irrationalism and paralyzing obscurantism. Religion prevents science from falling into the marsh of obsolete materialism and moral nihilism.”

I was also deeply impacted by Reverend King’s teachings regarding nonviolence, which are strikingly similar to the philosophies of Mohandas Gandhi. On this topic, King said:

“One day we must come to see that peace is not merely a distant goal that we seek, but a means by which we arrive at that goal. We must pursue peaceful ends through peaceful means.”

Most surprisingly to me, when King spoke about economic development more than forty years ago, he understood the important role that population growth plays in causing poverty. He said:

“Most of the Western nations were relatively underpopulated when they surged forward economically, and they were greatly endowed with the iron ore and coal that were needed for launching industry. Most of the young governments of the world today have come into being without these advantages, and, above all, they confront staggering problems of overpopulation. There is no possible way for them to make it without aid and assistance.”

Martin Luther King, Jr. is a hero to me, not only because he helped to desegregate the south, but because he had a deep understanding of the most important problems facing the world. He consistently promoted economic development in the United States and the rest of the world. He was a champion of peace.

Across the street from the Memorial Center there were more points of interest.

This is Ebenezer Baptist Church, where King attended and preached throughout his life.

An Ethiopian priest stands in front of the the tomb of Martin Luther King, Jr., and Coretta Scott King.

Below I have included a video clip of the conclusion of MLK’s final speech, given just over forty years ago, on April 3rd, 1968, in Memphis, Tennessee. When King traveled to Memphis a few days earlier, his flight was delayed due to a bomb threat. It was one of many threats and attempts made against King’s life over the years.

In response to concerns over his safety, King gave the following speech. The next day he was assassinated.

I recently learned that Dona Spring, my friend and mentor, passed away in July. I was completely unprepared to receive the news, and I still haven’t completely come to terms with the loss.

I interviewed Dona in August 2006, to find out about her involvement in politics. She was an outspoken political activist, who fought for the rights of the disabled, the elderly and the poor, as well as being a champion of animal rights, environmental stewardship, and nonviolence. She served on the Berkeley City Council from 1992 until her death.

Dona was very popular with voters in her district, and after being elected she won every subsequent election by a strong margin. Her 2002 opponent, Robert Migdal, was quoted in the San Francisco Chronicle as saying, “Running against her was absurd. It was like running against Mother Teresa. She’s this tenants rights icon, a peace icon, a disability rights icon. I knew it was hopeless.”

When I met Dona Spring, she had a tremendous impact on me personally. I was impressed by her energy and determination, and I think some of her enthusiasm rubbed off on me. She fought relentlessly for the causes she believed in, and regularly passed legislation which benefitted minorities in her area.

When she was in her twenties, Dona developed a progressive immune system disorder which eventually restricted her to a motorized wheelchair. In July, she contracted pneumonia and died, at the age of 55, as a result of complications with her condition.

The news came as a shock to me. Dona was so full of life and energy and determination. Her health may have been fragile, but there was nothing else fragile about her.

My heart goes out to those in the Berkeley area and elsewhere who are mourning Dona’s passing.

A few weeks ago, after driving all over eastern North America, I returned to Colorado, by way of Texas.

The scenery was pretty consistent. Just grass, hills, bushes, some dirt, more grass, for about eight hundred miles, all the way from Austin, up through Dallas, and across the plains of Northern Texas.

But every evening, around nine o’clock, the plains would fill with colors.

During my last night on the road, I took some time to watch the clouds turn purple.

Off in the distance, some windmills went on working, while the waning sun cast warm colors on the clouds.

I looked down at my feet, and I realized I was surround by grasshoppers. So I grabbed one.

He struggled desperately to get away.

But eventually I got him to calm down and pose for a portrait.

I have to be honest about grasshoppers. They used to gross me out.

But I was cured of my grasshopper aversion while I was in Mississippi. In Mississippi, I picked up the most enormous grasshopper that I have ever seen!

Holy freaking gigantic grasshopper!

His antennae look like bamboo. I kept worrying that he was going to gnaw off the end of my finger with his enormous grasshopper mouth!

He probably started out as a normal grasshopper, until one day he crawled through some radioactive ooze, and mutated into what he is now:

A Teenage Mutant Ninja Grasshopper!

Examine this grasshopper closely and tell me if you notice anything particularly strange, or mutant-like…

Did you notice the large, fleshy pads on the bottom of his feet? Now tell me this, since when do grasshoppers have toes?!

A local told me that the mutant creature I was handling is commonly referred to as a “jack.” Jacks are a tropical grasshopper species which is non-native to the South. The jacks immigrated to the U.S., probably in a container ship or on a fruit boat, during the 20th century.

What an amazing bug!

You can see the individual sections of his mandibles and all the little hairs on his legs. Click on the photo to see a larger version.

Insects are amazing!

So that was the day I overcame my aversion to grasshoppers. And it was also the day I learned that grasshoppers have toes.

Compared to the grasshopper I saw in Mississippi, the grasshoppers in Northern Texas were harmless.

I let the little grasshopper go, and I stood and watched the clouds and the windmills, on a spot off the freeway in northern Texas.

I camped in my car that night.

The next day I cut across the northeastern corner of New Mexico, in all its glorious desolation, and reached Colorado’s southern end.

I stopped at the stateline, to see if I could get a free roadmap at the Colorado Welcome Center/Rest Area.

And then I got a welcome home present that I’ll never forget…

No. Freaking. Way.

Gas prices went so high that the gas station ran out of numbers.

They might as well just stick a number eight in there and turn it on its side, so it’s an infinity sign!

After the gas station, I went to the Colorado Welcome Center, where there were some war memorials.

There was a big memorial for World War II.

There were medium-sized memorials for the Vietnam War and the Korean War.

And there was a small memorial for the “GLOBAL WAR ON TERRORISM.”

I kept looking at the GLOBAL WAR ON TERRORISM Memorial and thinking there was something wrong with it.

Is the occupation of Iraq really part of the global war on terrorism?

I guess it is. I guess you could call it that.

I just didn’t realize that’s what people were actually calling it.

The war definitely started out as part of the Global War on Terrorism, but when the U.S failed to find weapons of mass destruction, the White House sort of re-labeled it as “The War Against Economic Failure in Iraq”.

So my question is, are we now in Iraq to fight terrorists, or are we there to secure Iraq’s economic future? Are we there for a military reason, or an economic reason? Maybe it’s both reasons.

I think some people would say we are creating a secure economic future for Iraq, which will reduce the threat of terrorism in the Middle East. It’s an Economic War on Terrorism. Under this logic, military occupation is, in fact, an economic tactic.

Yeah, I can see that. I get it. Military occupation may not be the most effective tactic for fighting an economic battle, but it is a tactic. The U.S. occupation of Iraq is a Military tactic, being used in the Economic War on Terrorism.

I’m convinced. There is nothing wrong with the Global War on Terrorism Memorial at the Colorado Welcome Center/Rest Area.

Maybe if they could just insert the word “ECONOMIC” in there…

Anyway, here’s my personal war memorial:

$4.399 per gallon, for Regular!

After driving around eastern North America for three-and-a-half months, I have arrived safely back in Denver, Colorado, where I will remain for several months.

The route I drove is plotted in blue on the map above. The red lines reflect my original planned route. Below is a map reflecting all of my travels within the Americas during the past two years.

You can click on the picture above to see a larger version. I have traveled extensively within the United States, and somewhat within Latin America.

I left Denver in a hurry at the beginning of April. Due to scheduling constraints, I didn’t really do any planning. Instead, I just threw a bunch of stuff into my car and took off.

By leaving so quickly I knew I would be forgetting some important things, and after I was on the road, I realized I didn’t have my iPod!! Three-and-a-half months on the road, and all I had to keep me company was a couple of scratched CDs I found in the car door’s side pocket. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise however, for two reasons.

For one thing, some thugs broke into my car outside of Philadelphia, and my iPod would surely have been stolen if I had taken it with me.

Secondly, I ended up driving in silence for large portions of my trip. This had the unexpected benefit of allowing me to spend large amounts of time in quiet contemplation. As a result, the past few months were a very introspective time for me. I stopped regularly while I was on the road to write contemplative notes in my notebooks.

After three-and-a-half months on the road, I was exhausted. When I got home, I was looking pretty rough.

But my room in even worse shape than I was!

That can hardly even be called a bedroom. It’s more of an enormous pile of boxes, computer cords, clothes and magazines. So I heated up some leftover pizza (compliments of my roommates), and got to work putting things away.

And then I saw him.

He was just sitting there, looking at me…

Oh no! In my haste to leave, I had forgotten to bring Ernesto, my faithful travel companion!!

Ernesto “the Bear” Guevara had been with me through it all. He was there when I rolled my 4Runner. He was there when I saw all those bears and glaciers in Alaska. He was even there for all those endless other adventures that I never got around to writing posts about.

Oh Ernesto, how could I forget you? You were supposed to be the face of MyAmericanJourney.com, and yet I left you sitting here on a box for three-and-a-half months while I traveled around eastern North America!

The original plan with Ernesto was for him to accumulate accessories while traveling with me. I didn’t even buy him so much as an “I Heart NY” t-shirt while I was traveling. How could I be so self-absorbed?

Ernesto didn’t really say anything about it though. He just sat there looking at me, with this sad expression on his face.

Oh come on, don’t give me that look. I’m sorry already! I’m soooorrrrrryyyyyy!!!

Another old friend was also waiting for me when I got home. He seemed pretty excited to see me.

My roommates’ dog, Lucky, was all smiles when I showed up. At least I think that’s a smile.

Lucky and I have a simple friendship. The relationship consists entirely of me throwing a tennis ball around the yard for him when I feel like it. As for Lucky, he always feels like it.

Here is how a typical interaction works between Lucky and me. First he brings a tennis ball over to me and sets it at my feet. Then he stares at me intently. Notice the intentness of his stare.

I typically ignore him for a few minutes before giving in. Then I pick up the ball and toss it towards him.

He watches the ball carefully while it’s in the air.

When it gets closer to his face he keeps his eye on the ball, while opening his mouth up really wide.

When Lucky really gets into his zone, he becomes Neo the Matrix-dog. The ball moves in slow motion, while Lucky moves with supernatural speed.

When the ball is in just the right position, he chomps down on it.

Chomp!

I have to say, it’s good to be back in Denver, my home away from home. The weirdest thing happened the day after I got back. I was standing out in the backyard, throwing the ball around for Lucky, and suddenly I experienced an overwhelming feeling of freedom.

Is that the weirdest thing, or what? Here I am out on the open road, free to go wherever I choose, and then I get back to my place in Denver with the disaster bedroom, and I feel this incredible sense of freedom. It was totally unexpected.

But then, being away from the luxuries of home makes you value things that you previously didn’t think about. I now have the freedom to take a shower and shave whenever I want. I’m free to do my laundry at any time. Free to sit down at my computer at any moment and work on writing about this crazy, unbelievable, overwhelming experience I’ve had during the past two years.

I have recently been visiting with family friends in Mississippi. A few days ago, I went with one of my friends on a swamp tour in Slidell, Louisiana.

The tour boat cruised through the swamp.

We saw several alligators. I’ve always thought of alligators as looking like the one above. This alligator is about five feet long.

We fed him hot dogs on the end of a stick.

Chomp! Ahh, he’s so cute!

I had not previously realized that alligators can also get really big. The alligator above is about ten feet long.

By way of coincidence, an alligator ripped off a teenager’s arm in Florida that night. It was all over the news.

The victim, Kasey Edwards, said the alligator stopped attacking him after he gouged it in the eyes. As he was swimming away he noticed he was missing his arm.

The alligator was reported to be 11 and a 1/2 feet long.

This is the 12-foot gator I saw during my swamp tour. Yes, that thing is definitely big enough to remove an arm.

Raaaauuugghhrrrr!!

You can see more photos from my recent travels on my Flickr page.