UnderAgedRVers

Post Script

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Thu, 29 Sep 2005 16:56:00 +0000

Follow Rachel's latest travels at www.ThisEndUp1.com

New York Times Article, Nov. 27, 2005 Click Here to read.

The view from our new home.

Alright one last note.
I am thrilled to report that Dan and I have fully assimilated to our new surroundings and more traditional lifestyle. We have successfully completed re-entry. For a while there we were worried about burning up, but the warning lights and buzzers seem to have been greatly exaggerated.

I lasted all of two weeks at my first job. Truth be told, after the first two hours I knew it was a bad fit. But once again the stars were aligned and through a chance meeting I secured an interview for a not-yet-listed job opening with Aspen Skiing Company and got hired on the spot. Somehow I have dumb-lucked my way into my perfect job. One that blends the things I already know how to do, with the chance to continue learning and gain real life experience in the field of marketing, (which is what my degree is in). And it is for a skiing company!

Dan is busy saving lives. He has had to adjust to adding “what illegal drugs have you taken today and is there any silicone in your body that I should know about”, to his laundry list of pre-treatment questions, but otherwise it was like riding a bicycle, everything just came back to him. He has been offered a job on Aspen Highlands ski patrol, which he is very excited about. Highlands’ is a prestigious patrol and he’ll get to throw bombs, in the name of avalanche mitigation, which is every man’s dream now isn’t it.

With much assistance from our friends we have secured housing. While the home is not much to speak of, the views would make it worthwhile even if there were only an outhouse and fire pit for creature comforts. Every weekend has found us biking and hiking in the beautiful forest lands around here. We hiked from Aspen to Crested Butte for lunch one day, an 11 mile hike with a 90 mile car ride back to the starting point. Most recently we have been hiking to see the fall foliage which is like watching a wave of fire sway across the sky. Flaming yellows, oranges and reds, intermixed with bright green, the stark grays of granite and the white of freshly fallen snow. If you have never visited Colorado in the fall, what’s keeping you?

The Maroon Belles, along the trail to Crested Butte.

Our lives here are so full that I really don’t miss traveling. I walk past the camper everyday and wave at it like you would an old friend. Sometimes I do miss the compactness of it, like when I have to get out of bed to brush my teeth, or start the coffee maker, but mostly it is just a great reminder of how lucky I am, and how I need to never forget it.

The crest between Aspen and Crested Butte.

I really have become a happier, more confident and, I think, better person because of this trip. If possible I adore my husband even more than when we left, and I have managed to fold the sense of adventure that came with being in a new place everyday, into being in the same place, (albeit still a new place to me). I have been taking lots of photos, it is easy to be inspired with the views we have and on the route I drive to work each morning. Dan has been busy keeping off the weight he lost when he was ill by riding long bike trails and hiking every chance he gets. I am channeling my inner Italian mother, force feeding him every fattening thing I can find. (In my mind a man who is 6’2” tall should not weigh 155lbs!)

Avalanche chute along Avalanche Creek, outside of Redstone, Colorado.

I truly appreciate all of the emails I have received asking us to continue the blog, but I just think it has reached a nice, tidy, ending point. If anything that really pertains to it pops up I may put some quick snippets on here, but otherwise I thank you all for a fantastic ride and wish that each of you will enjoy a journey of your own, sooner rather than later. I hope that you will continue to fill us in on your lives, so many of you have become our friends and mentors along the way, and it brings a smile to my face when I know that we helped someone plan their trip, or inspired someone to follow a similar path.
Again thank you.

El Fin

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Thu, 11 Aug 2005 14:45:00 +0000

“It’s true; life really is generous to those who pursue their Personal Legend, the boy thought. Then he remembered that he had to get to Tarifa so he could give one-tenth of his treasure to the Gypsy woman as he had promised. “Those Gypsies are really smart”, he thought. Maybe it was because they moved around so much.”
The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho

If you asked what was the biggest err we made during this trip I would have to say it was our lack of an exit plan. We honestly believed that somewhere along the way we would have a great epiphany. “Aha!…this is the place, and what? You want to give us high paying fulfilling and infrequent employment. Well alrighty then.”

Except that isn’t what happened. Instead we spent the last month foundering. Even without the unfortunate events that we have been bombarded with, we would have been lost during this time. Most people seem to assume this is because we never want the trip to end, but really that isn’t it. You see Dan and I are task/goal oriented people; we set out to travel for a year and we did it! Now it is time to move on to the next adventure and we are both eager to get that started. The problem really stems from our lack of decisiveness. Somehow over the last year we have developed a serious case of co-dependency, so much so that if we cannot both reach the same conclusion at the same point, then we are rendered powerless to make any decisions.

However, I am happy to report that even with this disorder and the drama that has distracted us oh these past few weeks, we have made our decisions and we are ending our trip on a high note. Next week we are moving to Ahhhspen. Now I realize that since virtually no one voted for Ahhhspen in our on-line poll, this may come as a small surprise. But, here’s what we learned this past year and what led us to the Roaring Fork Valley.

We needed to find a town that allowed us to balance career and recreation. Aspen is surrounded by world class skiing, mountain biking, fly fishing, hiking, rafting, kayaking etc… And unlike some smaller towns Aspen has a booming economy and a veritable plethora of career options. Dan walked right into a job on the ambulance (he is, after all, the golden child, they hadn’t hired a paramedic in over five years and the very day someone quits he knocks on the ambulance bay door), and I got hired in the marketing department at The Ritz Carlton. We have secured housing and, save for my need to procure a car in the next week, we are right back into a “normal lifestyle”.

Among the harsh realities of re-entry is learning to embrace debt once again. Remember how I told you all early on that we are not independently wealthy? Well that is really crimping our style right now. We did plan enough to have not touched our savings account during this year, and we budgeted for a month or two extra in order to get re-established. But no matter, we are going to have to buy a car and soon a home.

What amuses me about this is that we lived a hedonistic, adventurous, dream lifestyle for an entire year, total cost approximately $20,000. In order to live in Aspen, drive a car and buy a one-bedroom condo the cost is approximately $30,000 a year, and that is just for the car and condo, add food, clothing, commuting etc. and we could travel for at least another two years!!! The American Dream is EXPENSIVE!

But I digress and we aren’t done RV-ing just yet. Our house in Aspen won’t be available until September 1, so for the next two weeks we will be living in our RV. Don’t you just love the visual of me exiting the camper in my business suit to go to my job at the Ritz? You can take the girl out of the trailer park but you can’t take the trailer park out of the girl.

Time to reflect:
What a gift this blog has been, I can read back through this site for years to come and be reminded of how truly fortunate I am. I just got to spend an entire year with my best friend, experiencing some of the world’s most beautiful places. I pushed personal boundaries almost daily, allowing me to grow more confident and I hope more interesting. I learned first hand about geography, history, biology and culture. My belief that people are inherently good and generous was re-affirmed day after day. I had the opportunity to renew friendships and to spend quality time with my most cherished friends. Because of our trip, friends of ours and my parents got to see parts of Mexico that they had never been exposed to before, and I got to speak another language every day for three months.

And maybe, just maybe we have inspired someone we don’t even know to do what we did. I swear it is easy once you set your mind to it, I am hard pressed to think of anything that wcould ever be so rewarding and educational. Quit your jobs, rent out your houses and buy an RV, do it NOW, not when you are old enough to wish you’d done it before. Spend a year getting to know your mate and yourself. Leave the TV at home and read every book you always said you would. Ride your bike, hike or just stop the car and appreciate everything from the engineering feats that create roads like Beartooth and Red Mountain passes, to the smallest creature along the your path. Emerge from your trip embracing the kinder, gentler and more gracious person you’ve become. Know that whenever normal life gets you down you have something extraordinary to reflect upon and to make you smile. Take the time to make yourself better by allowing yourself to be different. You too can be an Under Aged RVer, even at 75, it is a state of mind, more than an age range. And when you do hit the road, create a blog and tell us all about it, you’ll be amazed how rewarding it will be.

Que les vaya bien.
Dan and Rachel Goddard

p.s. For Sale: 2000 Lance 810 Light Camper, slightly used ;)
p.p.s. We were interviewed by the New York Times the other day, when I know a publication date I will post it on here.

A Hitch in the Giddy Up

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Thu, 04 Aug 2005 23:21:00 +0000

This is not quite the end...

Just when we thought things were going to settle down, life throws us another curve ball. Dan returned last week from his whirlwind tour of Thailand. His sister is doing really well and we are very relieved that she is safe and healing. Dan on the other hand seems to have brought home a nasty virus, most likely Dengue Fever. Dengue is also known as Broken Bone Fever, since the accompanying joint and bone pain is excruciating. After eight hours in the ER and a follow up visit with an Infectious Disease Specialist, we now know that whatever it is, it will just have to run its course and all we can do is keep him doped up and comfortable. I really wanted to post a picture of him administering his own IV of saline, but he refused to let me photograph him.

In the midst of all of this chaos we have made a few decisions. We have both found employment in Aspen and will be moving there over the next couple of weeks. That is assuming Dan can stand up by then.

Our trip has come to an end in a rough and abrupt manner. While I have not had the time to reflect that I had wanted I can’t just simply say goodbye to you all or to this site. So instead I will simply say Que les vaya bien. And I will do my best to finish this blog with a follow-up in a few weeks, letting you all know where exactly we have landed and more about what we have learned.

Que les vaya bien = [may you] travel well.

Never a Dull Moment

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Sat, 23 Jul 2005 16:43:00 +0000

On our way back to Durango we hit a few detours. The first was in Chicago. Now if you draw a straight line from Cincinnati to Durango you do not go through Chicago so this was an unplanned detour. We were just outside of Indianapolis when Dan’s mom called to inform him that he may need to go to Thailand. Dan’s sister, Tracy, had had a bad accident in her home there and needs his help to come back here for further treatment.

On this occasion I am reminded how proud I am of my husband's chosen profession, he is a paramedic. The doctors in Thailand only agreed to release Tracy to him because he is a medic and can care for her on the return flights. One problem however… Dan’s passport expired on June 20th. Public Service Announcement: NEVER let your passport expire. Many calls to the State Department, US Embassy in Thailand, an entire day in the Chicago Federal Building and Dan has a new passport.

Special thanks to Marc and Heather, our friends who put us up on three-hours notice and held our hands through the trains and throngs to get us to the right office. To our other loved ones in the Windy City, please accept our most humble apologies for not seeing you too, but I know you’ll forgive us given the circumstances.

Once that task had been handled we entered a “hurry up and wait” phase. Hurry to get into Colorado so that if Dan had to fly out I’d have a place to stay, and wait because we didn’t know when or if he’d be going. By Monday we still didn’t know so we detoured to Aspen for some job interviews. Tuesday at noon we got the call and raced to Durango, one more hectic preparation day and he was off. This morning he left for the 26-hour flight to Bangkok where he will meet his sister in the International Hospital there, help her settle some details and lovingly return her to her family, where she can heal and recover. Thailand is her home however, so she won’t be here for too long I don’t imagine.

I am resting in the veritable lap of luxury that is our friends’ Bob and Sherry’s house. You may remember them from the “Mexican Prank Wars of December 2004”. Bob is a dentist and he and Sherry are off charitably donating their time to help those in need of dentistry in Peru, before hiking the Inca trail and otherwise touring the country. While they are gone we are house sitting and watching after their oh-so-lovable dog Mailo, who is my protector while Dan is away.

It would be repetitive to gush yet again about how amazingly generous everyone is to us, so instead I will just say thank you.

Assuming all goes smoothly for Dan and his sister, he and I should be moving to a new house and beginning new jobs (thus ending this chapter), by August 1st.

Beginning of the End.

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 13 Jul 2005 23:52:00 +0000

The beginnings of a plan are starting to take hold. After two weeks in Ohio, we are ready to hit the road again. And where are we heading, you might be asking?? Well it isn’t very original but, we are off for Colorado. Seems home for us lies in the Rocky Mountains and no matter how we try and rationalize it, we love Colorado more than the opportunities that a new place might present. Tomorrow morning we hit the interstate for the 30-hour drive west.

We will be traveling for the remainder of July, then the trip money really has run out and we must settle back into a more conventional lifestyle, for at least a little while. For me this isn’t a sad time, a bit crazy and unsure, but not sad. We have always been very task oriented. We set out to travel for a year and accomplished that goal. What an amazing year it has been. So instead of being sad, this is a celebratory time and I intend to keep that theme throughout my last remaining posts.

Over the course of the next few weeks, it is my intention to reflect upon our trip, perhaps list some mistakes, some triumphs and even a few humorous antidotes that will help to close this chapter and perhaps help one of you begin your own. Who knows, maybe we still have one or two more adventures left to enjoy before we find our new home.

Let me take this opportunity to start thanking those who have helped us along the way, beginning with all of you who read this site. It seems that I failed miserably at being unemployed, so I created a job for myself along the way. Maintaining this site has been so much fun for me. I thank all of you for keeping me motivated and helping to create this lasting record of our journey.

The generosity shown to us by strangers whose acquaintance we made only through emails, has been overwhelming. Over forty people emailed us with offers of free lodging, meals or Pabst Blue Ribbon. Many offered advice, solicited or not, but always read and considered. Some of you taught us things we really needed to know, like how to go clamming, how to repair our fridge, batteries, and heater, where to camp and where to avoid. You even helped us decided where to move.

And in the tradition of Bud Light commercials… We salute you, faceless travel blog reader. You aren’t afraid to correct our spelling and historical errors. You freely offer advice and are willing to wait days or weeks for a reply email. You click the ads and you, faceless blog reader, have helped us to stay on the road and realize our dream. Thank you.

Back Home in the 'Nati

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 06 Jul 2005 21:05:00 +0000

Dan and I near Tupper Lake, New York. Our Neighbors that night, Paul and Kathy, took this photo and emailed it to us.

Clouds at Tupper Lake

Last Tuesday we entered Ohio, my home state. Our first night was spent in Geneva on the Lake State Park, where we watched a gorgeous sunset and took a nice dip in Lake Erie. Unbeknownst to me then, 55 years prior my grandparents had come to the same place for a few days on their way to Niagra where the spent their honeymoon. Wednesday we arrived in Cleveland to visit my grandmother. Gram, Dan, myself and my cousin Jamie had a fabulous visit. Visiting my older relatives like Aunt Kitty and Gram make me wonder how many more times I’ll get to enjoy their company. This though makes me a bit melancholy, and reminds me to call, write and visit more often.

Me, My Gram and cousin Jamie.

Before we got to Ohio we visited Niagra Falls.

The Canadian side of Niagra Falls- also known as Horseshoe Falls.

Niagra Falls

Niagra Power Plant.

Association Island Campground Sunset.

In a thinly veiled attempt to trap us in Ohio my father went and broke his leg. I can see through his cast and pain to the underlying coercion within. Sure he thinks we’ll feel obligated to stay longer and help him in his hours of need, sure he’s testing our caretaking abilities for the future, and defiantly he is testing my mother’s patience with us all. Due to Dad’s injury we hurried up and got to Cincinnati on Thursday.

When I was eleven I began attending a summer camp which always fell during the first week of July. After that I moved away and as a result I have not been with my mother on her birthday in 21 years. So this year we threw a big party for her and denied her nothing. Daddy bought a giant tent for us to erect and we felt like carnies again. We would have decorated the entire block given the roll we were on, but the festivity preparedness came to a screeching halt when we learned of the helicopter crew’s fate in Durango.

Despite our best efforts to put on brave faces and enjoy the party a deep and all encompassing sadness had taken a hold of Dan and I and our productivity level dropped to almost nonexistent. Despite our zombie-like behavior the revelry continued on and we bucked up enough to enjoy the company of our friends and family who were in attendance. My mother had a ball.

The band, also known as my father, Jude, Jan and Ron. I am very blessed to have a ton of musical friends, and they like to play all the time. They even wrote a song for Dan and I and performed it at our wedding, and from time to time they play it for us and make me cry because I love them all so much and have known them my whole life.

For the fourth of July holiday we attended parties, parades and fireworks displays. Somehow the mere sight of a fire truck was enough to bring tears to Dan’s eyes and once again we are unable to shake the loss of the two brave men who Dan had the great fortune of working with, and the pilot of the helicopter who was a friend to them.

Dan is back in Durango today, attending the first of three memorials this week. For now all of our plans are on hold. When he returns we have some big questions to answer, like how much longer do we travel for? Maybe this is a good ending point for our trip, just head back to Durango from here and call it quits. Kind of nice book ends really, we left from Dan’s home town and finished in mine. Beyond that we wonder, what jobs will we be getting and where will those jobs be? And I wonder how to put a nice neat bow on this website and give it a happy ending.

But today none of these questions can top the big ones we are struggling with, like why those guys, why that day and that way, why so young? Take a minute and think of your loved ones, let me remind you that you are not promised another day with them and may we all be better friends, spouses, and children, so we don’t have to regret the things we forgot to say and the love we forgot to give.

These beauties are Ruby and Essa Britt, daughters of one of my oldest and dearest friends.

Sorrow

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Sat, 02 Jul 2005 14:41:00 +0000

Once again we are overcome with grief and as such I will not be making a normal post today. Thursday afternoon two of our friends were killed along with a third Durango man when the Careflight Helicopter they all worked on crashed. Dan was close with "Pod" and Scott, as was the entire Durango EMS family. Dan will be returning to Durango on Monday to attend memorial services and to be with his friends while they all grieve. We feel so far away from home right now.

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Sun, 26 Jun 2005 21:21:00 +0000

New Hampshire, Vermont and New York

When you have lived out west for as long as I have you become westernly ethnocentric. You start thinking that only the west is this beautiful, only out here is the skiing this good, or the mountain biking or…well anything. I had forgotten my eastern roots. Maine reminded me, but New Hampshire and Vermont brought me to my knees to beg eastern forgiveness for my presumptive snobbiness.

From Acadia we drove west, through beautiful farmland and past dozens of lakes and streams. When we hit New Hampshire we were speechless at the beautiful rolling farms and green fields. Vermont though is when we realized we could live out east.

As soon as we crossed the border we were enamored. We began by touring a maple syrup factory. Now let me tell you this. I am not a big fan of sweets. After a nice meal I may order a crème brulee, and when Dan makes me a cobbler I enjoy it. However, I am not a candy bar girl, I can go weeks without a dessert, and aside from the sugar I put in my coffee each morning I can pass a whole day with no other sweet urges. I do, however, have one weakness. This weakness is what landed us at the maple factory. This particular place produces more maple candy than any other producer in the world and I am ashamed to admit that after the tour I took not one, but three candies from the sample plate and I purchased five boxes of the nectar of the Gods.

The spread in the Ben and Jerry's Sampling Roon
We had opted for a small and quick breakfast since we were a bit rushed on this particular morning. This came back to bite us when after the maple factory tour we landed smack dab in the middle of the Ben and Jerry’s tasting room after another factory tour. Now sated with enough sugar to fuel and army we both endured full-fledged tummy aches. Fortunately we weren’t far from camp, so we hurried on and ate something flour and milk-based to try and rectify the situation. We camped outside of Stowe Vermont, near Smuggler’s Notch.

Flavor Graveyard at Ben and Jerry's

The next morning we headed into Burlington and this is when we fully realized that there is a place for us out east. Now don’t you worry we aren’t moving there any time soon…but, if my beloved husband should decided that he is going to medical school someday then we can now consider a few schools out here. Burlington is a beautiful, small college city surrounded by mountains and Lake Champlain.

Burlington, Vermont, as seen from atop our camper on the ferry.

Ausible Chasm, New York

After a fun hour-long ferry ride, (the kind we like where they let you remain in your vehicle, allowing us to picnic on our roof and enjoy a bird’s eye view), we landed in northern New York. Again we were blown away by how rural, rustic and beautiful it is here. We made a stop at Ausible Chasm and hiked along the river, for as long as you can without paying the $16 hiking fee. From there we ventured on to Lake Placid, home of the 1932 and 1980 Winter Olympics. Both Dan and I are Olympic junkies so this place was extra especially cool for us. Warranting the big words I just used ;)

Ausible Chasm.

Lake Placid's bobsled track.

Lake Placid proved every bit as cool as we had hoped. Unlike Salt Lake, you can go play Olympian here for a reasonable price. A Bobsled ride will run you $30. For $14 you can learn to shoot like a biathlon and try your skills at two rounds of target practice. And if you are lucky like us, for free you can drop in on a freestyle camp’s exhibition show.

Back Flip to one Ski landing.

Dan took a nasty fall biking and broke this part. We figured we were doomed since he insists on riding his circa 1985 Cannondale. Somehow we dumb-lucked our way into the only place in the world that still had this part burried deep in a spare parts box.

Tonight we are camped outside of Tupper Lake, enjoying our first real sunset in months. Even with reality creeping in on us, we are able to enjoy this moment.

An apology: We have not had consistent Internet access for the last week or so. Go figure that when I pose a question for you all to answer I am struck silent by lack of cell coverage. As a result when I can check we have 20+ messages and I am failing miserably at replying to them all. If you have written us before then you know that I am a reliable responder. If this was your first correspondence then I apologize for failing to get back to you in a timely manner, and perhaps at all, because honestly I have lost track of whom I have responded to and whom I have not. But fear not, we are weighing all relocation suggestions equally at this point since no one has yet included a job offer.

Acadian Rhythms

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 22 Jun 2005 11:35:00 +0000

We spent our anniversary riding about 30 miles along Cape Cod's bike trails, capping our evening off with a celebratory lobster dinner and bottle of wine. The next morning we were on the road again.

We passed this guy along the way, he was cleaning his groups' daily catch of stripers, in preparation for a fish fry. They caught these guys surf casting.

Our first stop was good old Plymouth, Massachusetts. We played the typical touristas and practically ran through the town searching for the rock. All we need is a picture and then we can leave. Did I really just say that? Am I so jaded after 12 months of sightseeing that all I care about is a photo to post on here? I guess so. Well that and just how excited we were to finally reach Maine. We did force ourselves to slow down enough in Plymouth for the picture and to buy a bag of salt water taffy.

The Mayflower II.

Not long after we crossed into our last east coast state. Maine and Acadia have always been the end goal, anything after this is just icing. The Maine coast is defiantly worth the trip. The coast is speckled with lobstering communities and very quaint inns. Every cove is replete with buoys marking the pots anxiously awaiting a lobster. Each fisherman has a state registered buoy. They are assigned a color pattern and buoy shape. The traps are no longer drab wood and string, now they are a rainbow of plastic and polycord. Lobstering is a very colorful occupation it would seem.

We walked through the city of Portland and I fell in love. What a charming city. The buildings all have a historic feel to them. It is a small city with a friendly vibe. We strolled through the Public Market and got lessons on how to cook soft shelled crabs and lobster from the local fish merchant. Were it not for the rain, clouds and seemingly sub zero temperatures I would add Portland to our list of possible residences.

We made a few detours off of the main road to visit some more remote fishing towns and finally made camp at around 5:30 at Camden Hills State Park.

The next morning we high-tailed it for Acadia. As far as National Parks go Acadia is an anomaly. It seems to me that since what is now Acadia was all acquired by private land donations it has less continuity than other parks we have visited. There isn't the normal grand entrance we had come to expect. The island that most of Acadia is located on is checker boarded with small towns, private campgrounds and Bed and Breakfasts. There are park roads and regular roads, so in fact you can see most of the park without ever going through a park gate.

None the less Acadia is as grand as we had heard. The park is jam packed with coastline, forest and carriage roads. I would recommend visiting some of the surrounding towns, Bar Harbor, Northeast Harbor, and further away Freeport. The little towns are what really gives you the feel for the place.

As an aside we heard from multiple people that Acadia's campground reservation system is a bit screwy. If you are headed that way there is only one park campground that takes reservations and you may have to enter various sizes for your RV before it will give you a spot. For instance all the spots for 21-24' truck campers were booked but 18' were available as were ones for 22' class C's. Our 18' spot would easily have fit a rig twice that big, and I'd guess that the park was at less than 50% occupancy. You just have to let's say... caress the system a bit. If all else fails there are many private campgrounds on the island as well and you can hope for a first come spot in Seawall which is supposed to be nicer and newer anyway.

We quickly realized that Acadia is not a friendly place for a 12' tall camper. There are roads you can take to get you safely to the campgrounds but if you want to see anything along the park's roads you had better be under 10'4". As a result we unloaded the camper for the first time in six months. Dan was thrilled to have his sports car back (he thinks a ¾ ton truck is a sports car when it isn't hauling around another 3000lbs in the bed). Unbeknownst to us, when we chose which week to come here, there is a bus that provides "free" (with your park admission) transportation throughout the park, but this bus doesn't start until 6/23. The bus would be a fantastic way to see the park, so if you go it may be worth waiting until the bus is operating.

Our first Acadian morning we opted not to watch the sunrise, even though atop Cadillac mountain you can be the first people to see it come up in the US. While this sounds novel it takes place at 4:30 in the morning and aside from sleep or the occasional bad dream- nothing take place for us at 4:30am. Instead we joined a ranger-led tour of Otter Point. This was a nice introductory to the park and a good way to learn about the local flora and industry. Later we drove the Park Loop to the carriage roads. We rode along 16 miles of the roads which were built by John D. Rockefeller nearly 80 years ago. The roads are shared by bikers, hikers horseback riders and horse drawn carriages.

A bridge along the carriage roads.

We had some very nice neighbors in the campground and spent our evenings chatting with them, which was a nice distraction from the weighty thoughts we were prone to over the weekend.

Monday we opted for a hike. If you go to Acadia do this hike! We parked at Long Pond, hiked the Perpendicular trail to Razorback making for a nice loop. Perpendicular is so named because it runs directly, get this, perpendicular to the lake, the catch is that next to the lake is a mountain, so perpendicular could just as aptly been named Straight Up. After climbing 1000' vertical in just under a mile we were treated to some fantastic vistas and a very pleasant trail back to our truck.

The trail up is a series of individually placed granite stairs built by the CCC.

One more night with the neighbors and our time here has drawn to an end. I am glad that we were in such a beautiful place during this time. Only a place this special could provide a distraction from the sad thoughts and homesickness that were creeping in on us. Now it is time to head for the Midwest and the valley that spawned yours truly.
OHIO- round on the ends and HI in the middle, here we come.

Preliminary Polling Results.

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 22 Jun 2005 10:21:00 +0000

Many of you "commented" and many emailed so I can embellish here as much as I deem appropriate and unless you have access to my email inbox you’ll never know. Many voted for Bend, which is Dan’s favorite option, sighting the recreational opportunities and scenery. A few thought Salt Lake was a good fit, guessing that nice blonde haired, blue eyed kids like us could pass for Mormon in a bind. Some felt Portland held a lot of potential both for recreation and occupation; this is my personal choice for today.

Many came up with interesting places like Idaho, the Dakotas, small, remote, tropical islands, any place with a beginner surf break and a guest house, Durango (okay not exactly original), Gem Village ( “suburb” of Durango, slightly more original), rural Ohio, and southern California to name but a few.

My ever imaginative mother managed to circumvent my “no votes for Cincy by my folks” caveat, by emailing all of her friends and asking them to vote for Cincy . (Note to my mother: your best hope would be to arrange some serious tectonic plate action resulting in a great land mass upheaval, somewhere in the 10,000’ range, followed by a meteorological shift causing a champagne powder effect to coat the Ohio valley six months a year). And a few friends sent along some colorful antidotes that my self-imposed PG-13 rating will not allow me to comment further on.

Sadly no real job offers came in and no one offered to publish my book or to sponsor future travel. We did however get a nice house-sitting offer and a few people willing to petition the Travel Channel on our behalf. Sadly, though we are back to square one. Perhaps we just need more of a consensus to make up our minds, so keep the comments coming. If you have no opinion then just click an ad and help us that way ;). We love hearing from you all, and just think in a few weeks who else’s life choices will you be able to influence with a simple email?

So far away from home.

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Tue, 21 Jun 2005 15:40:00 +0000

We have been in Maine for the past five days but our hearts have been back home in Durango. The little river we were both fortunate enough to work on for more than ten years dealt a tragic blow to two families, our town and the very tightly knit river community there. In 22 years there had never been a commercial death on the Upper Animas. This Friday marked the deaths of not one but two, a 30 year-old man from Texas and a 25 year-old guide that we knew. The effect on our friends is palpable to us even out here, more than 2000 miles away. May you all know that you are in the forefront of our minds right now, and though we are so far away we feel your pain as if we were there holding your hands.

The End is Near….

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Thu, 16 Jun 2005 13:40:00 +0000

Note: We are in Acadia with no Intenet connection so we cannot currently reply to emails. We will when we hit the road again in a few days. Also if you use the comment button then we cannot reply to you, if you'd like a reply please include your email address in your post. Thanks.

A few of you have written asking about our final itinerary and where we will be relocating to when our trip is over in August. I have been hesitant to answer because:

A. We don’t know.
B. On those rare occasions when we think we know, we are hit with another variable that changes our mind.
C. We don’t want to admit that we have to grow up and get real jobs again.

So here’s what I do know. Currently we are en route to Cincinnati, Ohio via Acadia National Park in Maine. From Acadia we are torn between traveling through Canada or the U.S.

After a nice long visit with my folks in Cincy we will be bee lining it for Oregon which is one of our potential new homes. From there we will return to Durango, fetch our remaining belongings and move to our new home, wherever that may be.

Since no other factors have lead us to a clear cut a decision, why not open this up to public debate. This is the audience participation section of our Blog. Here’s how you play…

Click on the comments line below (it is light blue directly below the end of this post). Begin your comment with the name of the city, town, country, etc. of your choice and then follow that up with your reasoning. Suggestions containing actual job offers will be weighted more heavily.

Here are the choices, in no particular order:
1. Bend, Oregon
2. Salt Lake City, Utah
3. Portland, Oregon
4. Crested Butte, Colorado
5. Any other place that we can get jobs or that will grant us work visas.

Small print:
We reserve the right to completely disregard all votes and make up our own minds.
Votes made by my parents for Cincinnati, will be ignored.
Spiteful votes for places like Farmington, New Mexico or the moon will be ignored.
All votes for "grow up and get a job", or "make your own minds up you poser gypsy wannabees", will be disregarded.
Any votes containing the phrase “yuppie gypsy posers”, or anything similar will be highlighted and mocked in future posts.

Feel free to chime in on must sees between here and Cincy and any hair brained ideas that might help to keep us in perpetual motion. Happy voting.

Fahgettaboutit

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 15 Jun 2005 14:58:00 +0000

We arrived safe and sound into the outstretched arms of my decades-old friend Ms. Heather Jean Bates. It had been far too long since she and I had last spoken face to face and what a welcome face to see among the hoards of huddled masses in Grand Central Station. Heather expertly navigated us through the city to the sanctuary which is her apartment in Brooklyn Heights. After we moved in, learned which corner of her spacious 100 square foot studio was ours and learned the proper way to appease her attack cat we felt like we were ready for a night on the town.

Heather, Me and Dan.

We met up with Heather’s boyfriend Raf (Rafael) and went promptly to their favorite Japanese Restaurant. Heather is a very wise woman who knows that the fastest way to get two country bumpkins to embrace the city is through their stomachs. A few sushi rolls and a bottle of sake later we were throwing fahgettaboutits and vaclemts out like old pros. We strolled along the promenade in Heather’s neighborhood, staring at the city all lit up we marveled at how beautiful something entirely man-made can be.

The next day was marathon-see-everything-in-NYC-in-twelve-hours-or-less kind of day. Again our expert tour guide led us unflinchingly through the city. We raced over the Brooklyn Bridge, past Heather’s office, right into downtown Manhattan.

We paused to visit the World Trade Center Site and I was struck by how hard it is to reconcile the pictures we all saw on TV with the pit that is there now. Thousands died there, and yet I couldn’t wrap my head around it like I could when we visited the Vietnam Memorial just a few days before. It made me long for a Memorial- something to bring it into perspective. Then Heather took us to catch the Staten Island Ferry and en route we passed the sculpture that has become the de facto memorial. That is what made it hit home for me. It is what remains of a fountain that was in front of the buildings. Somehow it survived in good enough shape to be re-constructed here in the Battery and it, more than the site, is the place to come and pay homage.

We rode the ferry past the Statue of Liberty; it is a good, free, way to get a nice view of her. With three boroughs under our belt we headed uptown. A quick sprint through Time’s Square left Dan in shock so we opted to keep with that and thrust him into the East Village. His head swirling with Broadway and green-mohawked, pierced teenagers, we decided to spare him further trauma and retired to an Irish pub for a pint.

Back in the relative calm of Heather’s neighborhood we had another dinner out followed by a nice evening with friends.

Sunday morning we ate bagels along the promenade and said goodbye to Heather and Raf. Heather walked us to the subway station and made sure we got on the right train. Somehow we managed to navigate the city all alone and miraculously made it onto our Connecticut bound train right on time.

Back in New Haven cousin Heather met us at the train station and gave us a tour of the Yale campus where she used to work. We enjoyed a nice dinner with Heather, Lee and Lee’s two teen aged boys. One more night in the Mental Health Facility parking lot and it was time to head off on our own again. Lee and Heather took us to a nice place for lunch where we could stroll along the very pretty shoreline and relax to the sounds of the ocean. Once again we must thank them for saving us from certain divorce, should we have tried to in any way navigate NYC in our rig, parking in CT was a relief and a much, much better idea.

Monday night we made it to Rhode Island and enjoyed a very mellow night. It was really nice to be back in our routine again. Yesterday we drove to Cape Cod, rather than hob-knobbing with the beautiful people we opted for doing laundry and bowling. Fortunately for us the laundry mat is right next door to the bowling alley. Apparently they bowl a little differently out here. There was no bar, no greasy spoon and not even balls with holes in them. This is candlestick bowling, you use bocce-like balls and you get to throw three times instead of just two.

Here are some more New York shots:

The tree sculpture in Grand Central's Market.

Subway performers.

June 15, 2005

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 15 Jun 2005 14:20:00 +0000

Today, June 15, 2005, is an important day for us. Not only is today our wedding anniversary but it also marks one year on the road . Daniel Lawrence Goddard and I have been married for three years and together for ten. Or as we like to think of it, nine regular years and one dog year, for a total of sixteen years. Trust me, you spend every moment of a year with your significant other and tell me it doesn’t count for seven!

Our trip is winding down, we have started searching through want ads and trying to decide what we want to be when we grow up. It is surreal to me that this trip which was just a dream five years ago is almost over now. Again I am overwhelmed by the experiences we have been so fortunate to have, by the people we have met, friends we have visited, family that has nurtured us and the time we have been able to spend with each other.

Not many couples get to really know their spouses like we have this past year. I can tell you honestly that I love Dan more and more every day. Save for the days that he questions my navigating skills, cooking skills, knowledge of geography, history or socially acceptable behavior. Also on occasion when he forces me to listen to pop country I question my love. And when he cleans after I have because of his OCD tendencies then sometimes I wonder. But on every other occasion I know that I have found not only my mate but my best friend and I am eternally grateful for the time and experiences we have been able to share.

Capital City

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Fri, 10 Jun 2005 13:17:00 +0000

Some final pictures from West Virginia.

We got back onto the Blue Ridge and followed into Shenandoah National Park. We wanted to hike along the famed Appalachian Trail, so the next morning we got up early and hiked for about eight miles. We passed by three waterfalls, were surrounded by fern chocked fields and white tailed deer.

Deer at our Shenandoah campground.

Timber Ratler at our lunch stop.

This is one of the rivots that hold on the milemarkers along the Appalacian Trail.

The Appalacian Trail logo.

Dan hiking the trail.

Wednesday we planned to spend the day touring around Washington, D.C., but were our plans were foiled by a four and a half hour oil change and the need for a new marine battery. After we got all the kinks worked out we made it into the city around 4pm. We unloaded our bikes and rode past many of the Capitals famous buildings. We camped at a state park about 20 miles south of the city.

The U.S. Capital.

The Korean War Memorial.

The Lincoln Memorial.

The Supreme Court.

The White House.

The Vietnam Memorial.

Thursday we met up with Rick and Edith for lunch since they happened to be in the city that day too. Then we toured the Smithsonian Natural History Museum and Art Museum as well as the sculpture gardens.

The Smithsonian Natural History Museum.

After our museum tours we had a very special date. We drove out to Silver Springs, MD, where I got to meet my Great Aunt Kitty and Uncle Raymond. Our visit with them was something I will always remember and once again I am overwhelmed at the opportunity we have been given to travel and re-connect with friends and family.

Yesterday was a six-state day, Maryland, Delaware, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York and Connecticut. Dan and I stymied the anxiety attacks which were welling up inside us as we drove I-95 through New York City. Have I mentioned lately that Dan is an excellent driver? We spent the evening in Branford, CT with my cousin Heather and her husband Lee. Today we will board the train to NYC, leaving the rig safely parked in CT, and will rendezvous with my long-time friend Heather Bates, in Grand Central Station- wish us luck!

The New River, West Virginia

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Tue, 07 Jun 2005 18:10:00 +0000

West Virginia.
When you live and raft out West you hear these stories about Eastern rafting and most of the really good stories are about the New and the Gualey rivers in West Virginia. This past Thursday Dan and I had a chat about what each of us really wanted to do in our remaining two months and Dan said The New. So we detoured off of the Blue Ridge and made our way to Fayetteville, which is home to the 18 or so companies who commercially run the river.

After a few discouraging hours we had almost given up on Dan getting to paddle the lower gorge (the class III-V section). Since I am not as good a boater as Dan I cannot go with him on those kind of stretches and it is unsafe to attempt it alone. We tried to find some local boaters that Dan could tag along with, but this too is a bit dicey since you don’t know their capabilities and vice versa.

Additionally given some of the “neighborhoods” we had been driving through we were starting to have some serious Deliverance flashes and were getting a bit scared. I heard a joke yesterday…”Given the choice I’d rather be dropped off at night in Compton than West Virginia. In Compton they just shoot you, in West Virginia they keep you.”

This is when we stumbled onto Rivers’ base camp and met up with Jeremy. Jeremy is a video boater; he follows commercial river trips down the river in his kayak, stopping to video the trips at the bigger rapids along the way. He and Dan discussed the possibility of Dan working for him on the Gauley and next thing we knew we were booked on the 8:30, full-day, lower gorge trip for the following morning. Since Dan is a potential employee we were allowed to camp with the other dirt bag rafter types for free. Note: in this context dirt bag is an honorary title.

Rivers has its own bar, restaurant, campground and outfitters store, very near the take-out for the lower section. The bar is genius because raft guides like to drink so they will never be short of customers. When you go down the river with these guys you get two free drinks after the trip, so everyone gathers in the bar and has a drink with their guide while watching Jeremy’s video. Friday night we met a bunch of the guides at the bar and I managed to secure a seat on a guide boat instead of the usual customer boat.

Dan barely slept that night. This was going to be one of those “check off your list of things to do” kind of days, and he was excited. The river was everything we had heard. The gorge is beautiful, deep and lush and steeped with history. The river is a hoot! In the first rapid, which is named Surprise, we flipped out 12’ boat, more or less on purpose, since we were all guides this was just a fun flip and we had the boat righted a minute later.

After lunch we splashed through rapid after rapid all ranging from class III to V (really probably III’s and IV’s by western standards, at this water level). It was like a giant wet rollercoaster, boats flipped, swimmers swam and everyone had a blast. Rivers puts on a good show and runs a safe trip, we were impressed.

Meanwhile Dan was busy spinning and surfing in every hole he could find. He had an ear to ear grin all day, even after he got surfed upside-down in a nasty hole named Nose Bleed and only popped out when a raft ran him over. He grew up watching videos of eastern kayaking and now he has gotten to run one of the big eastern legends.

We returned to the campground happy and satiated. We were recounting the day’s adventures to each other when Jess and Kimball, both Rivers’ guides, came knocking at our door with great stories, conversation and a jug (really a jug) of moonshine. This might be Dan’s perfect day.

A big, no a HUGE, shout out to Jeremy, Goldie, (Dingle)Barry, Amanda, Kimball, Jess, Thomas and all the folks at River’s. We’ll see you again.

I was a bit behind in my posts so this is the second one today. Click here to read about our time on the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Blue Ridge Parkway

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Tue, 07 Jun 2005 16:31:00 +0000

Each and every person who reads this should promise themselves right now that they will take the time to drive the Blue Ridge Parkway some day. This road is so stunning that I am sad now writing this because we have temporarily veered off of the parkway.

After we left Kevin and Leslie we spent a night in the Pisgah National Forest, which while the forest was very pretty I cannot recommend the campgrounds there. Our experience was that the campground was unkempt and overly expensive. The campground host told us repeatedly that the cost was worth it because we’d get a hot shower unlike the Parkway campgrounds. Well there was a shower there, but it did not work the first night and didn’t drain the next morning. In hindsight I wish we would have pushed on to the Parkway that night.

But then again if we'd pressed on we would have missed sliding rock, which was hilarious.

We picked up the Blue Ridge outside of Brevard, N.C. at around milepost 415. That day we drove only 100 miles but we took our time and didn’t get into camp until late. Along this leg we toured the Folk Art Center, Craggy Gardens, and Mt. Mitchell (the highest point in the eastern U.S.). We detoured only once due to the extensive damage last year’s hurricanes caused to the parkway. In three spots the road was simply washed away and the rebuilding projects, already long underway, looked daunting. We camped at the Linville Falls campground which was immaculate and nice. That night it began to rain and it wouldn’t stop for the next 56 hours.

Mount Mitchell lookout tower.

Mount Mitchell nature trail.

View from Craggy Gardens.

Us at the highest point in the eastern U.S.

The next morning we drove down to the Community of Linville and spied some of the falls and cascades along the road. We stopped at the caverns and saw remnants of mudslides and pictures of the aftermath of hurricanes Francis and Ivan. At noon we met up with Vicki a dear family friend of ours. We along with her golden retriever Sweetie Pie hiked all around Linville Falls. Around three we returned to our cars soaked to the bone. That evening we spent in Boone with Vicki and her husband John who was out of commission due to a very recent Achilles tendon injury. We tried not to rave too much about how great our hike had been, since poor John won’t be hiking for a while.

Linville Falls.

Rock slide from hurricanes.

Dan, Vicki, Sweetie Pie and me.

Thursday morning we all drove out to John and Vicki’s recently acquired land where they will be building their dream home over the next two years. For the first time I was the jealous one. Their home will be surrounded by forest with a view of the cascades and nearby mountains, no more than a mile off of the Parkway. Perhaps it is an effect of our impending settling down phase, but I sensed a new dream coming clear for us. A nice piece of land with a simple home, near water and surrounded by trees.

The cascade.

John and Vicki sent us off with a goody bag filled with sugared pecans and we promised to return soon, hopefully some fall when I can only imagine how beautiful it must be there.

Yesterday we drove from Boone, milepost 280-ish to Rocky Knob campground at milepost 170. Again we drove very slowly and made lots of stops. Most notably we visited the Mabry Mill. The first photo on this page is the standard/ required Mill photo, complete with rhododendron in the foreground. Again we were impressed by the campgrounds here; we camped in a completely empty loop, and enjoyed our solitude.

The Mabry Mill still.

Dan's new favorite place.

Carolina on My Mind

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Thu, 02 Jun 2005 12:15:00 +0000

On our way to Savannah we learned of Mrs. Wilkes’ Boarding House. We had budgeted enough money to do a tour or something touristy. Since Mrs. Wilkes’ came so highly recommended we decided that lunch would be what we splurged on. To find Mrs. Wilkes’ drive down James St. until you see the line of people. We waited in line and then were seated at a table with three other couples. The meal is served family style and costs $13 per person. Lunch consisted of, creamed corn, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, rutabaga, lima beans with black eyed peas, beets, cabbage, macaroni and cheese, biscuits, spinach, potato salad, okra and stewed tomatoes, two kinds of rice, fried chicken, sweet tea and banana pudding for desert. It was fantastic!

After lunch we walked all through the historic district and along the river. Savannah is a beautiful city.

Savannah City Hall.

Windows along the Riverwalk.

From there we headed for Charleston and a visit with my Godparents, Rick and Edith. Edith took Dan to the surfing beach on Folly Island and he returned with a huge grin on his face. The next morning we went out at high tide and caught some really fun waves. We were lucky enough to hit Charleston during their Spoleto Festival. The festival is a two-week arts extravaganza. We strolled through the craft and arts fairs and took in an evening, outside Pops and Bluegrass concert. Also we got the .25 cent city tour, Rick and Edith are some of the best tour guides around. They showed us the city, battery district and the beaches.

Rick and Edith loaned us their sea kayaks and we paddled from their dock all the way out to Fort Sumter. We are guessing that this was about and 7 mile paddle round trip. The fort was very interesting and well restored. On the return trip we were entertained by about nine porpoises who were playing where the river pours into the channel.

Fort Sumter.

A very special thanks to Edith and Dr. Louie Costa, for making arrangements to have my, still fat, cheek checked out. Dr. Costa is Rick and Edith’s neighbor and he just so happens to be a facial plastic surgeon. He agreed that I have a fat cheek, but assured me it will go away eventually and that I hadn’t managed to break anything. This was a relief for both Dan and I to learn and we are grateful to both Dr. Costa for squeezing us in and Edith for being a worrywart.

The dock at Rick and Edith's.

Mostly though during our stay we just hung out at their very comfortable house and enjoyed their company. Have I mentioned lately how great it is to have this chance to spend time with our friends and loved ones? We had a hard time leaving Charleston and have made a promise to return soon.

Saturday we hit the road again, this time for Charlotte, North Carolina and our friends Kevin and Leslie Mueller. Dan and Kevin grew up together and he is a good old rafting dirt bag of the finest quality. His lovely wife Leslie has managed to refine him a bit, much to her credit, but he’s still just the same dirt bag deep down. They gave us a bike tour through the city, culminating in a stroll through Charlotte’s weekend festival. However, unlike the subdued events we enjoyed in Charleston this was a rowdy NASCAR festival. The feathered hats of Charleston were replaced by Dale Earnhart Jr. ball caps, horse drawn carriages for souped up race cars, and praline pecans for funnel cakes. I love how vastly different our days can be.

Our campsite.

Hummingbird.

Sunday Kevin, Leslie and we headed for Ashville and some boating. Today (Monday) is Kevin’s birthday and Leslie got him a brand new whitewater kayak. Dan and Kevin were elated to be together and kayaking. They ran stretches on the French Broad and the Green. We found a great campsite right along side the French Broad- no small feat on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. We said goodbye to Kevin and Leslie and are now headed for the Pisgah Forest where we will pick up the Blue Ridge Parkway.

Downtown Charlotte.

Dan kayaking.

Kevin surfing.

Jekyll Island, Georgia

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 25 May 2005 00:18:00 +0000

Jekyll Island has a reputation. We had been hearing about it since we bought our camper. We got flyers in the mail, people in campgrounds were quick to say “oh you’re going to Georgia…you MUST go to Jekyll”, and so on. So off we went and low and behold next thing I know we are paying $27/ night to park in a no-see-um infested campground less than 5’ from the camper next to me.

Florida was financially a bit rough and as if to really punctuate this for us, our last fill up ran $2.69 a gallon- quick math…33 gallons…$88 a tank!!!!!!!!! But Georgia is a much more diesel friendly state, a mere 20 miles from the aforementioned fill up we were surrounded by signs for diesel at less than $2 a gallon. Not since February 2004 have we seen such prices. We were elated. This is what my life has come to- I celebrate gas prices, how far I have fallen and how fast…

I digress. Back to Georgia. Once parked in our spot we decided to tour the island by bicycle. This is where the Jekyll everyone gushes about starts to come into view for me. Our first stop is the fishing pier from which you can see the surrounding islands, lighthouse and the mainland, as well as teams of fishermen and looky-loos. From there we dumb lucked our way onto Driftwood Beach. It was a surreal tangle of downed and bleached trees, sand and surf.

The fishing pier.

There are about 18 miles of bike trails and that night we rode eight. We passed by the historic district, some old ruins and expansive beaches. At night back at camp we locked ourselves in our muggy camper, unable to so much as open the windows since no-see-ums seem to pass through our screens with the greatest of ease.

In the morning we loaded up packs and hit the bike trail once more. We rode all 18 miles of trail. We toured the Island Museum and played croquet on the lawn in front of the Jekyll Club Hotel. (I won). We walked the southern beaches and marveled at the dozens of sand dollars we saw. What we did not do is go swimming. The chocolate brown water was not inviting, so instead we drank smoothies and sought shade to cool off. One more night in the entombed camper and our time on the Island was over.

The hotel, see the croquet court in front?

It is a beautiful place. A perfect family island where you could send your kids off on their bikes knowing they’d be safe and well entertained. The island has an interesting history and the museum or an island tour are worth the time. Also Jekyll is home to one of the coolest bookstores I have ever seen. It is in the old infirmery, which was a residence before that. Cookbooks are in the kitchen, kids books in the nursery and so on. Today we crossed the bridge and are staying in Passport America campground for $12. Tomorrow we venture on to Savannah and Charleston, South Carolina.

Recounting Florida

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Sat, 21 May 2005 00:46:00 +0000

Sunday was a four-state day. It was not supposed to be, we had planned for a nice afternoon drive over to Gulf State Park in Alabama. Many campers had recommended this park and we decided that we could fork over the $25/ night fee, because it came so highly recommended. I am sure it is a nice enough park but on Sunday almost all of it was closed. All but about 20 campsites were blocked off, as was the lake and beach access. Seems they were re-stocking the lake and maybe recovering from some hurricane damage. This constituted our biggest wrong turn yet, we went more than 60 miles out of our way only to turn right back around for where we’d come from. The next few hours we hugged the coast into Florida. All of the Gulf Islands parks were closed more or less along this portion of the panhandle coast, due to the lasting effects of Hurricane Ivan. So we trudged onward hoping to find a beach front park that was open.

We saw plenty of evidence of the destruction that Ivan caused. It seemed as though at least half of the houses we drove past in Pensacola proper were covered in tarps waiting their turn for a new roof. Boats were hundreds of feet away from the water and piles of debris we still all over. Although it does seem that the beach and tourist areas were first in line for repairs and those parts are almost back to their pre-Ivan grandeur. The hurricane must have been pretty specific in what it hit, because not 20 miles out of Pensacola there were no more tarps, or abandoned ship wrecks, just pristine white beach and beautiful oceanfront homes.

We ended up at Grayton Beach State Recreation Area, just outside of Seaside. The beaches here are truly some of the most beautiful I have ever seen. The sand is pure white and extremely fine. Seaside is obviously a retirement/ vacation community, with lots of money. All of the buildings are brightly painted in Caribbean colors and most have widow’s walks or mock lighthouse towers on top. The town beach is speckled with rental chairs, umbrellas, kayaks and the like.

Grayton beach in contrast had just families enjoying the beach with floaties and sand castle making apparatus. We spent yesterday roasting ourselves on the park’s beach and trying to get the low-down on Florida surfing. It was a fine day and much needed since Sunday we were driving from 9:30am to 6:30pm. We invented Surf Frisbee, where the thrower times their toss so that the catcher must dive into a crashing wave in order to save the Frisbee from being washed out to sea. We stayed two nights at the very nice campground and now we are headed across Florida to Jacksonville, in hopes of finding some surf before turning north.

Tuesday and Wednesday.
We ended up at Anastasia State Park in St. Augustine. Did you know that St. Augustine is the nations oldest city? It was “discovered” by Ponce de Leon in 1565 (Gene check my dates ;) and is home to the fabled Fountain of Youth. Anyway we went their not searching for eternal youth but for surfing. We camped in the park, (as a side note may I inform you that camping in Florida is not cheap), cost $26.07 a night. The campground is a good ¾ of a mile from the surf break so we got a bit of a workout carrying our boards and needed beach items. Moms with three kids carry less to the beach than we do. This was our first taste of East Coast surfing and it was fun but very different. The breaks here so far are very hectic by comparison. The paddle out is through constantly crashing waves and the breaks are inconsistent so the idea of paddling out past the breakers and paddling in to catch a wave doesn’t work. Just when you think you are out far enough a wave barrels onto your head. So instead you are constantly paddling trying to stay ahead or behind of the whitewash.

Thursday.
In an attempt to save some money we went north to Hanna City Park in Jacksonville. We are purposely stalled out here for a few days because it is the cheapest camping we have found yet, $16/night and also has surfing. Hanna is on the north end of the city and abuts the naval base. The beach here is pretty and relatively empty for being in a big city. Also what it lacks in consistent surf it makes up for, in my opinion, with the millions of shells that wash up on the shore daily. I can’t think of a better shell gathering beach that we have come across. The campground is big, there are something like 300 spaces, but very lush and forested so it doesn’t feel so jam packed. There are even mountain biking trails here, around 14 miles of them.

Hanna Beach and the city of Jacksonville.
Friday.
This afternoon we left the beach when it got windy and a little overcast, opting for biking instead. We made it about two miles before the skies opened up on us. We hadn’t anticipated rain and this storm hit fast so we had not really closed up the camper. For a minute we thought about seeking shelter but opted instead for a mad dash back to the campground. The resulting ride and deluge was so much fun that I honestly laughed the whole way. We rode through foot deep puddles, through quicksand and some too close lightening, racing each other all the way. I was soaked to the bone and having the time of my life. I love rain, especially warm rain.

I know everyone in their right mind goes indoors when a torrential rainstorm hits, but I love nothing more than standing out in it, head up, mouth open, taking it all in. When I was a kid we lived in an apartment in Cincinnati, which has some great storms. My room was in the back on the top floor, the roof slanted so that all of the rain hit and ran back towards my room. When it rained the echoes off the metal roof were music to my ears. To this day I sleep so well when it rains, and I could lie in bed and listen to it for hours if I wasn’t tired. The roof of the camper makes a similar noise and I adore it just as much. For now though the rain has stopped and only the frogs and crickets drown out the other campers.

This beach was in Mississipi, I did not know that the Magnolia state had beaches like this.

Ticfaw, Swamp Tours and 'Nawlins

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Sun, 15 May 2005 14:54:00 +0000

Gator Day

Today is Friday the 13th. Unlucky? I think not. Today we saw gators and turtles and even a cottonmouth. The day began at Ticfaw Park, which is just such an amazing state park. Dan and I rode our bikes all around and walked along all of the boardwalks they have set up. The park is a science teacher’s dream come true. The interpretive trails, as well as the nature center, are chock full of swamp land facts and history. While the park seemed to be teaming with school groups, most were regimented to guided tours and so we had the trails to ourselves as long as we beat the school busses. On our return trip a park maintenance man stopped in his souped up golf cart and asked if we’d noticed the gator we’d just passed (see picture above), we hadn’t. After he pointed that one out, all of 50’ from us, he told us about a pond right behind where we were camped that had “no less then five of ‘em” in it. So of course the pond was our next stop.

Cottonmouth.

See the turtles on the log?

Ticfaw's water park.

The placards in the park talked about the region’s history and about how the land went from being stripped of all trees to being fertile land for farming the best strawberries around. Well as we were leaving the park we passed a “U Pick-em” strawberry farm, so we did. For $5 we got more berries than we could possibly eat, we have since been pawning them off any poor soul who happens by our campsite.

Tonight we are camped in our first ever KOA. This is for two reasons. One because it is really to close to the swamp tour I am getting ready to tell you about. And two because today is the second ever “Come Camp with Us Day”, where most KOA’s offer a free night of camping.

Swampin’

I was in Nawlin’s for a wedding about a year and a half ago. I had one day to sightsee and got talked out of what I really wanted to do, a swamp tour. I mean when you’re in Louisiana you must eat mudbugs, drink a hurricane and go swampin’. So this time I put my foot down (read as: begged Dan to forget our budget for a day and let me go) and off we went. From our free spot we drove about 10 miles to Cajun Encounters Swamp Tours, there Captain Ben took us (and 22 other touristas) on a two-hour honest-to-God swamp ture (I know tour is spelled t-o-u-r but ture is how it is said around these parts). The ture was complete with gators, nutrias (second largest rodent in the world) and many shanty swamp homes that make our trailer digs look mighty fine.

Cyprus Tree with Spanish Moss.

A six foot gator.

Nawlins

That is New Orleans to you folks. Today we took the free KOA shuttle into the Big Easy, this helped us to justify the $30 price tag on our no-frills camp site. Once in town we started the epic hiking tour that would last us eight hours. We strolled all along the River Trail, throughout the Garden District and mainly through the French Quarter. We ate our way through the town, gator, beignets and po’ boys, none were spared.

In the background, in green, you can make out what Dan's eating.

We stopped and listened to street performers and enjoyed the numerous artists who peddle their wares along the square. We spent about an hour listening to a fantastic Creole band and savoring the buy one get two free ways of Bourbon Street. Finally at 7pm we poured ourselves back into the van and returned to our home for an early night.

The lead singer/ accordian player of the Creole band we listened to.

We loved this guy, a quintessential bluesman, ripping it up on his harmonica.

The bluesman's boots.

A crane in the Audubon Park.

The street performers were great fun to watch.

More sights from The Garden District.

Vicksburg and The Natchez Trace

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Sun, 15 May 2005 01:15:00 +0000

Part of what has us so excited about this part of the trip is the chance to walk through history. Wednesday we toured Vicksburg National Military Park, in Vicksburg, Mississippi. This is site of a famous battle during the Civil War. Lincoln ordered General Ulysses S. Grant to gain control of the Mississippi in order for the Union army to win the war. Vicksburg was the most important of the Confederate strongholds left along the river, and beginning on May 12th 1863 the Union army held the city under Siege until finally, due to constant attack and lack of food and water, the Confederates surrendered on July 4th, 1863. Local legend is that to this day Vicksburg does not celebrate the 4th of July.

The park is filled with monuments erected by each state that had soldiers at the battle. Most notably, Illinois has a giant memorial dome located on the Union side. The battlefield is riddled with signposts marking where the forces drew their lines, sometimes the Union and Confederate lines were less than 20’ from each other. Imagine sitting in a trench for almost two months, 20’ from your sworn enemy, in the heat of a Mississippi summer, wow.

See the sign post along the trees? That was the enemy's post as seen from this cannon site.

Illinois monument's dome.

Our first glimpse of The Mighty Mississippi.

From the Military Park we got onto Natchez Trace Highway, just outside of Jackson, Mississippi. The Trace, or trail, was used by men who floated the Mississippi River in wooden boats laden with goods to be sold in New Orleans. Once they had sold all of their wares, including the wood that was once their boat, they would walk this trail back to Tennessee or Kentucky or wherever home was. In the early 1800’s the trace was enjoying its heyday, inns, locally known as stands sprouted up all along the route, and thousands marched along the trace.

Last night we camped along the highway at the Rocky Springs Site Campground. To our surprise and delight this campground is free. The CG had nice paved sites and bathrooms. A short hike from our rig was a part of the original Trace which we hiked up to the old Rocky Springs town site. All that remains is a falling down church and a few old safes; it is so overgrown that you will need a very vivid imagination to believe that a town of over 2600 people ever existed there.

Part of the Trace.

We followed the remainder of the highway down to Baton Rouge today, stopping to visit Mount Locust, the last remaining Stand (Inn) along the trail. We toured the house and the grounds. It was once a bustling plantation, home to 13 in the family and 50 slaves. On the grounds are both the family cemetery and the slave cemetery, the difference between the two was striking.

The family cemetery is well manicured, has an ornate wrought iron fence surrounding it, and contains traditional headstones and monuments.

In the entire slave cemetery there is but one very small, unmarked headstone, no fence and no discernable upkeep.

Tonight we made our way to Tickfaw state park between Baton Rouge and northern New Orleans. This park is fantastic. Camping is $12/night, which includes water and electricity. There is a new bath house built up high on stilts since we are surrounded by swamp, and even laundry which we are in great need of. The park has tons of activities ranging from, hiking/ biking, a nature center, a water park (this consists of a series of water guns and little slides), to a really great canoe tour that we will have to miss since the shuttle only runs on the weekends.

Tyler, Texas to Ruston, Louisiana

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 11 May 2005 17:25:00 +0000

Lincoln Parish Park, Ruston, LA.

We spent last night in Tyler, Texas, visiting our friends Meade and Lee Ann. They took us on a bike tour around their neighborhood and through the campus where they both work. Back at their house we did what you do when you visit friends in West Texas, we played Texas Hold’em Poker. Lee Ann took all of our money but we drank all of her beer so it evens out. When you consider that they live in a dry county and that it will take them a 40 minute drive to replenish their stock, you might even say we came out ahead. This morning per their advice we headed for Tyler State Park which is said to have some fantastic mountain biking.

The park is gorgeous and the trails look like a blast but today they were closed due to rain, so a driving tour was all we got. Again we were impressed by Texas’ state parks and would recommend this one. Not to be dissuaded we got back on I-20 and headed east for Louisiana. This is the first time we’ve been in a new-to-us state since Christmas. I get to put another state magnet on the stove so I am happy.

Our friend John Owen, who we will be visiting tomorrow, told us about Lincoln Parish Park outside of Ruston, LA, another place known for mountain biking. We got here around 1pm today, and promptly took a nap, seems it took Lee Ann a while to take our money so we were up too late. After the siesta we started peddling around the lake we are camped on, we easily found the trailhead and followed the well marked path through the dense and damp forest. The riding here is so much fun. The trails are rooty. muddy and a little technical in spots, but not steep or punishing like all those Utah and Colorado trails Dan drags me on. We buzzed through the trees and came out back at the lake an hour later. There are over ten miles of interconnected trails here and we have only ridden about four so far, (we did a lot of lollygagging along the way). Tomorrow we’ll finish off the loop before going to Alto to visit John and his family.

This park is truly wonderful. The campsites are full hookup but with a primitive feel, cost is around $18/ night. We are overlooking the lake and only about 20’ from its banks. The cove we are in is filled with turtles and bass, we are being serenaded by crickets, toads and birds as I write this. So far I am loving Louisiana, the people here are so friendly and helpful and the scenery is superb.

Louisiana, Rice Farming

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Wed, 11 May 2005 16:03:00 +0000

Alto, Louisiana.

John Owen and Dan worked together at Wolf Creek early on in Dan’s illustrious ski patrolling career. John had maybe the most interesting off-season job of them all, he is a Louisiana rice farmer. We spent yesterday afternoon with his wife Anne and their sons Bob and Pat before John came home covered from head to toe in grain bin dust. After a quick rinse off he drove us out to the farm for the grand tour. The Owen farm is 1900 acres of which 1200 is rice and the rest is a hodgepodge of wheat, soybeans and even some old pecan trees. John and Anne took us out for our first mudbug meal at Cormier’s. Along with his boys we put away 25lbs of crawfish. John even got us T-shirts from the restaurant that have instructions on how to eat them, (this is for Dan’ benefit he didn’t get the hang of “grab it, pinch it, peel it, suck it”, and almost starved).

Anne, John and a bucket o' bugs.

The Boeuf River.

Dan and John spent the evening reminiscing over the good ‘ol days and threatening to break out their explosives training to blow up some pesky beaver dams that interfere with rice farming. Fortunately they were all talk and no beavers were harmed in the making of this post. This morning we visited John out at the only high point on the entire farm. John showed us the grain bins and his huge combine. Dan had serious toy envy, our rig isn’t half the size of that combine.

Dan and John atop the Grain bin.

A dry rice field.

A flooded field.

The grain bin.

Irrigating the fields.

The grain bin fan.

Nothing brings me back to childhood like the smell of honeysuckle, which is everywhere around here.

Dallas

rachelcatherineroberts@gmail.com (Rachel Roberts) — Sun, 08 May 2005 19:10:00 +0000

Our friends Ryan and Jonika (you may remember them from the Grand Canyon posts) relocated to Dallas right after we got off of the Grand. We got to be their first non-family houseguests and they showed us a great time. Friday we got to visit Ryan at his office in a downtown high-rise. He took us to the famed grassy knoll and we got to hear a myriad of conspiracy theories, see the sixth-floor window in the book depository and the X painted on the road that marks the spot (supposedly) where JFK was shot. (The picture above is a commentary from a visitor to the JFK site, taken from the infamous picket fence.)

Sixth-floor window.

We ate out at fantastic restaurants, throwing our budget aside for the weekend we feasted on sushi and pasta. Saturday we did a bike tour of the city. Dodger and Jonika just bought their first place- a condo in Uptown, so we stopped by there. Nearby is a cemetery filled with prominent Dallas residents. On this particular Saturday a local seventh grade class was performing their Texas History assignment for the public. Each student stood near the grave of some past Dallas resident and acted out that person’s life. This boy was a prominent civil rights leader who died in the 1970’s.

From there we continued the tour around the city. We rode along the Katy trail, a local running/cycling trail made from an old railroad bed with really nice city views all along it. Once the tour was complete we enjoyed a lazy day of movies and board games.

Ryan and Jonika in front of their new place.

Dallas made a really good impression on us. Coming from Colorado as we do, it is bred into us that Texas is bad, but it seems that may not be entirely true ;) Now we are off for East Texas and another stop-over with friends.