UnderAgedRVers

Post Script

2005-09-29T10:56:00.005-06:00

If you would like to contact Rachel about this site, please send emails to rachel@thisendupyoga.com be well

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

2005-08-11T08:45:00.000-06:00

“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

2005-08-04T17:21:00.000-06:00

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

2005-07-23T10:43:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-07-13T17:52:00.000-06:00

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

2005-07-06T15:05:00.000-06:00

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

2005-07-02T08:41:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-06-26T15:21:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-22T05:35:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-06-22T04:21:00.000-06:00

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.

2005-06-21T09:40:00.000-06:00

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….

2005-06-16T07:40:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-15T08:58:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-15T08:20:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-10T07:17:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-07T12:10:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-07T10:31:00.000-06:00

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

2005-06-02T06:15:00.000-06:00

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

2005-05-24T18:18:00.001-06:00

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

2005-05-20T18:46:00.000-06:00

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

2005-05-15T08:54:00.000-06:00

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

2005-05-14T19:15:00.000-06:00

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

2005-05-11T11:25:00.000-06:00

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

2005-05-11T10:03:00.000-06:00

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

2005-05-08T13:10:00.000-06:00

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.

Deep in the Heart of Texas

2005-05-06T10:49:00.000-06:00

Chapter Four.

It has been a long, cold and wonderful winter. Living in the camper in the cold is infinitely more challenging than in the warmer months. We chose to run dry all winter, in other words we had no running water. This complicates everything, especially meal preparation. When faced with the prospect of having to boil what precious little water we had in order to then do our dishes in bus tubs, eating out seemed less of an extravagance. This is a big part of why winter camping proved to be much more expensive for us.

Last night's dinner, Thai Chicken Lettuce Wraps.

The other big reason was heat or lack there of. Our camper has the winter package, extra insulation, a two-paned front window etc, additionally we covered all of the windows with silver bubble wrap-like insulation and big fluffy cushions designed to fit in the sky lights, all helped to keep the chill away. Even with all of this it got cold, sometimes really cold. Our forced air furnace heats the living area well but not the cab-over part where we sleep. We bought a small electric heater which solved this problem but required a campsite with a plug-in. This meant that we had to pay to stay in private campgrounds with hookups, forgoing our preferred BLM or boondocking sites, and increasing our costs substantially.

Not only did we lose all of our “outside space” for the winter but the insulation kept out all natural light, making the camper seem more like living in a shoebox. Everything was just a bit harder.

Even so, I am so glad that we got to travel to and ski all of the places we did, but I won’t live in the camper for a winter again, unless it is in Mexico or somewhere warm. I would easily go on a week-long ski trip in it, but everyday for 4 months of cold is no picnic. So here we are headed south, water tanks filled and thrilled to be able to brush our teeth indoors again.

Thus begins the fourth and potentially final leg of our trip. We will spend the next two and a half months traveling the southern U.S. and then following the eastern coast north until we reach Canada again. This marks a bunch of unexplored territory for us both and we are so excited to be really on the road again that we can hardly contain ourselves.

From Durango our first stopover was Sante Fe and a night with our friends Connie and Albert (incase you are actually able to keep track of all of the supporting roles, Connie is Colin and Bjorn’s mother and Brook’s Mother-in-law, making Albert their step father and father-in-law by association) . If you are ever near this area a detour to Chimayo is a must. Not only is Chimayo home to the sacred and much folklored Sanctuario de Penetantes, but it boasts the best chili anywhere. The hillsides around Chimayo produce some of the sweetest and most flavorful red chilies in the world. They are dried and ground to make chili powder that is worth making a special trip for.

The Sanctaurio is the holy center for the Penatente faith. You may have seen photos of the faithful on their pilgrimages, where they carry huge crucifixes and practice self-flagellation. The shrine is home to the pit of dirt considered holy and said to have miraculous healing powders. Legend has it the hole never empties of the dirt, the faithful come and take vials and film canisters full of it, but every morning it has replenished itself. The church and surrounding buildings look straight out of deep Mexico and Spanish is as readily heard as is English.

The hole of healing dirt.

Crutches of the cured.

Connie and Albert treated us to a movie at their favorite art gallery/ cinema. We saw “Born Into Brothels” which I recommend very highly. If you like our photos wait until you see what a group of red light district children in India can do when a foreigner gives them cameras and sets them loose among the prostitutes and poverty.

After the movie we returned to Connie and Albert’s house which is located right along the river in Sante Fe, we laughed so much my stomach hurts today. Our campsite was right next to the flooding river and we slept the deep sleep that only comes from lying next to the sound of moving water.

Connie and Albert's house.

The guest quarters.

Today we are speeding along I-40 headed for Amarillo and eventually to Dallas for the weekend. It feels so good to be making miles and to be on a road we are blissfully unfamiliar with.

Thursday

Last night we camped at Greenbelt Lake about an hour east of Amarillo. Texas’ parks all seem to offer water and electric hookups for about $10/ night, which is a deal by our standards. Greenbelt has such a park, right alongside the lake there are about 20 cement back-in sites. Once we parked we met the only other person around who was leaving his camper here overnight while he went back to retrieve his boat. We asked him who we should pay since all of the offices we sealed up tight, her said “you won’t find no’bdy round here, ain’t the season”. So we got a site with water, electricity and a lake view for free.

Campsite at Greenbelt lake.

Prairie Dogs.

Lake Arrowhead.

Behind our campsite.

This evening we are at Arrowhead Lake outside of Wichita Falls. The ranger here informed us that in Texas you do not need a license to fish from the shore, and even better they have a “lend a rod” program. So I gave him my driver’s license number and he gave me a lure chucker and a tackle box full of hooks to go fish for crappie with, for FREE, for up to seven days! Camping costs $16 once you pay the day use fee, but again we have electric and water and this park even has hot showers. Who knew Texas was so camping friendly.

Bobber fishing.

Fish measurer.

Costa Rica

2005-05-03T08:01:00.000-06:00

This was a true vacation. I realize the humor in my talking about vacationing, but hear me out here. We are constantly planning, where to go, how to get there, how to afford it and so on. This trip was put together by our friends; all we had to do was provide a credit card and next thing we knew we were whisking away for Central America.

We landed in San Jose around 9pm Sunday night. We got a taxi and found a cheap hotel. Our taxi driver was named Wilson and he turned out to be our personal valet throughout Costa Rica. The next morning Wilson picked us up and drove us the four hours to Manuel Antonio, stopping along the way to point out crocodiles and to help us rent surf boards in Jaco.

See all the crocs in the river?

We stayed at Costa Verde a very nice and small resort in Manuel Antonio just south of Quepos on the Pacific side. Wilson returned to San Jose and promised to fetch us at 5pm the following Saturday. It was still the afternoon so we threw down our bags and headed for the beach. The walk from the hotel to the beach is only 1km but is all downhill there and seemingly up a mountain on the return. We must have walked that hill 50 times during our stay.

There are giant Iguanas at every turn.

We had been warned repeatedly about the theft problem in the area and so we brought nothing of value with us, leaving only our flip flops on the beach. After an hour or so of frolicking in the waves we got back to the beach to learn that apparently flip flops are of value, and someone had stolen Dan’s brand new ones that I had given him for his birthday. Lesson learned.

The next few days were filled with beach/surf sessions, pool sessions and alcohol consumption, punctuated with huge meals of casada. Casada, also known as comida tipica, is the traditional Costa Rican dish which consists of rice and beans (gallo pinto) fried plantains a meat of your choice (always pescado for us) and often a green bean and ground beef casserole of sorts. We ate casada for almost every meal.

On our first full day in Manuel Antonio Dan and I woke up early to catch some good waves. Note to self: learn to read tide charts. The tide was very low and as such the waves were shore break. None the less we gave it the old school try. Not a good idea, the first wave I caught I went over the falls and got cold cocked in the cheekbone by the board. Within minutes I was smuggling a golf ball under my eye that would slowly spread down my cheek and, as I was told by a local fellow, produced a nice green/black bruise which really set off my eyes. For the remainder of the week Dan got some nasty looks from anyone who noticed, I do look a bit battered.

Me with a super-sized cheek, and shamelessly plugging our friend's restaurant. When in Durango eat at Nini's :)

The next day we hiked through the National park which is the big tourist draw in the area. The park is home to some truly stunning beaches and tons of wildlife. Everywhere you turn there are dozens of these super colorful crabs. Monkeys, Tucans and Sloths abound and we were treated to a particularly spry sloth at the end of our hike, in ten minutes he progressed at least five feet.

Crab in the park.

Three-toed Sloth.

Squirel Monkey at the restaurant in our hotel.

White-faced monkey.

Since surfing early was not good we opted for fishing instead. This is how Dan, Travis Zac and I ended up on the gay nude beach. We started fishing along the coast and worked our way around a few rock bars until we came upon a beautiful and deserted beach, the boys left me alone to go try their luck further down the shore. Slowly other people started to arrive on the beach; eventually I started to notice a trend. All of the other people were men, in Speedos and they were all in pairs. Apparently at about ten a.m. there is a signal, that I missed, which causes every one to hang up their Speedos and head into the water. I should have known, after all this was the prettiest beach in the safest neighborhood, of course it was the gay beach. The boys were equally as surprised when they came back to find me flanked by dozen of naked men, paying absolutely no attention to me, but they were largely distracted by the two fish they managed to land themselves.

The four of us stopped for breakfast at very empty beach side restaurant. We came to find out that it was deserted because the hotel had been rented out for a movie which was being filmed there. We enjoyed our breakfast, got to watch a trained Chimp parade around in a dress (he’s in the movie) and generally reveled in what an odd morning it had been. The movie is titled Surf Camp and stars a bunch of pre-pubescent kids who star on various WB shows. Just then three drop dead gorgeous models walked past (also in the movie), laid out their towels and stripped off all but their bikini bottoms; then they ran past us Baywatch style into the surf. Conversation immediately stopped, and I became invisible to them all. Ahh yes what a day indeed.

On Friday we opted to use our February ad revenue to enjoy our second Reader/Clicker Appreciation Day. This time we went on a zip line canopy tour through the rainforest. Thanks again to all of you. This was an exhilarating tour and a real challenge for me since I don’t like heights. Waiting my turn to zip, atop a platform suspended 90’ off of the ground was not something I would normally do. Once it was all done though I was thrilled to have done it.

This was a 65' rappel.

Morgan zipping along.

View from the zip line.

Mostly though we just made laps between the beach and one of the three pools at Costa Verde. It was a relaxing and fantastic vacation and a true departure from what has become our routine in the camper. Wilson, true to his word showed up Saturday and delivered us back to San Jose. Sunday we spent 19 hours traveling back to Colorado.

From left to right. Jeremy and Steve, Eric and Jamie, Dan and me, Travis, and Zac and Morgan.

Today we leave Durango for the first time with no set return date. This weekend we will be in Dallas and from there we are off to the land of mudbugs, gators and swamp buggies.

Thanks to all who wrote in response to our last posting, unfortunately all of the correspondence was complimentary so there will be no rebuttals this time ;)

Snoop, Cottonwood, Dunes, Fishing and Hate Mail

2005-04-22T07:27:00.000-06:00

Vail proved to be exciting and exhausting. The concert was huge, over 10,000 people attended and the aftermath was daunting. We worked from 7am to 3:30am (yes am) on Saturday alone.

This is our friend and co-worker Gina, aka Cookie, filling 90 water jugs to anchor tents for the show.

We think of ourselves as carnies, here is a circus tent we erected.

We stayed in Vail through Monday finishing up the event and putting everything back into the warehouse. This should be our last work for a bit. As difficult and challenging as working a giant event can be we are very thankful for the opportunities we have been presented with through this job. Once we figured out Canada was a no-go for us this winter we were at a loss for how to afford a winter of storm chasing and skiing at many different resorts. A big heartfelt thanks goes out to Highline, for the emplyment and the good times.

Here's the view from our room in Vail, they were having a street concert right below our balcony.

These folks are Peggy and O.C., our bosses.

Working these events is really tiring and we have come to identify the way we feel the day after as the Highline Hangover. Tuesday we had a doosey of a hangover so we decided a day at the hot springs was needed. There is a highway from Summit County and Denver back down to Durango that we must have driven a hundred times. Somehow, though we had never managed to stop at any of the various hot springs along rt. 285. Per a local’s advice we chose to visit Cottonwood Springs. A very rustic “resort”, the pools are beautiful and they seem to be making lots of improvements currently.

After our soak we felt better albeit very sun burnt, kids always wear sunscreen. Dan wanted to spend the night in the Sand Dunes, so we detoured a bit and enjoyed a night in our newest National Park (at least I think it is the newest.) The money that came along with the Park’s status upgrade is immediately noticeable. This is the nicest N.P. campground we have stayed in yet.

From there we headed over to Creede, Colorado to visit our friends Jason and Julie. Jason is a fly fishing guide and he decided to break in his new drift boat by taking us fishing. The stretch of the Rio Grande that runs through there is beautiful and fun fishing.

Dan and Jason.

Now we are once again in Durango, (does anyone else think that we are making woefully little progress leaving here?) We have completed the winter/summer gear swap, I have done some shopping for Eastern guide books and we are ready to hit the road once again as soon as we return from Costa Rica. I am really looking forward to heading south and east, this is new territory for us both.

We leave tomorrow for Costa Rica. I will not be posting from there so I would guess that our next post will be sometime around May 3rd. Until then feel free to send us any questions or comments, we’ll respond when we get back.

Warning below is a lengthy rant, some useful insight may be gained by reading it, but really you won’t miss out on too much if you just look at the pretty pictures

The day before yesterday we received our first bit of hate mail. Personally I feel this means we have really arrived. I think the definition of a successful blog is over 35,000 hits and at least one piece of hate mail, so congrats to us. Here is the “comment” we received:

I am tired of coming across your site when I am looking for real info in regards to travelling on a budget (RV). YOu two are a couple of posers - you are the must yuppie gypsies I have ever read about... lets review... telluride spas, vail condos, sno cat skiing, trips to Costa Rica, what a bunch of horses***!!!! - and the fact that you are begging your readers to click on your ads so you can get more money is frosting on your pathetic cake. Get a life, else quit posting your consumer promoting travels on the blog!

A couple quick phone calls to our more sarcastic friends convinced us this guy's for real. (If in fact the writer is female, please note I mean no disrespect when using the term guy, I am using it in its colloquial non-gender specific manner.)

I shall address this note phrase by phrase. First, we are the UNDERAGED RVers, not the Budget RVers. However, we do travel on a budget of sorts. We did budget for the better part of three years to be able to afford our trip, this was not easy, we are not wealthy, just frugal and goal oriented. Aside from the money part we saved up all the fun tickets and brownie points we could muster in order to redeem them along the way. Case in point we skied over 50 days this winter and paid for three. This was due to the generosity of friends, the work we picked up along the way and one well written letter that offered a review of an area in exchange for ½ priced lift ticket (which I believe I noted in the post and review of that area- see Snowbird, Utah).

Second, “YOu two are a couple of posers - you are the must yuppie gypsies I have ever read about...” . This too I have addressed in past posts, I believe I called us the Yuppie Clampets. Now are we yuppies, or posing as yuppies?? As to the examples listed…telluride spas, free thanks to our friend Pete Woods past marketing VP of Telluride Ski Resort. Vail condos, actually we stayed in condos in Park City and Breckenridge, as part of our employment with HighLine, in Vail our friend Dale hooked us up with a hotel room which six of us crammed into. Sno(w) Cat Skiing, we paid half price because we know the owner and our guide was Marc, our friend who visited us in Mexico, we used the money that our readers have helped us earn by clicking on the ads to pay for this. Costa Rica, admittedly a lavish excursion. The money for this trip was earned by picking up extra work see the 20.5 hour work day referenced above. As a side note we got a screaming deal airfare and hotel for our trip was less than$550 per person.

Begging our readers to click our ads…. Ahh yes. Well let’s see here. First off let me preface this by saying that I love maintaining this blog. I am amazed and overjoyed at the life it has taken on. Originally I never expected anyone but my Dad to read it, and if you all didn’t write me from time to time I might still believe that he was responsible for all 35,000 clicks. For many months I never earned a cent from the site, if the ads went away today I would still continue posting.

As of this post I have posted 45 times. On average it takes me two hours per post, this time is used writing, editing/ correcting and uploading the pictures. I am not counting the research involved previous to our various excursions or the time it takes me to take the pictures, etc. So a bit of simple math, a conservative estimate of two hours per post, times 45 posts, gets us 90 hours. To date we have earned almost $400 from the ads, this divided by just the hours put into the site gets me about $4.44 per hour. Camera cost $600, computer $2000, monthly Internet connection $30 and so on....

When I visit sites that I enjoy, I click their ads, it takes me but a moment, from those ads I have learned about RVing, about places we have visited along the way and various other useful info. From clicking I get the satisfaction of helping the person whose blog I find enjoyable or educational. When I had the opportunity to place similar ads on our site I did it. I appreciate that so many of you take the time to visit our sponsors; it helps us out and seems to me a win-win situation for all. If it feels in any way smarmy to any of you then please continue to read our site and ignore the ads. In an attempt to thank those who click we decided not to use the money for just gas, or for something mundane, but since it was money we never counted on we use it to do things we didn’t plan to do. I intend to continue placing the ads and using any profits to further add excitement to our trip and hopefully to your reading experience.

And finally “Get a life, else quit posting your consumer promoting travels on the blog!” This is my blog (well ours but everyone knows Dan just drives ;) I chose to write about our travels, the places and things, or even products that have enhanced our trip. I try very hard to show my appreciation for each of our experiences and above all for the chance we have been given, and have provided for ourselves, to take this leap of faith and go out on this adventure. I acknowledge that we are just about the luckiest people in the world to be able to do this.

I thank you, anonymous angry reader, for affording me the opportunity to further explain the way we do things and what our motivations are. I hope that I have addressed all of your issues here, and I am sure that our readers look forward to your next comment as much as I do. Que le vaya bien.

One last shot, Dan and I have an admittedly annoying habit of calling each other Bunny. So we couldn't resist this one.

Reader Appreciation Day

2005-04-10T13:35:00.000-06:00

Thanks again to all of you who read and click. Saturday we enjoyed a challenging day of cat skiing with some of our closest friends. We had never managed to make it out with San Juan Ski Co. which is sad since they are based in our hometown of Durango. In February you all clicked away and we made almost $250 from the ads on our site. A day cat skiing cost us $240 after tip and the other $10 bought us beers afterwards. If you are ever planning a ski trip to SW Colorado than a trip with Bob Rule is a must. The terrain he can access is some of the most amazing I have ever seen and can challenge any ability of skier.

This is where we skied for most of the day.

Everyone picking thier lines.

Our crew, note that Brother Pat is the one with his back turned.

The ski terrain.

This van takes you up to where you meet the snow cat. It is a pretty fun ride.

Fruita
While our day of cat skiing was fun, it was not ideal. It had been hot all week and then on Saturday a storm moved in freezing everything and making the terrain really challenging. So we have decided that we are done skiing for now and wanted to be warm again. This lead us to Fruita, Colorado, a Mecca for mountain biking. We have been blessed with two warm and sunny days of excellent single track riding. Our friend Eric Wienk has joined us and we have had a ball.

Dang and Eric

Rachel atop Joe's Ridge

Me smiling through the pain.

Eric brought his other "bikes" and the boys enjoyed a two-sport day, riding the dirt bike trails that lead up to the mountain biking area.

From here we are off for our last bought of employment for the foreseeable future. This one ought to be a blast. We are going to Vail to work a Snoop Dogg concert. Some of our Durango friends are working it too so we should be able to get ourselves into all kinds of trouble.

From Vail we return to Durango to begin the gear swapping process. You see in three weeks we are heading south and east and from there we do not know when we will be returning to Durango. It is time to trade snowboards for surf boards, skis for bikes and pants for shorts. But, before we head out east we are heading south, very south. To Central America in fact.

We have "earned" a vacation we think. Actually we had a few too many beers and Eric convinced us that we deserved a vacation, next thing I knew I had put two tickets to Costa Rica on the debit card and was searching online for a new bathing suit. So on April 23rd we, along with seven of our friends, are going to Costa Rica for an eight-day vacation. No camper, no budget, no ski pants or snowboard boots. I am so excited to be on a beach, surfing and sipping frou-frou drinks that I can hardly stand it. But I am getting ahead of myself. For now on to Vail.

As many of you know our plan for the winter was to live in Rossland, B.C. and settle into one town and one ski area for three months. Alas there was no snow there this year and Red Mountain was forced to close down in mid-March. Ironically enough all of the snow was hitting our home turf so we tucked tail and made circles around Colorado for most of the winter. Instead of one ski area, we got to travel the west and ski some of the great ski hills along the way, 20 in all. This photo shows what we did on our winter vacation.

Natural Bridges, Utah

2005-04-08T15:01:00.000-06:00

Daniel Lawrence Goddard turned 32 this week. He had one simple birthday request, to be warm. So away we went to the desert. Specifically we went to Bridges National Monument. Bridges is south of Monticello and towards Lake Powell. It is less known than its cousin Arches National Monument. Arches are rocks that have been carved out by wind and the elements to make an arch or hole in the rock. Bridges on the other hand are carved by water and span a creek or river. The three Bridges here are magnificent, spanning the creeks that formed them and surrounded by Indian ruins and cliff dwellings.

Dan’s birthday was a day of warm temperatures, light breezes and cerulean skies. We hiked through the park to the first two bridges. Half of the fun was the trail, you decend down slick rock with steps cut out in some of the steeper spots and the paths down the very steepest spots are aided by lodge pole ladders.

You hike right up to and under the bridges and climb up into the cliff dwellings. The trail is dotted with pictographs and rocks smoothed by the Ancients for grain grinding.

We camped in the park’s campground, a very nice spot with all the normal park amenities. It is a popular spot, filling up each night by 5:00. We reveled in removing the insulation from our windows, for the first time in months actual sunlight lit our camper. We made a birthday feast complete with Dutch Oven cobbler and reveled in preparing it outside. After dinner I let Dan beat me at chess, it was his birthday after all.

The next day was even warmer. We strutted about in our flip flops and shorts, applied sunscreen to body parts made translucent over the dark winter months and traded beanies for visors. We completed the trail to the third bridge, my personal favorite.

Along the way we stopped for lunch at a small waterfall and craned our necks in all directions in search of more ruins. This park is a great place to spend a few days. The hikes are beautiful and fun to try and follow.

Back in camp last night we sat in our camp chair and read books feverishly. After dinner Dan beat me at Scrabble, (not a good trend I see forming). I finished my book “Hell or High Water”, about the first decent of the Tsangpo river in Tibet. Now I am ready for boating season.

Tomorrow is “Reader/ Ad Clicker Appreciation Day”, back to snowboard boots and snow for a couple of days. Sure was nice to be warm, but Cat Skiing isn’t half bad either.

High water signs.

Aspen Xtreme

2005-04-01T09:33:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday we got to ski Aspen Highlands with our ski school friends.
From left to right, Bjorn, Kenny, Blades, Dang and Chris.

We had a great day on the mountain and that night the Wolf Creek boys arrived. The next day was the official Ski Patrol party. Basically you pay $55 for a lift ticket, meals, and all of the beer you can possibly consume between 9am and 2am. We had a blast, but somehow didn't get much skiing in. Everyone dresses up and generally makes fools of themselves.

This is the Wolf Creek crew. Note the vehicle, Tuesday night we lost one of the Wolf Creek boys, he showed up the next morning with this van, the Steamboat patrol's van. Nice work Micheal. The guy leaning against the van on the left in the grey jacket is High Speed Jon Reed, he made us all proud by winning the tranciever drill, he is the guy you want to go back country with.

Yesterday was rough for all involved. Today, however, we are fully recovered, save for a few moments where we remeber what we did and said that fateful night in Aspen.

Now we are in Breckenridge for a couple of days work. Sunday we'll head back down south for Wolf Creek's closing day and then we will head somewhere warmer to celebrate Dan's 32nd birthday.

Dan and Eric on one of their only runs of the day.

Solitude and Park City

2005-03-27T08:43:00.000-07:00

Utah gets snow. Lots and lots of it. This week Alta saw 80” and where we were got around 60”. This is great for skiers, which we got to be on Tuesday, but not so great for outdoor laborers, which we were the rest of the week. Tuesday we skied Solitude, which was very nice. We found a tree run that we nicknamed etch-a-sketch because due to wind loading it was fresh untracked powder every time we hit it.

Solitude

Me, waist deep.

Solitude has some fantastic groomers.

The Solitude base area.

Tuesday night we arrived in Park City and moved into the plush Deer Valley condo that would be our home for the next five nights. Again we got to work with our friend Peggy and this time we got to make a new friend, Cookie. Cookie kept us in stitches all week. Peggy offered us more work next weekend and we couldn’t resist the chance to hang with her and Cookie again. Also the carney jobs dry up when ski season ends so we figure we ought to work while we can.

Our Jeep course.

The youngest competitor in our Rail Jam competition.

All this working has allowed us to up our budget to $50 per day, and we have enough money to travel beyond our June 30th end date. Who knows if we can keep picking up carney work, maybe we could travel forever ;)

This weekend’s event was another Warren Miller film showing, Rail Jam and RC car course for Jeep. We scaled the course down a bit from the behemoth we built in Tahoe, but it was no less fun for us. The inch an hour snowfall made everything more challenging, and made us wish for unemployment when we saw all of the blissfully happy skiers enjoying hot chocolate and reliving their day’s runs. Finally, Saturday we got to ski Park City and enjoy a night off in the condo.

Today we began our trip to Ahhhhspen, where we will be attending the Pro-Patrol party. This promises to be a drunken and debaucherous couple of days. At the party, patrols from different Colorado ski areas compete in avalanche beacon drills, ski races and toboggan hauling events. Some take these competitions very seriously. Wolf Creek sets its sights on the coveted “spirit award” each year. This is really a “who makes the biggest fools out of themselves by dressing in outlandish costumes and consuming the most alcohol”, kind of award. Dan and the Wolf Creek boys will be defending their two year title.

But for now we are camped alongside the Green River in Green River, Utah. We enjoyed a campfire and the mild temperatures here tonight. Both of us are longing for warm weather camping again. Winter in the camper is much harder than summer. I’ll write more in detail about winter camping later, but for now know that we can’t wait to turn off our heaters, fill our water tanks and trade the down coats for surf trunks. However, that will all have to wait, because there are still three weeks left to ski season.

Durango, Colorado Again

2005-03-21T08:50:00.000-07:00

Due to a bout of employment this last week we have no real posting for today. Dan spent the week hauling spring breakers off of Wolf creek and I sold them sunscreen and obnoxious hats from here in Durango. We did get to enjoy a fantastic day of riding yesterday, Wolf Creek got about 12” which made for yet another one of those epic Wolf Creek powder days. While in Durango we got to visit with our dear friends and Dan’s family who always make it so hard for us to leave this place.

With Dan in Pagosa and me here in Durango, we were seperated for a week. This is the most time we have been apart in nine months. We both survived although our mounting co-dependency is becoming more and more obvious.

Today we leave for Utah for another Warren Miller event and a few days of free skiing. This job makes for much more interesting story telling and photos, so I promise to post later this week/weekend with tales of our Utah antics.

Feel free to drop us an email underagedrvers@yahoo.com. We love hearing from you all. Cheers and check back soon.

Colorado Cool Down

2005-03-13T13:02:00.000-07:00

We spent last Sunday in Moab, visiting Brother Pat their parents. It was Dan’s father’s birthday. From there we went back to Crested Butte. Last time we were there our friends Alan and Liz were out of town and we had promised to return when they’d be around.

Alan is the Gunnison County Avalanche Forecaster as well as a very experienced backcountry guide. We decided to utilize his expertise for our first real backcountry tour of the winter. I got to try a split board for the first time ever, a split board is a snowboard which splits in half to be used like skis for skinning.

I have never skied. I learned to snowboard at 16 and never got around to learning to ski. This is a disadvantage in the backcountry where often skinning (skiing with a skin on the bottom of your ski to allow you to go uphill) is the best method. Prior to this day I had always snowshoed when riding in the backcountry.

Dan skiing the coullier.

Our line.

Me at the bottom.

There was a definite learning curve associated with the split board, and having my legs be able to operate independently of one another was a bit unnerving at first. But, once we got to the top it was all worth it. We found ourselves atop a nice 42 degree pitch with a 100-yard coullier in the middle opening up to a large gladed powder field.

The next day we skied at the area with Liz and our other Crested Butte friend Andreas, who is a welder/ artist. The day was cloudy and flurries fell from time to time. Still we had a blast. We got to see our buddy Eddy while we were there as well. Eddy was very busy, his paper just won a bunch awards and he won one for best editorial writer.

Dan, Alan and Liz.

Before we left on Wednesday, Dan, Alan and Liz hiked up another peak to get some spring skiing in.

Alan skiing Carbon, in the Crested Butte backcountry.

From there we stopped over at the Orvis Hot Springs. Orvis is a clothing option hot spring so no pictures are allowed. Trust me you wouldn’t want to see most of their patrons in the buff anyway. Orvis is very camper friendly. A night there is $24/ person, but this allows you two day’s worth of soaking and since a day pass is $12, it is like free camping.

Then it was back to Telluride to visit Eric and Jamie for a few days. This turned out to be a very expensive visit. You see Jamie and Eric, along with 3 of our other friends had been planning a trip to a foreign, warm, exotic place complete with surf waves right in front of their hotel. Since they are going somewhere we have never been and have always wanted to go to, we were easily persuaded to join them. Retirement is hard work, we think we've earned a vacation from vacation ;). So in late April we will leave behind our camper and fly off for a week in…. Well you’ll just have to wait and see.

Also while in T-ride we got to get our blood pumping, and Dan got to hone his firefighter skills when Jamie and Eric’s water heater caught fire just as we were getting ready for dinner. Thanks to the quick thinking of all involved the fire was contained to just the wood below the heater and since it was in the garage the smoke damage was negligible. We were all immensely thankful that we were home, and that we caught the fire really early, otherwise it could have been very bad. Sometimes you are reminded how truly small and fragile we can all be.

Now we are back in Durango for a few days. Dan will be working at Wolf Creek, helping out during the spring break rush, and I’ll be peddling ski equipment at The Ski Barn here in Durango. We gotta pay for this vacation some how.

Special note of thanks: The banner ads below help us to generate a small bit of income. They only pay us once we have earned over $100 in a month. Thanks to all of you we did that for the first time in February. We had thought we’d earn a few gas tanks worth, but since our earnings equal almost exactly the cost of a day of cat skiing we have decided that is a better use for the unexpected cash. We have been telling our buddy Marc (from Cerritos, Mexico fame) that we would have him guide us skiing for about three years now. So, on April 9th we will embark on our first ever “Reader/ Ad Clicker Appreciation Day” and get to go ski somewhere we have never been before, with some of our best friends. Many, many thanks to all of you who support us by supporting our sponsors.

Lake Tahoe Powder

2005-03-03T19:45:00.000-07:00

Last shot from Heavenly. This is Mott Canyon.

This might be a good time for me to describe for you what kind of riders we are so you can decide for yourself how to interpret our "reviews". Dan has been skiing forever; he competed in down hills in his youth (although he was always about 50lbs short of being a contender). He coached downhill and has ski patrolled for eight years. He can ski anything. Additionally he snowboards, and much to my chagrin is also really proficient at that.

I grew up in Ohio, snowboarded for the first time at 16 and that doesn't really count because it was on a blue ice covered, converted, land fill. At 18 I moved to Colorado and started really riding. I am proficient and can make it down anything that Dan drags me out to, my signature move is the double black diamond falling leaf (for those who don't know this is not a good thing, this is a cheaters way down runs that are too steep for them).

Given our choice we would both always ski powder filled bowls and tree runs. We like going into terrain parks on non-powdery days when other runs are hard and unforgiving. Neither of us would draw any ohhs, or ahhs in the half-pipe and rails with kinks in them make my butt hurt just looking at them. But give us a jump with a soft landing and watch us go.

I suppose you could best sum up our style as backcountry like in-bounds skiers. We like natural terrain features, steep powder filled glades and even the occasional balls to the wall groomer race. That ought to do it, now on to the areas.

Homewood

On Tuesday we drove around the lake to Homewood. Homewood is a fabulous place. It has lots of easily accessed backcountry-like terrain, fun groomers, amazing views and during the week you can get tickets for $22. We went there because a couple of blog readers wrote us to say that it was the best kept secret on the lake, and I'd have to agree with them.

View of the lake from Homewood.

Homewood has some great tree skiing.

Reno

Lodging is pricy in North Tahoe so we opted to spend a night at Harrah's Casino in Reno. For $35 we got a four star rated room, not too shabby for the likes of us.

This picture is blurry and I think that about sums up our time in Reno.

In South Lake Tahoe there are plenty of $30-40/ night motels, the campgrounds charge $25 and the showers don't work at the one we chose, so forking over another $5-10 is pretty easy to justify.

Alpine Meadows

Dan really wanted to visit Alpine, it is less known than its neighbor Squaw, but everyone we talked to recommended it, so we had to go. Once again we were not disappointed. We woke up in Reno to learn that Alpine had received 10" of fresh; Dan started twitching, as he is prone to do in anticipation of skiing powder.

Alpine has amazing bowls, cliffs and super craggy faces. It has terrain that could challenge even the most seasoned riders. It is not crowded and we were able to get fresh tracks all day long. Riding all of these different places is so much fun. I feel really challenged and for the first time in years I feel like I am actually getting better at riding.

Dan dropping a chute off of the Sherwood Cliffs.

Here's a picture of our tracks in The Promise Land at Alpine Meadows.

Dan jumping the cornice on Expert Shortcut.

Sierra at Tahoe
First off I must give a big blog shout-out to Brook, Brent and Bonnie for hooking us up with free tickets to Sierra- Thanks you guys. We had a great day. We missed the storm by one day, so the in-bounds terrain was best on groomers and in the north facing trees. Sierra has SIX terrain parks and a half pipe. SIX!! We like it out here because all of the areas designate their parks as small, medium and large, small being our personal favorite.

On our first chair ride, we met a very nice ski Patroller named Mitch, who took us on a backcountry tour just out of bounds. Here's Mitch and a friend picking their lines.

The view from the top of the backcountry bowl. It is a bit intimidating because you have a drop to get into the bowl and you cannot see your landing.

And from the bottom if you look closely you can see Mitch standing in the middle. It was a fantastic run and only about a 20 minute hike.

The lake from the deck of the Grandview Lodge.

Since we went backcountry today, and have some plans to go out of bounds in Colorado next week, we decided to practice with our transceivers. We took turns burying a transceiver while the other one located it. Dan is fantastic at finding the transceivers, I feel very safe. I on the other hand take a bit longer than he does, so if you are my partner you might invest in an avilung :)

For those of you who have no idea what any of that means, I'll break it down. Since there is avalanche danger in some of the places we go, we have avalanche transceivers. We wear them incase one of us should get caught in a slide and buried. The other can use their receiver to locate the buried person. Transceivers take practice to use, so a few times a winter we try to do these drills. Once you have an idea of where the buried person is you use your probe (an 8' rod, a lot like a tent pole) to test the snow for the person, then you use your shovel to dig them out. All of this can be easily carried into the backcountry, in avy-gear specific packs. If I am your partner you might wear a vest with a special air chamber and tube built in to buy you some more air/ time.

Sierra has a fantastic program where for $25 you can get a guided tour back into the area we rode today. You get a backcountry safety lecture, and transceiver lesson. All of the gear is included and your guide is a ski patroller. Avalanche awareness classes can be pricy, but are a must if you intend to ski the backcountry. This is a great way to get introduced to this kind of terrain in a controlled and non-intimidating way.

Dan playing with his transceiver.

Kirkwood

For our last day in Cali we skied Kirkwood. We had to because we've heard so many great things about it and because it is the sister resort of Durango Mountain Resort. We weren't super motivated though, so we had a very leisurely morning and hit the slopes promptly at 1pm. Kirkwood is awesome. it has cliffs, chutes, bowls and plenty of scare yourself terrain. The people were all very friendly and the resort is beautiful.

After our afternoon of skiing we met a guy from Berkley who clued us in on the Snow Parks, we keep seeing along the roads. Seems the Snow Parks access backcountry skiing, snowmobiling, snowshoeing etc. For $25 you buy an annual fee and these areas make for excellent boondocking. Wish we'd met him before we paid $25, but such is life.

Top of Kirkwood.

Rachel contemplating her bump line.

Look closely, see the lift in the distance?? It accesses some incredible terrain.

Our time in Cali has been spectacular. Where else can you find the views of Tahoe and a place with so many skiing options? We will be back for sure. But for now Colorado is calling. Time to bonsai it back.

Heavenly, South Lake Tahoe, California

2005-02-28T08:23:00.000-07:00

We drove and drove and finally around 6pm on Wednesday we made it to South Lake Tahoe, in time for dinner with Peggy and Justin. We worked with both of them in Vail and were thrilled to get to hang with them again. Thursday we learned that we would have the difficult task of building an RC car course. Dan, Justin and I got right to work shoveling snow, building kickers, bank turns and tunnels. Really it wasn’t work, but more like kids in playground. Saturday I got to ride the mountain handing out free snacks and prizes, I was the most popular girl on the hill that day. The event went well and we had a lot of fun with our co-workers and friends.

One of the RC Jeeps jumping on our course.

Th event we worked was the Warren Miller Experience, a two-day expo at the base of Heavenly, where Warren's latest film was shown, bands played and it all ended in a big party at a local casino.

One of the treats associated with working this week was the opportunity to stay in a hotel for almost a week. Here is the view from our room. Not too shabby huh? After you have lived in a camper for eight months, the chance to shower every day is a welcome change, and the hot tub is a nice bonus too.

As a special treat, my best friend Beth came up to visit us. We were thrilled to see her and to get to go riding with her. Poor Bethy is a grad student at the San Francisco Art Institute and all her time painting has been keeping her from snowboarding for 3 years now. Beth had to leave us this morning which was particularly sad since we awoke to 10” of fresh and no crowds. Sorry Beth.

Heavenly has some great terrain. Weekends are crazy, far too crowded for my tastes, but if you can hit it on a weekday, then it is great. The Mott lift has some fantastic tree skiing and where else can you be in a different state with every turn? We love that their trail signs say California this way, Nevada that way.

Beth and I on the mountain on Saturday.

The views from Heavenly are worth the cost of a lift ticket alone.

Dan, Beth and I riding the gondola on Sunday.

We couldn't resist a ride on the double black diamond tubing hill.

We are having so much fun here in California that we have decided to stay for a few more days. Tomorrow we are checking out of S. Lake and heading for a new ski area.

Snowbird, Utah to Heavenly, California

2005-02-23T09:28:00.000-07:00

Since we last posted, we skied Snowbird in Utah, returned to Telluride, skied with some of our dearest friends and settled in for the remainder of the ski season, or so we thought.

First we rode Snowbird, which is a big and fun mountain. We spent the day riding bumps and choppy open bowls. Snowbird is worth visiting just for the views, and if you have the money then it is worth visiting for the heli-skiing. We opted for the view and the in-bounds terrain. Special thanks to the Snowbird marketing department for hooking us up with cheap tickets.

If you look closely you can see the sluff from where Dan jumped this cliff, dan is the dark spot below the cliff, lower left.

Inside the tram on the way to the top.

From Snowbird we headed down to Moab to visit Brother Pat in his new home. Friday afternoon we all drove over to Rico (near Telluride) to visit Jamie and Eric (see Sept. 15 post for their pictures). Meredith, Frank and Marc Snider came to visit as well. Frank is Meredith’s brother and one of Dan’s oldest and best friends. We all skied Telluride on Saturday and Sunday and even though they all made me ride bumps all day long, I still love them.

Monday Dan and I began what should have been our routine for the remainder of the winter. We rode for a few hours, then went into Telluride proper and afterwards went to sleep in our camper parked in the 14-day lot. This morning we woke up, had a lazy morning and rode with friend Jon Reed (a Wolf Creek patroller). We were falling into our routine very nicely. Then at noon we got a call from O.C. and everything changed yet again.

Salt Lake City as seen from the top of Snowbird.

O.C. is the guy who hired us to work in Vail at the U.S Freeskiing Open. He offered us a few days of work in the one place we haven’t skied yet and really wanted to, California. So because we are easily bought and will get to ride some new mountains, which have tons of snow, we are currently retracing our steps to Moab, Salt Lake City and then on to Cali. No doubt this will make for a more interesting post then… “T-ride got another 2”, we rode from 10-2, then had beers at the Gorrano. Later, we got chased around the parking lot by the snowplow all night.”

Additional note: My computer has been a naughty boy and apparently has not been “using” protection like he should while hanging out with some seedy programs. He has contracted a nasty virus which is making my life interesting and eternally frustrating. Hopefully I will be able to remedy this in the next few days, otherwise I may chuck this thing out the window while speeding down I-80. Keep your fingers crossed.

We’ve Got Our Mojo Back.

2005-02-15T17:30:00.000-07:00

So how deep was it???

The drive down proved a bit exciting. I-90 through eastern Idaho and Western Montana was icy and snowy. The plows seem to have been caught off guard and so were many motorists. We passed about a dozen cars, trucks and trailers in the ditches alongside the road. All the while in our truck, whoever was not driving was trying to get an Internet signal and track the storm that was heading just south.

Finally yesterday around 3pm we felt sure that Targhee was the place to go. According to The Weather Channel, The Wyoming Avalanche Center and Intellecast, the brunt of the storm was heading there and not into Utah, which was our other destination. We pulled up to Grand Targhee Resort around 4pm and decided to just check to see if they had any ski and stay packages that would make a night in a hotel feasible for us.

The view from Targhee.

As it turns out Targhee is a really reasonable resort. A refreshing twist on the super-conglomerate, highfaluting, mega resort areas in Colorado and Utah. Why, you can pull right up to the base of Targhee at a respectable hour, the night before Valentine’s Day and get a slope side room for $59.00. Since neither of us had come up with a way to carry a dozen roses in the camper, we decided this would have to substitute. We fell asleep under heavy down comforters, with snow falling outside and in our own beds, (Valentine ’s Day or not the chance to sprawl out in a queen size bed all by ourselves was too much to forgo for the sake of romanticism).

I am not a fan of Valentine’s Day. A socially prescribed day of flower and chocolate buying isn’t my idea of showing my husband that I adore him. That said, today was my best ever Valentine’s day.

This morning we awoke to 7” of fresh on top of the 7” they’d gotten the day before. We were ecstatic! Powder, lovely, soft, forgiving powder, I had almost forgotten how good it is. We got second chair (seems there are some really die-hard locals there who beat us to the first one) and rode beautiful gladed, mellow, powder fields all day long. The lodge where we spent the night has a lobby complete with fireplace, overstuffed chairs and free cocoa, we made frequent visits to it, since it was really cold out. After riding from 9-4 we took a quick soak in the hot tub and now we are off for Utah.

Dan riding at Targhee.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005
The Beav.

Before I can really tell you about our day today you need to understand a little bit about snow. If you ski you have heard about Champagne Powder. Well here’s what that really means. There is a method for determining how light snow is, to do this you measure the water content. An area or an avalanche center, will measure the snow in a cylindrical container, the container is capable of assessing the inches of water in the snow. So if 10” fall and the water content is 1” then you divide 1” by 10” and you get 10% snow. Champagne is generally thought to be anything less than 10% snow. So basically the lower the percentage the lighter, and by my way of thinking the better, the snow.

If you are not familiar with the sensation of riding in Champagne then know this, it can make even the biggest hack feel like they are a rock star on the slopes. A single day of riding in Champagne Powder has resulted in throngs of people abandoning friends, family and careers to ski the rest of their lives. Today we skied 17” of 5% snow. In scientific terms this is known as heaven.

The shiny crystals you see here are surface hoar. The winter equivelant of dew. It forms on cold clear nights, and leads to blue bird days. Surface hoar is what makes snow sparkle on days like today.

Unfortunately our fantastic day comes at a hefty price. I am not referring to the $30 lift tickets (really a screaming deal) or the $9.00 lunch (also a screaming deal), but to the debt we now owe to the person who turned us onto Beaver Mountain. That person is the one person you never want to owe, Brother Pat. You see until very recently Pat lived in Logan, Utah. For years he’s been calling us and leaving messages like “you punks, hope you had fun skiing that inch over there in Colorado, I just rode 20 at the Beav.” Well until today I didn’t know how much of a dig this truly was. The Beav is fabulous! Too bad for Brother Pat, he lives in Moab now.

Here are some pictures from our great day.

Dan tuckin in the trees.

Me in my happy place.

One of the runs takes you trough an old burn area.

Me still happy.

This picture makes me smile, an untracked tree line, what's not to love. Even though this picture doesn't look very steep, I promise the trees at Beaver Mountain are really nicely pitched, making for fun fast turns.

Dan? Where'd you go?

Red Mountain/ Rossland, BC

2005-02-12T18:14:00.000-07:00

Well we did it, we drove to Canada even though everyone told us there was no snow here. Unfortunately THEY were right, and worse, according to The Weather Channel, The Farmer’s Almanac and the Canadian Avalanche Center there is no snow in the foreseeable future. That is with the possible exception of Saturday when there is a 20% chance of flurries. But do not be dismayed, ever the optimists, we are happy to report that BC is only a short two-day drive away from Utah and thus powder.

The new revised plan is to ski Red Mountain on Saturday, maybe Fernie on Sunday and then retreat to the one place in North America that is set to be dumped upon for the next ten days, our old stomping grounds, Southwestern Colorado.

What a strange twist of fate it is that as much as we tried to get out and experience the rest of North America, we keep getting pulled back home. Is this a sign? Are we meant to be in Durango? Well you may rest assured that it will take a mighty big frying pan to beat that message into us if this is really the case.

We knew things were really getting bleak when we went into the Albertsons north of Spokane and the 70 something year-old checker commented upon learning that we were not from there, “I sure hope you didn’t come all this way to ski.” I laughed…to keep from crying.

This is one of the tree runs on the north side of Red, not so good right now. See all of the ice?

We got to Rossland this morning and visited the ski area right off. First let me tell you that this is the place! If there was even a slight chance that it would snow here in the next few weeks or so, we would buy passes and settle in. Alas, as I said before there is no hint of snow, in fact rain is much more likely. Red Mountain is a glade/tree/powder skiers dream come true, our dream come true. Except, it would seem, this month and perhaps this year. The Mountain is quaint, and friendly. It has produced Canadian Olympiads and was recently ranked in the top 25 ski towns by Powder (I think) magazine, and the #1 by Canada’s Ski magazine.

We learned that this was the first ski lift in Canada. Yup, it is still running.

The town nestled a mere ridge line away is small, charming and utterly gear toward the hard-core, live it-love it, no friends on a powder day, skiing way of life. There are 4000 acres of slack country (lift accessed backcountry) accessible from the top of Red. There are acres upon acres of epic, beautiful cross country trails, some leading right back to town. For goodness sake its Main Street is four blocks long and it has 4 coffee shops on it, none of which are giant US corporate chains! I am meant to live here!

To make this decision even harder on us there is the fact that Red Mountain offers, free RV camping complete with electrical hookups, and not in the boondocks somewhere but right up front, perhaps 50 yards from the lift. They will even allow you to buy day passes and then credit the cost of the passes towards a season’s pass should you later decided to buy one.

This is the run you can take back to Rossland.

So to recap, we are on the doorstep of our dream ski area and town. We have free ski-in/ Ski-out camping and the ability to use our electric heater to keep us nice and toasty. We can buy no-risk day passes and turn them in for a season’s pass when it becomes cost effective to do so. We love the town, more so than any other that we have visited (save for maybe Sayulita), and we pre-bought beer this time, so we could even afford to drink here. Sounds like our idea of Mecca wouldn’t you say? Except there is no snow. Why God, why???

As our dear friend Erik Wienk is prone to saying when something he’s done goes array, “the blueprint was SO good.”

Rachel's first ever Magic Carpet ride.

To drown our current sorrows we opted to drive north and spend the night at Ainsworth Hot Springs. This place is gorgeous, it is located right alongside Kootenay Lake and surrounded by mountains. Camping here runs $5/ night and a soak is $4.60 U.S. Tonight we will soak and drink and pray for a snowy miracle.

Saturday

Ainsworth was great and made for a nice distraction from our woes. The springs boast a 150’ long horseshoe shaped cave, which has in its depths the mother spring and acts as a hot springs/ sauna. It is fantastic. We tried to take pictures inside, but the steam made it very difficult.

Yesterday we soaked in the morning then drove over to Whitewater Ski Area, outside of Nelson. Yet another area that looks like it could be great if only there was snow. With our depression mounting by the moment we returned to Rossland. The base of Red is covered in frozen granular; it looks like mid April snow, not February.

Across the street from the mountain is the Rock Cut Restaurant and Bar where we spent last night drinking jugs (Canadian for pitchers) and chatting it up with some locals. They assured us is has to snow, although they are all banking on March and calling February a loss.

The 20% chance of flurries seems to have turned into a 100% chance of partly cloudy skies with no chance of precipitation. Today we will ride granular and appreciate the water proofness of our ski gear, while touring what was to be our home this winter. We have set a 2pm deadline for the next decision to be made. Stay, go to Fernie or go home and ski SW Colorado, we shall see.

5:38pm

We had a really fun day at Red. It was the kind of day that was fun because we were exploring a new area, and because we were only there for one day. It would cease to be fun after a few days. We met up with a ten year-old Rossland native who described the conditions as such, "the snow is really bad, but the skiing is tolerable." He was right, as long as we stuck to groomed green and blue runs, we had fun.

Today made us realize more than ever that Red is a fantastic ski area. If we could have on a day like today, I can only imagine the sheer joy a powder day here would bring. We are already planning for next winter's trip up here. This year, however was not meant to be.

A quick call to meredith assured us that it is currently snowing back home and that the winter is shaping up to be an epic one. Finally we have received all of the signs needed. We are tucking tail and heading south. I post this from just north of Spokane.

If we try hard we can be skiing powder in Utah by Tuesday.

Which way do we go from Jackson Hole?

2005-02-09T07:40:00.000-07:00

Those less hardy, (or is that fool hardy), than ourselves might re-think heading north after receiving first hand accounts of the blue ice phenomenon sweeping the Northwest. Still others might retreat to the champagne powder of Southwestern Colorado after being offered free Jackson Hole passes with the caveat of "you can have them, but you won't want to use them". There are some who would see a sudden electrical problem, a faltering marine battery and an illuminated check engine light as divine intervention. But not us. We press on, heading for the icy north with nothing but a faltering truck and a battery that can only heat us for half a night to back us up.

After losing an hour in Craig, Colorado, which resulted in the blowing of 10 fuses, the purchase of a new in-cab inverter and an unsatisfying chat with the Dodge dealer, we pressed on for Little America, Wyoming. You may remember this place from the very beginning of our journey. Little America bills itself as the largest truck stop in North America; it even has its own post office, affording it township status.

This morning while eating in Little America's diner I read the story of how this "Oasis" came to be. Seems the founder owned the land and one night got caught in a storm forcing him to survive a night out with no shelter or food. He proclaimed in his despair that someone should build a place where one could obtain shelter, a fire and a hot meal here on this god forsaken patch of land. Thus was born Little America. Now you can get a room, a latte, a pepperoni log, some of that fake speed truck drivers use and even kitschy Wyoming trinkets, all while filling up at one of their 60+ fuel pumps. Now that's a good time.

Jackson, WY
From our little haven along the I-80 corridor we headed back to Jackson. The lure of good friends and seeing the only mountain that has ever scared my husband was strong. We made camp at Landa and Keith's house again. Dan paid our rent by haying Landa's horses in the mornings and wrangling Raymond, the pet cow, out of the hay shed.

Dan the Cow Whisperer.

Dan went backcountry skiing with Mike and Carol (of Grand Canyon fame). On Sunday Dan, Carol and I went snow shoeing behind Landa's house.

Views from the snow shoeing tour. (This photo was taken by Dan, as was the barn one above, see he doesn't JUST drive ;)

That afternoon we settled in and watched six hours straight of television, The Super bowl. This probably is equal to all of the other TV we have seen in seven months.

Monday we skied Jackson Hole. It was my first time there. What a mountain! Like everywhere besides from whence we came, they need snow, but you can still have fun and I could see how amazing this place must be on a powder day.

Dan reviewing the trail map.

Me a the top of the tram. The ride and views are equally impressive.

There is an RV friendly lot at the ski area. We paid $10 for a ski in/ ski out parking spot. No frills, but a level space and only steps away from the Mangy Moose a classic après ski bar. Apparently the cost to park overnight is $10, the price to "camp" is $40. We "parked".

As the last post and its amendments alluded to, we are at somewhat of a loss for where to go right now. Our plan was always to return to Rossland, BC for the winter. We intended to spend about 3 months skiing Red Mountain and immersing ourselves in this charming Canadian town. However, due to a serious lack of snow, and an abundance of rain, we are lacking the excitement we once had for this part of the trip. We have weighed all of your suggestions, as well as some other options, and have decided to stick to the plan for now. Currently we are outside of Missoula, MT. We should be in Rossland by Friday.

We are going to ski Red, see how it is and make up our minds from there. Spending the remainder of ski season in Canada is an expensive endeavor for us which is a big part of the decisions we are trying to make. To stay in Rossland, we would need to buy seasons passes to the mountain and most likely rent an apartment.

We may decided that this isn't the year to live in BC, in which case we will do a quick ski tour of some of the BC mountains we have always wanted to ride, and then retreat to Colorado. Otherwise we will tuff it out in the great not-so-white north. Either way I am certain we will be able to make the most of it.

P.S. Shameless Plug: have you noticed the ads below here? See how well they correspond to whatever I have been writing about recently? Well if you click on them you can learn more and help us fill our diesel tank. Since putting the ads on just over a month ago we have earned $60 from your clicks. Keep clicking-it costs you nothing and may just help us get to wherever the heck it is we are going.

2/10/05
WOW!!! You are all clicking away it seems. Thanks and I hope you are getting something useful or entertaining out of the ads. We have earned about two tanks of diesel now :)

Our beloved Wolf Creek Ski Area is owned by the Pitcher family. Also owned by a Pitcher, is Discovery Ski Area outside of Anaconda, MT. This is not the year to plan your family vacation there but, this place has serious potential! We will be back.
As this picture of Anaconda shows, as we go further and further north, the snow gets less and less. Uh-oh.

The Aspen Eddy

2005-02-03T13:40:00.000-07:00

Voting results:
So far we have a vote for Cerritos, one generic go surfing vote, one for Yuma, one for and against Mt. Bohemia, and one for returning to Durango (I think- or is D-town too good for us "sorry slobering drunks hiding it behind an RV facade white trash barrel racing on skis no good vala-dick-torian gibber promoting movie star smilin bling, bling worthless, best friends a chump could have" types). Utah is a good suggestion, but alas Brother Pat lives there so that's out.

So in summary that's two votes for surfing, three for the 4 Corners states, and a nullified Mt. Bohemia vote. I was hoping for a more decisive spread here folks. Who else has an idea?? Mom- I see no suggestions for good old Ohio. Don,Sandra, where is the "anywhere is fine just get a job you idot brains", request? Brook, I was hoping you'd vote for a trip across the lake, I hear Austria's got snow.

Keep the suggestions coming. We are in Jackson Hole today and the snow is not falling- so unless Rossland is experiencing its own weather phenom- things are still not looking good.

Once back in Aspen we found ourselves stuck in an eddy. For those of you who are not familiar with river terminology, an eddy is a (usually) calm spot in a river where the water swirls back upstream thus creating an opportunity to slow your boat down safely, or in the case of big rivers, a dangerous spot which can require a helicopter to get you out of. I am happy to report that we were able to pull free from the Ahhhspen eddy with out the use of a helicopter, but just barely.

The view from Brook, Bjorn and Kip's ranch, otherwise known as the eddy.

Brook, Bjorn and Kip live on a ranch in Old Snowmass. From their living room you can see Snowmass Mountain and many other mountains which frame a beautiful snow filled valley below. Their house is hard to leave, very hard. The view is stunning, the company fine and as long as free lift tickets continued to appear, we were hard pressed to find a reason to leave.

Sunday Dan and I rode Snowmass, which is a very snowboarder friendly mountain. They had received some snow and the conditions were fantastic. Monday, Kip, Lexi, Blades, Dan and I rode at Aspen Highlands, again there was fresh snow and fantastic conditions. Dan and I hiked the Highlands Bowl for the first time.

The snow cat takes you about 1/5 of the way up the bowl, your feet take you the rest of the way.

Dan and I at the top of the Highland Bowl.

Tuesday we got really stuck in the eddy and never left the ranch. Kip had the day off and we enjoyed being utterly lazy. Dan lost miserably at a game of Risk, he learned the hard way not to invade Europe when your wife controls that continent. Kip and I finally called a draw after almost three hours, and our interest, had been lost. We ventured out once for about a half hour to throw the Frisbee for Kip’s dog, but otherwise were absolutely, blissfully, useless.

Skiing the Higland Bowl.

Wednesday we again rode at Highlands. After riding we enjoyed a few malted beverages at The Endeavor, the local's bar for Highland’s employees. Afterwards we went into Ahhhspen proper for a nice dinner. Thanks so much to our fabulous Ahhspen hosts and friends, you almost got us to stay ;)

The Endeavor is the bar where all of the Highlands instructors go after work. Thanks to Olga and Sarah for the use of the mug.

Now we are heading north, although we aren’t really all that sure this is a good idea. It seems that B.C. is severely lacking in snow, and has an abundance of rain. Did you know that Mt. Hood in Oregon is closed? Closed!!! It is on a glacier for goodness sake! This does not bode well for Northwestern ski areas. But alas, this was our plan all along and we are sticking to it, at least for now.

Or are we???? We are open to suggestions... Where do you think we should spend the rest of the winter? Click Here to tell us.

Bald Eagle outside of Carbondale.

Crested Butte

2005-01-29T09:33:00.000-07:00

Crested Butte is a fantastic little town. We rolled in around 4pm on Thursday which was a full hour and a half before our scheduled date. I have been suffering painful and cold snowboard boots for far too long, so with our new found wealth we decide that I have earned new boots. We visited Colorado Border at the base of Crested Butte and had what I would call a perfect buying experience.

A few days before we had tried to buy boots in Aspen and had what I would call a “Pretty Woman” shopping experience. We were flat out ignored by the sales people, I am guessing because of how we looked, we entered their store in Carharts and t-shirts. The couple who entered after us in their Diesel Jeans and Prada shoes were immediately greeted and assisted. Now a $300 purchase in Aspen may be just a drop in the bucket to the local retail economy, but in my world (even with our amended budget) this amounts to six days on the road. This is a major purchase, and I refuse to make it at an establishment that will not acknowledge me.

Back to Crested Butte, after my fully satisfying retail therapy experience we ventured down to The Eldo, to meet our friend Eddy. You may remember Eddy from our time in Sayulita. From there we went next door to Baccanale for our first really schmancy meal out in seven months. Eddy had a yet unused gift certificate and we took full advantage. Then we settled in for a long winter’s nap before an even longer day of riding.

We powered up at Camp Four Coffee before heading up to the mountain.

There is a free bus system in C.B. so you never need to drive.

Prior to this trip I had never been to Crested Butte before. The mountain is legendary for steeps and craggy shoots. The past few years have been rough on the mountain though and less and less snow was falling here. This year however, while we were skiing 44” at Wolf Creek and 18+ at Telluride, Crested Butte was receiving eight feet of snow. This made for a fantastic day, as did the company. Eddy, his brother Elliot, Dan and myself all boarded the entire mountain. We even got to ride in the Teocalli bowl which had just opened for the first time in eleven years and the first time ever to the general public. The coverage was great, the mountain challenging and the views are stunningly beautiful.

Remenents of the 8' dump.

For some silly reason I chose not to take my camera to the Mountain. While it was nice to not have a pack on while riding, I kicked myself all day because the scenery was so stunning. From the main lift you can see the town laid out on the valley floor and yesterday there were clouds inverted framing the town, with Mt. Gothic just peaking out behind. It was a truly great day.

We rode until 3:30 absolutely unable to coax our legs into cooperating for another run. Eddy and Elliot were fabulous hosts and mountain guides. Everyone we met here was charming and down to earth. This is a truly great mountain town.

Everyone in town rides bikes even in the winter.

One of the more eclectic buildings here.

From here we are returning to Aspen for a few days. Then we have some decisions to make...

Deer that joined us for lunch along the drive from Aspen to C.B.

Aspen to Crusty Butt

2005-01-27T21:34:00.000-07:00

We finished up our work week in Vail on Monday. The event went well as far as us lackeys could tell. On the last day of competition, I handed out the award check to Tanner Hall. The show airs on NBC, February 19th at 2pm, look for me during the Men’s half-pipe awards ceremony, that will be the back of my head in front of the check.

While parked here, we estimate the value of our camper went from about 10 grand to 2.5 million.

After we got off of work Monday night we found ourselves at the entrance to I-70 wondering which way to go. A quick check of www.onthesnow.com showed that Red Mountain, B.C. had lost snow!!! It seems the “Pineapple Express”, which hit the Northwest last week, hit there too. This did not inspire a “hurry up and go” attitude in us. A couple phone calls later and we opted to turn left on the freeway and head for Aspen (pronounced ahhhhhspen, by the beautiful people). Aspen is home to our dear friends Brook, Bjorn, Kip and Blades, all of Grand Canyon fame.

The gate to the Aspen Ranch where our friends live.

Once we’d arrived at the most expensive zip code in Colorado, we settled in for a few days of laughs, laundry and snow sliding. Tuesday Dan, Bjorn and I were delightfully lazy, although we did manage to leave the house to run an errand and to meet up with Blades at their favorite watering hole the Endeavor. While at the Endeavor we drank a pint for our dear friend Sarah who would have been there too, had she not chosen to spend the winter at the South Pole (thanks for the use of your mug Swiller). Wednesday Blades played scenic tour guide and showed us all over Aspen Highlands. It hasn’t snowed in a while, but the runs were surprisingly soft and were well groomed, we had a blast.

The forecast is calling for some snow in the next few days, but the storm looks to be going a bit south of Aspen. We have decided to visit friends in Crested Butte for a couple days in the hope of catching some powder down there. This is a bit out of the norm for us since it is much further than our 100 miles or less detour rule allows for. Since Independence Pass is closed for the winter the drive will take us about five hours. A long drive when you consider that CB is about 20 miles from Aspen Mountain as the crow flies.

After a few days in the Butte we plan to return to Ahhhspen for a couple more days with the Canyon Folk before heading north, or west, or wherever we think there may be snow.

Foot notes: You may have noticed that I have not been posting our expenses for some time now. Basically this is what our financial situation boils down to…. We had budgeted for $40/ day. Realistically we have spent more like $50/day. However, never fear, our recent spate of employment has put us ahead of the game and we feel that there is still plenty of money to carry us through June, and perhaps a bit longer.

If you are planning a similar trip, I still believe you can travel for a year on $40/ day, just not as much as we have. Choosing fewer places to go, and driving less would have allowed us to stick to our budget. Additionally if gas prices reverted back to say… 75 cents a gallon and you never spent a dime on alcohol, you could do it ;)

Concerning the question that EVERYONE asks us…
We are fairly confident that we will end out trip next summer and settle down somewhere other than Durango. The place and length of time we will remain there are still to be determined. That is as much as I can tell you for now.

US Open Free Skiing/ Vail, Colorado

2005-01-20T18:26:00.000-07:00

So far this week has been a lot of fun. The guys we are working with are great, the weather has been fantastic and the skiers are amazing. Most of the time we have been hanging ski fence, erecting scaffolding and placing sponsor signage wherever we think it might get some air time. Dan says we are pilots, "we pick it up here and pile it (pilot) it over there". That about sums it up.

One of our piles and the sun setting behind it.

Basically we get to "work" at 7-ish in the morning and call it a day around 6pm. Then we head out for dinner and a glass of relaxation before pouring ourselves into bed. It feels really good to put in a full day of manual labor, while being outside and hanging out with all of the great people we have met. I almost wish I had a job again, ALMOST.

Here is the start gate, which likes to deflate onto the course and skiers from time to time, and the sponsor signs.

Scaffolding and if you look closely there is a skier up in the air there somewhere.

This is the corral, where the Slope Style and Big Air competitions will end, as well as the base of operations for the event.

We are here through the weekend. The real competition starts tomorrow and someday this will be airing on NBC.

Here are some shots of the skiers who competed in the qualifying rounds Wednesday and Thursday.

Uh-oh!!

Telluride Part Two

2005-01-16T14:13:00.000-07:00

The snow finally subsided and the snow got a bit harder and bumpier, but it was still a fantastic week. Lizard Head Pass opened Friday night and we were able to go over to Rico for a night in a warm house.

Our camper is nice and toasty, we have recently put some time and money into further insulating it, and Dan carpeted it while we were in Durango. Sometimes however, it gets a bit brisk outside and the windows freeze over no matter how much insulation you put on them. On these nights our bodies are nice and warm but our heads, which are right up against the front window, get cold. Jamie and Eric’s house was a nice break from the hot/ cold, hot/ cold trend of the previous nights’ boondocking in Mountain Village.

Saturday we ventured out of the warmth of their house to enjoy Rico’s “Hippy Dip”. This is a ramshackle hot tub/ hot spring that the locals keep up. There was a vague path out to the dip, we stumbled the half mile or so, in very deep snow to enjoy a few hours of soaking. We lingered a very long time because we were all dreading the exit, it was no more than 5 degrees outside and our clothes were strewn about on various trees and in the snow, burrrrrrrrrrrr!

Our favorite watering hole. The Ranch on Mountain at Telluride.

Inside the bar.

Our buddy Travis pulling of his signature move the Air McKrakin, kids don't try this at home!

While in Telluride we got to see lots of friends. It is hard to leave because it is so familiar but, like I said last time, we have to get up to Vail. I am writing this from the truck as we speed along I-70. For the next week we are grunt laborers for the US Freeskiing Championships. This should prove to be a busy, fun and interesting week. I doubt we will get much freeskiing in ourselves, but even we have to work every once in a while.

Dan, Colin and Travis bashing the bumps.

Telluride

2005-01-13T14:12:00.000-07:00

Note: "A little help from our friends". As I elude to at the end of this post, we will be in Vail next week. If any of you know of a good winter camping spot in Vail or Avon would you email(underagedrvers@yahoo.com) us please.

After Pagosa we retreated back to Durango. We spent the weekend with Dan’s parents and his sister Tracy who is visiting from her home in Thailand. We are so very thankful that Tracy is safe at home and that her Boyfriend Mot is safe in Thailand.

Dan and I enjoyed an absolutely non-productive weekend. Once we had plopped ourselves in front of the Goddard’s 60” jumbo-tron there was no moving us. We do not have television in our rig, this was a conscious decision, but as a result we are unable to tear ourselves away from the boob-tube whenever there is one around. I am happy to report that nothing has changed in the almost seven months we have been without a TV.

Monday morning we hit the road for Telluride. It had been dumping in Southwestern Colorado for almost a week and we were a bit worried about being able to access our friend’s driveway in Rico, outside of Telluride. When we got to Rico we realized there was no way we would be able to get to anyone’s house, the entire town was snowed in. The main road had snow piles 7’ high down the center lane. We pressed on to Mountain Village/ Telluride because we were sure we could get there.

Our friend Jason is building a house in Mountain Village and he bravely disobeyed the myriad of covenants that address overnight camping, to allow us to park at his unfinished house. The snow just kept falling and by Tuesday all of the passes out of here were closed. Our friends Jamie and Eric (see Grand Post) had invited us to stay with them in Rico, as it turned out they got snowed into T-ride and ended up staying with us.

Three days later and the pass is still closed!! Last night we learned that we got out of Wolf Creek in the nick of time, since that pass was closed for five days! All of our friends up there got snowed-in at the mountain with no clean clothes or toothbrushes. We fared much better. As a result of the pass to Rico being closed some of our friends managed to procure some pretty fancy accommodations. One such friend got a room at The Peaks and Golden Door Spa, which is where I spent this morning. I am soaked and steamed to perfection and boy did I need a day of pampering.

The view, or lack there of, from our camper.

Along with the pass closures and power outages this storm brought with it, came the snow. Blessed, light, powdery snow and feet of it. I have skied Telluride many times, I even had a pass here last year, but never before had I had a powder day worthy of this mountain. Telluride is known for its steeps and bumps. It can handle a ton of snow, because it is steep enough. Yesterday was an epic Telluride powder day, the kind of day I will be talking about for years to come.

Actually Tuesday was such a day as well. So here we are yet again wondering how we continue to dumb-luck our way into the greatest situations. We are having a hard time moving on. We have T-ride passes, a result of that ski-swap we did back in September, and there is so much snow here, that leaving seems silly. A guy we met in Sayulita told us his motto was “never leave fun to have fun.” This is resonating with us right now.

But fear not dear reader we will be moving on this Sunday. Yet again we have proven to be ever employable and we are heading up to Vail for a week’s work. This too should make for enjoyable reading because we are working a ….well you’ll just have to wait and see.

My Perfect Day

2005-01-07T21:19:00.000-07:00

I do not profess to know how one goes about writing horoscopes, but here's what mine must have been for today.

Cancer
Today the cosmos will align for your benefit. Go outside and reap your rewards.

And so it was, the moon, stars, and sun we all perfectly aligned and I was rewarded. In this case the elements in order included:

Our waking up at 10,000' less than a football field's length away from the lift.
A cloudless bluebird sky.
And this snow report:
Summit Base Depth : 110 inches
Last 24 Hours : 5 inches
Last 48 Hours : 34 inches
Last 72 Hours : 43 inches

This is what the view from the first chair looks like.

There is one other element that made this morning perfect. Wolf Creek Ski Area is situated at the top of Wolf Creek Pass. The pass is avalanche prone. When the mountain receives a lot of snow in a short time (say almost 4' in 3 days) the Colorado Department of Transportation will close the pass to drop bombs and trigger slides thus making the pass safe for travel. As such if one were to have camped in the parking lot of said ski area, and the ski area received enough snow that the pass was closed all morning, then one might be able to ski waste deep, 3% powder virtually alone! This was such a day.

We skied for hours and never crossed another track. It was a hero day, when you feel like you could be a pro and every turn feels like you are floating. There is something absolutely amazing about skiing and snowboarding. Here you are outside in the cold and snow, enjoying the silence and beauty of your surroundings, while most people huddle in their homes during the winter. I don't think I could ever be a snowbird, days like today are too special to me.

Dan skiing The Peak.

Wolf Creek still uses old fashioned tickets, we loved that today's word was DEEP, how appropriate!

Scott "Captain" Kay, Wolf Creek's Ski Patrol Director and Dan's boss.

The view from atop the Treasure Lift.

After a day of riding some fantastic powder my legs were throbbing. But wait the perfect day mustn't include leg cramps, what ever could we do? Well folks Pagosa Springs is a mere 30-ish miles from the ski area and what a Spring Pagosa has.

The Springs is the worlds deepest and largest hot spring. It has 17 pools all situated alongside the San Juan River. We were met at The Springs by Paula Miser who treated us to a tour, and a soak. I have been to many hot springs and The Springs is quite possibly my favorite, at least I can say it is my favorite commercial spring.

The Springs is a full fledged resort, complete with spa, salon and hotel. Unfortunately they do not have RV accommodations but it is worth a splurge to stay here for a night. Guests get unlimited access to the hot springs as well as a nice room which is heated by the great spring itself.

Ever seem a palapa with snow on it before?

After our soak my legs had just enough burn left to remind me how great my day was and I melted back into our rig for the drive to Durango.

My perfect day even included working on our blog, which has become such a treat for me.

Thanks to all of you who replied to the last post and if you haven't already please take a moment and add a comment.

Note: Darn! I return every email we get and so I have been sitting here replying to all of your posts. Finally while replying to Peggy from Ridgecrest, CA, I noticed that the return email was to "anonymous-comment@blogger.com", so I am gonna go out on a limb here and bet that none of you got my replies. This is a shame because they were all fantastically witty, literary, masterpieces!
If you would care for a reply from either myself or Dan please include an email address in your posting. Thanks to all for taking the time to write in, it is appreciated, as are your words of encouragement.

First Tracks

2005-01-04T21:10:00.000-07:00

Another Note: Darn! I return every email we get and so I have been sitting here replying to all of your posts. Finally while replying to Peggy from Ridgecrest, CA I noticed that the return email was to "anonymous-comment@blogger.com", so I am gonna go out on a limb here and bet that none of you got my replies. This is a shame because they were all fantastically witty, literary, masterpieces!
If you would care for a reply from either myself or Dan please include an email address in your posting. Thanks to all for taking the time to write in, it is appreciated, as are your words of encouragement.

Note: According to our hit counter we have recieved over 20,000 hits. Who are all of you people?
Please take a minute and click the comment button below. Tell us who you are, how you found us and where you are from. It would be greatly appreciated.

January 4, 2005
D-town

Our friend Katie, one of Wolf Creek's avalanche dogs.

It is always nice to be home. We spent Sunday and Monday enjoying the fruits of our labor, riding Wolf Creek. I hate to play it up too much for fear that you will all invade our favorite ski hill, but Wolfie has the best snow in Colorado and is a fantastic place to enjoy champagne powder and tree skiing. It is still a family owned resort and it has small area charm. We managed to hit it on two fantastic days. Part of Wolf Creek’s charm is that there is no “resort” there. No condos, no Gucci stores, no spas, just a ski hill and some great people. We were permitted to camp in the parking lot, which was a real treat. Our two best runs were from the top down to our truck, gotta love ski-in/ ski-out camping.

Our camping spot.

In addition to lift access runs, Wolf Creek has great terrain for those who are willing to hike just a little bit from the top of the lift.

Our first days of riding were remarkably painless. Surfing is a fantastic upper body work-out, but cardio or legs, not so much. Then throw in 10,000 feet and 20 degrees, and we didn’t have very high expectations for our riding ability. Somehow though, everything fell right into place. We were able to breath, even with the altitude, and our legs managed to hold us up and carry us down the slopes.

Me, barely holding on, maybe my legs are a bit out of shape???

Dan enjoying our ride home.

Currently we are in Durango waiting for the truck to be repaired. Our major fears, that the transmission was dying and that the 4 wheel drive was caput, were for not. Seems only a bushing of some sort is out of kilter, no big deal. The only really bad part is that we have been dry docked here in Durango while huge flakes fall all around us. Fortunately we should be up and running tomorrow and on the slopes Thursday morning.

Coming home makes me homesick for my friends. The ONLY downside to our trip is the time I am missing with those I love. If you ever decide to do a trip like this you should know that this is the hard part. We are eternally blessed to have the most amazing group of friends, darn you all for being so cool, and making us miss you. We have made some fantastic new friends along the way, but nothing, and no one, can replace the people you have known all along. We are pretty sure that wherever we land come June, it won’t be Durango. This is a hard realization for us, but fear not, we assume that we will land some place so great that you will all want to visit us there.

Our winter sports require a bit more indoor storage. Our bathroom has been transformed into our ski gear closet.

You may notice that I had some free time to dedicate to the site today. I hope the new format is a bit easier to read. Also I did “sell out” and add an advertisement link in the middle. If you are so inclined you can click on the link and by doing so you will be making a contribution to "the fund". I think we get a half a cent per click, only payable after we have had $100 worth of clicks, so don’t think we are trying to turn this into a money making venture or anything. Perhaps if everyone clicks a link, everytime they visit, someday we'll earn enough for a tank of deisel, click away! If any of you are bothered by this, and are friends with publishers, pass our site along, once we get a book deal I promise to remove the link :)

Chapter Three

2005-01-01T13:07:00.000-07:00

January 1, 2005

Durango, Colorado.

We spent Christmas in Austin, Texas with Dan’s entire family. There are 16 Goddards now and we all convened on Brother Mike’s place for 3 days. After we had eaten all of Mike’s food, drank all of Tricia’s wine and generally outstayed our welcome we headed north. Dan and I managed to spend too much money in México, so we decided to pick up a few days of work.

En route we stopped by to visit Rachel's Godfather Rick and his wonderful wife Edith.

We made a pit stop in Durango to swap surfboards for snowboards and board shorts for polypropylene, and then made our way over to Wolf Creek Ski Area. Dan worked on Ski Patrol at Wolf Creek for eight years. Davey and Scott were nice enough to let him walk back into his old job for four days; they even let me teach some snowboard lessons. Flush with cash again we went back over to Durango to attend a party at Melissa and Jim Youseff’s home. Melissa is the daughter of Rose Marie, one of the Sayulita locals who terrorized us during our stay there. We decided to return the favor by classing down Jim and Melissa’s party, unfortunately we forgot that everyone in Durango goes to formal gatherings in Carharts so we just fit right in.

Last night for the New Year we attended the annual Mapel New Year’s Bash. Meredith and her family throw a heck of a party every year. Brother Pat came down from Utah to appall Meredith’s family and friends. Not to worry though, around midnight someone hid the gasoline and banned him from getting near the bonfire. Everyone escaped unscathed.

The Mapel's "cabin".

I have titled this post Chapter three. As I see it, our journey has four parts. The first was scouting and the Grand Canyon trip. Then part two was in Mexico, surfing and soaking up the sun and culture. Part three will be our winter sports chapter. Our plans are remaining fairly flexible; we intend to keep a close eye on the snow reports before committing to any one place. But for today the plan is to spend a few weeks skiing Colorado and visiting friends before heading up to British Columbia for the winter.

Happy New Year to all. If you are inspired to follow a similar path, then we hope that 2005 is the year you hit the road.

This is our niece Bridget opening one of her birthday presents. This photo was taken by our nephew Nate.

Happy Holidays to All.

2004-12-22T08:53:00.000-07:00

Feliz Navidad y Prospero Ano Nuevo, a todo.
Here a few new posts to last through the holidays. We are back in the states now, enjoying Christmas with the Goddards. Cheers to all.
Dan and Rachel.

December 19, 2004
Zacatecas

Friday evening we were reading up on the campgrounds in Torreón and Saltillo, which we were planning on staying at in the coming days. Neither place sounded very nice, or very interesting. Dan was glancing over our trusty AAA México map when his keen grasp on mathematics lead him to announce that Zacatecas would only add an hour per day to our driving time. Zacatecas was a city I had been sad to miss and factored heavily in our decision to take the Espanoza del Diablo road. I had wrongly assumed that it was an either/ or scenario. But we have a standing 100 mile rule. If something or someone we want to see is within 100 miles we are permitted to detour.

It is as such that I write this from the grand city of Zacatecas. I am so glad we made the decision to come here as this city is vastly different from the other parts of México we have visited. Zacatecas is a true Colonial Méxican city. It is steeped in history and has a very cosmopolitan feel.

The Cathedral, acoording to our Lonley Planet guide, is "the ultimate expression of Mexican baroque.

We camped right above the town at the Hotel de Bosque which has a fantastic view albiet a frustrating location. From the hotel you can see everywhere you want to go. The arial tram, to the mountain overlooking the city, is literally next door. Zacatecas, however, is a city of walls. The walls around the Teléferico (tram) and our hotel make it impossible to get to it by any way other than a half-mile walk around.

The El Cubo aqueduct.

Saturday we made camp around 2pm and then ventured into the city. We spent the entire day sightseeing. There are so many historical sights to see that you need more time than we had. We managed to see most of the area around the Cathedral and then ventured up to the Quinta Real Zacatecas. This place is maybe the coolest hotel I have ever seen, and if I had money I would be writing this from there. The hotel is built in the ruins of the Plaza de Toros San Padro, the bullring. The rooms are mixed in among the old bleachers; the bar is in the bull chutes. If anyone reading this has been wondering where to go for a fantastic vacation, might I suggest this city and this hotel. I made Dan promise to bring me back.

The concierge at Quinta Real was a delightful woman who gave us a much needed map of the city and recommended a restaurant for dinner. Her recommendation was right on and we feasted on the local specialties of Carne Adovada and Soupa Azteca. Dan got so caught up in the romance of the city that he even bought me flowers while I was away in el baño, this is greatly out of character for my beloved, and much appreciated by me. After dinner we got to see the city at night. What a sight!!! All of the historical buildings are lit up, as is La Bufa, the hill and church overlooking the city. If it is possible Zacatecas is even more beautiful at night.

This morning we rode the teléferico to La Bufa, but much to our dismay the entire hill was shrouded in fog. We toured the church, shops and museum and then walked down La Bufa back to the city center. Walking the streets of Zacatecas feels like you are in Spain. The streets are cobblestone and extremely narrow. Houses run flush with the streets, smooth, colorful walls broken up by ancient looking wooden gates. Taxis wiz past knowing which of the seemingly impassibly steep and narrow roads will get them to their destinations.

One of the very narrow streets.

Statue of Poncho Villa

Ruins of the Convento de San Fransisco.

Overall Zacatecas is not to be missed. It stands out from all of the other cities we have visited. Again we were the only gringos on the streets but we were welcomed bu all we met and greeted in English by many Mexican/ Americans who are here for the holidays. The city is riddled with cafés and coffee shops. The people are sophisticated and formal. We had a hard time re-adjusting to using the Usted form of Spanish, the formal form, and managed to butcher the language even more than normal.

I warn you...I went a bit door crazy.

This building is not painted, that is the real color of the stone used to build it.

We toured a few more churches and then decided to call it a day. Tonight we are camped on the outskirts of town at the Hacienda del Bosque. Tomorrow, assuming we stick to our plan we head for Saltillo and our noche final en México.

Adios Sayulita, Hola Durango

2004-12-21T13:52:00.000-07:00

December 17, 2004

Our last days in Sayulita were wonderful. We soaked up as much sun as we could and got in a few last surfing sessions. For our final dinner Bob, Sherry, Dan and I went over to Lorenzo and Estella’s house for family day. Tuesdays they close up the restaurant and have friends and family over for a potluck of sorts. It was a fantastic way to end our stay. Adrian drew us a Feliz Navidad card which we will treasure and we exchanged gifts with their family. Once again we are overwhelmed by the generosity shown to us by others.

Dan's last wave of the year.

It was with very heavy hearts that we left Sayulita Wednesday morning and headed north. Fortunately for us we spent the night in Teacapan which helped to ease the blow. Once again we were showered with fresh shrimp, fish and this time lobster, as well as copious amounts of cervezas. Unfortunately we couldn’t join in their fiesta for too long because we had a long day ahead of us and needed rest.

We had been hearing tales of the treacherous road through the mountains to Ciudad Durango. We had hemmed and hawed over driving it for weeks before settling on tackling the Calle de Espinoza del Diablo (The Devil’s Backbone).We awoke bright and early Thursday morning and hit the road. Nine hours later we had traveled roughly 230 miles. You read that right it took us nine hours! The Devil’s Backbone was all that we had heard and so much more.

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Right off the bat we got to take this little detour, through the river.

It is the most beautiful and terrifying road I have ever driven. And when I say I have driven, I mean Dan. Often people ask me what Dan does for the blog. Originally we had agreed to split writing duties 50/50, somewhere in the first weeks of the blog this was forgotten and Dan has never typed a single word of the text you read in hear. However, here is what Dan does. First he helps me remember details, names and times. He allows me to read the postings to him and we make corrections as a result. On occasion has been known to take a picture of me so I can prove to you all that I really exist. Most importantly however, Dan drives.

The "straight" part of the road.

I think I have mentioned before that we joke that Dan’s five years as a paramedic was practice for driving this rig. In the US we shared driving, although Dan still drove more than me. Since we hit Mexico I have not driven once. I would not have been able to drive El Espinoza because I had to close my eyes and pray as we navigated every blind switchback and met a semi barreling towards us in our lane. Next time you are complaining about paying taxes stop, and thank your lucky stars that we have shoulders on our roads in the US. Mexico does not believe in shoulders or guard rails.

Somewhere in the past few years I picked up a fear of mountain passes. This is a bit problematic seeing as how everywhere I want to go requires driving over them. None the less I am usually able to contain my panic. This was not one of those times. I honestly covered my eyes at every turn. I gasped a minimum of 50 times and seriously considered walking the rest of the road on at least two occasions. That said, and from the safety of this level parking spot, I am really glad we drove this way.
Daniel Lawrence Goddard, you are an excellent driver. Thank you.

The mountains, creeks and especially the tiny mountain pueblos were phenomenal. From the western turn off you immediately begin climbing. There are only 185 miles from the turn to Durango, but in those miles you cross every climate and ecological region of Mexico, all while going from sea level to 9200’. We climbed through cactus, Joshua Trees, conifer forests and even wild poinsettia fields. After you complete The Spine the road levels out and you enter a high desert plateau, and the temperature drops considerably. Just before you get to Durango you go through an area that for all intents and purposes could be Southwestern Colorado. Approaching Durango, Mexico from the west, looks almost exactly like driving into Durango, Colorado from the south. Dan and I were amazed by the similarities. Adding to this were the places we passed with familiar names like San Juan, Mesa Verde, Piedra and Santa Rita. It was a very strange sense of déjà vous.

This part looks just like the road between Cortez and Durango.

Here are a few signs I could stand to never see again after today's drive.

Our guide book talks only of the campground in Durango. We passed another one before getting to Durango, probably about 30 miles west. It was a park (I am not sure if it is state or national). From the road it looked like there were at least ten spots available. The entrance has a large white gate and there is a ropes course next to the campground. We passed many restaurants that I would guess would allow you to camp overnight if you ate there. Also there are many boondocking opportunities along the way.

Mary's Cocina, the restaurant we stopped in for lunch.

Dan enjoying a hot cup of Nescafe- I really didn't know they still made this stuff.

El Salto, a milling town on the west side of the pass.

We opted to head into Durango for the night. The Campo Mexico Hotel is a fine enough place. For 150 pesos ($15) a night we got a level spot with electricity and the key to a neighboring room for a bathroom and shower. The motel is located east of the city center by I’d guess 2 miles. A taxi to the plaza is only $15 pesos ($1.50). For the first time in months we had to use our sleeping bags last night, it was that cold.

Today we ventured into the city. We did a walking tour of the plaza and surrounding area. The entire day we did not see a single other gringo. It seems the tourist community has not found Durango yet. Even though this is not a tourist city we were treated very well and felt safe everywhere we went. I’ll stop jibber jabbering now and let the pictures tell the rest of the tale.

Plaza de Armas.

The Cathedral Basilica Menor built from 1695 1750.

A light sconce on the Teatro Victoria.

The Palacio de Gobierno is filled with murals depicting Mexico's history.

The Mercado.

Merchant in el mercado.

Our rig at the campground in Durango.

Someone tell Sandra Mapel that I took this picture for her.

Rellenos y Bicicletas

2004-12-13T09:01:00.000-07:00

With the prank wars over, Dan Meredith and I settled into a more civilized lifestyle. We surfed a bunch and enjoyed all that this charming town has to offer.

It has been a real treat for Dan and I to get to eat out a bunch. Our favorite lunch spot is the Torta Stand where for about $5 we can get two giant sandwiches, and two smoothies. Dinner we can choose from the Carne Factory, a roadside taco stand, where dinner for 3 runs $8, a family style Mexican restaurant on the Plaza, dinner for 3 $6.50 or an array of fish taco joints.

The pan lady who brings fesh baked goddies to the Park every morning.

The Torta Stand Owner.

But our favorite place is Estella and Lorenzo’s, which is just up from the campground. Estella makes the BEST chili relleno I have ever had, and I fancy myself a bit of a connoisseur. We went there for dinner Wednesday night, the rellenos lived up tot heir reputation and we lingered long enough to pay our respects to the chef. While there we learned that Lorenzo is a biker. In fact he is the local bicycle repair man, and he is the coach for the local mountain biking team. His son Adrian is the Infantile Champion of Mexico. The Infantile category goes up to 15 years old, Adrian is 14 but this year he was bumped up to the Junior level.

We love mountain biking and asked if we could join them on a ride. Better yet they offer tours complete with front suspension bikes and any needed accessories. Cost of the trip, a donation to the bike team. We set up a date for the next morning, just a 1-2 hour tour.

Adrian with his trophies.

We met them at 8am. Adrian led us over the roads and passes between Sayulita and Punta de Mita which is 7 miles away along the connecting road. Lorenzo held up the rear with me, all the time giving me some sorely needed pointers which I am eternally grateful for. We wound up and down along the beaches then through the jungle, past mango plantations and farms. We rode past a rattle snake and even stopped for a coke in a small village along our route. Our one hour trip stretched into four and we rode somewhere between 15 and 20 miles. Lorenzo and Adrian both speak English very well and were amazingly tolerant of our broken Spanish. The ride and spending the day with them, was maybe my favorite thing we have done this entire trip.

Our group stopping for a Mexican Coke.

Me bringing up the rear.

Afterwards we made our donation in money and whatever cycling gear we could round up. Dan even sacrificed his favorite cycling shorts for the cause, essentially anything we figured we could replace we left for them.

The next day we ventured up to Chacala, another surf spot. This was our first official surfing skunk. From all accounts Chacala can be a heavenly place with a long safe left break. We hired a water taxi to take us out to the break, but the swell was all wrong and the waves were breaking only about 50’ off of the sea urchin covered rocks. Because we are all in our 30’s now we were wise enough to realize that losing $20 for a water taxi to nowhere, is far superior to being dropped off for three hours at a very scary break with no shoreline easily accessible. We tucked tail and returned to the truck. From there we drove back down to Burrows a much friendlier break for the likes of us.

Meredith left yesterday, but don’t you fear she will be reprising her role at New Years when we visit her again. Dan and I went to the big PV grocery store to stock up on some of the foods we love down here.

Once we returned to Sayulita it was time for my relleno lesson. Estella welcomed me into her home while she was preparing the food for the restaurant. She showed me how she makes the rellenos from start to finish. She would accept no help from me; I couldn’t even do the dishes. I stayed for 3 hours. I was fed cookies and a traditional rice drink. We talked about her kids, about how much she loves cooking and how well she and Lorenzo work together.

Lorenzo told me that he realizes Estella is the chef, she is a fantastic cook. He is there to help her, so he chops vegetables and helps clean up. They run an amazingly clean and conscientious kitchen. Because they are cyclists they are very health conscious, they cut out fats and use only fresh products. I was truly touched by their generosity and their willingness to not only tell me how to make this, but their insistence on showing me how.

Lorenzo said his role is to be social, greeting the patrons in the restaurant and making contacts to advance the bike team. People have donated everything from cycling socks to the full suspension, disc brake, Santa Cruz bike that Adrian races on. Lorenzo estimates that it costs 1500 pesos (about $150) per kid to go to the races, the costs are in entry fees, lodging, meals etc. Often they cannot take all of the kids who want to race because there is not enough money.

Recently they were invited to compete in a 12-hour race, but they can’t afford headlamps for the riders to wear during the dark times of the race, so they could not participate. From what we have seen the kids love Lorenzo and he is a fantastic coach. His team has lots of talent, but lacks funding. I wish I had more to give, but alas all I can do is tell you about it and hope that something more may come of that. You can learn more about them at :http://www.sayulitalife.com/sayulitabiking.htm

The past 12 days have been the Virgin de Guadalupe Festival. A fascinating festival that last 12 nights. We were fortunate enough to get to attend evening mass, where I was overwhelmed by the number of familiar faces I saw. You really can get to know an entire community in six weeks. We saw the parades and enjoyed nightly fireworks displays.

We have only a few days left here and I am desperately trying to soak it all in before we go. On that note I will pull my nose out of the notebook and enjoy the town.

I'll Get You My Pretty!

2004-12-13T08:51:00.000-07:00

December 13, 2004

In the last week we have been really busy. Brother Pat kept us entertained for five days, friends Ryan and Jonika made a guest appearance, Meredith moved in with us and The Locals waged a war that severely disrupted my sleeping patterns.

During Brother Pat’s visit we surfed and surfed and surfed. At night we ate and ate and ate and then drank a little too. One night early on in Pat’s visit he and our friend Bob, one of The Locals, went out on the town. Late that night they had a moment of what I refer to as “Pacifico logic”. This allowed them to think that if they came into the trailer park at midnight yelling Dan’s name, he would hop right up and join in their debauchery. Dan did not leave the safety of our bed, he’s a good boy, but Bob had unknowingly kicked of the, “Who can wake whom up more often” pranks of the following week.

The very next night, Pat, Meredith Dan and I decided it would be a good idea for us to take a dip in Jamie and Rose Marie’s pool late at night, again “Pacifico logic” at work. We were busted about five minutes in. Jamie and Rose Marie were both principals and we had just been caught by them. We fully expected a swatting or detention, but instead we were punished with tequila shots and good conversation. Bob was at home recovering from the previous night’s events, so of course we had to call him repeatedly to wake him up, tit for tat if you will. He remained strong and never answered the phone, but we had defiantly sent a message.

Meredith’s birthday was the next night, we threw her a dinner party up at Bob’s house, since we were all there, no pranking was done on this evening and once we went our separate ways we all slept soundly.

We said goodbye, yet again, to Brother Pat. Don’t worry he will continue his reoccurring role in a post a few weeks from now when we meet up for Christmas. Since we were already in Puerto Vallarta we decided to spend a day at our friend’s Ryan and Jonika’s hotel there. Jonika won a trip to P.V. as a work incentive and they did it up in high style. They stayed at the Westin and Nikki Beach resort. Dan, Meredith and I had a hard time adjusting to how the other half live, but we did our best. The beach bed’s and cabana boys helped to ease the transition.

The cabanas at Nikki Beach.

Our motley crew.

The aftermath.

The next day we were in desperate need of a good night’s rest and a day of detox. Meredith had moved from her fancy digs at the surf camp, to the plot of grass in front of our camper and her tent. We were all asleep by 7:30. Around 11:30 I thought I heard carolers, really bad carolers. In fact what I was hearing was The Locals driving through the park screaming Jingle Bells and laughing hysterically. Then I heard Bob say “I know we’ll bright them”, this was followed by their truck doing a donut in the parking area so they could point their headlights directly into Meredith’s tent. Mer got up and addressed the drunkards, from there on all I heard was laughter. By some miracle we were not voted out of the RV park the next morning. Seems our neighbors have really good senses of humor and the sight of four people, with a median age of 60,heckling the youngin’s was appreciated by all.

In the morning we decided against retaliation, why not let the old folks enjoy their victory. Besides Jamie and Rose Marie were leaving for Arizona and we can’t afford the long distance charges involved with any future pranks. Thus ended the “Who can wake whom up more often” pranks of the winter of 2004.

Footnote: The surf camp Mer went to is pretty schwanky. Many of the women who attended it were a bit more high society then the likes of us. Case in point: One of the women, we’ll call her Texas, joined us for dinner one night. She asked about our travels and we told stories for as long as our companions seemed interested. The whole time though we were aware that Texas was watching us like you watch a car wreck. Morbidly curios I suppose.
The next day she was chatting with Meredith and she said the following, (it helps if you read this in a thick Texas accent) “I enjoyed meeting your friends last night, but I must tell you, I…I would never know people like that. I guess maybe I am just to0 civilized.”
We love this quote!

Invasion

2004-12-04T10:23:00.000-07:00

December 4, 2004
This week we did some exploring. We ventured north to La Pinita, San Poncho and San Francisco. We were invaded by ants and by Coloradoans and still managed to surf every day.

Fisherman right in front of our place.

First we are both finally healthy again. The Sayulita Sinusitis that we and the rest of the town contracted has now passed; we can both breathe regularly although both are still prone to unprovoked coughing fits. We said goodbye to our new friends Drew and Kelly. Kelly is the daughter of Jamie and Rose Marie, our other new friends who live here. Kelly and Drew made for great surfing buddies, we spent a day with them at Burrows, near Punta de Mita surfing and fending off the dog attacks that are quickly becoming legend on the walk out to the break. We were very sorry to see them go, but they were immediately replaced by other friends, so we were not alone for long.

Scenes from our explorations

An agua fresca cart.

The ice cream stores down here are really something.

Wednesday we were joined by our dear friend Meredith, she can be seen in the Bryce Canyon post. Meredith is here attending the Las Olas Surf Camp. The camp is for women and includes everything, meals, yoga, massage, and 6 days of surfing instruction by some of the best in the biz. Meredith manages to steal away every now and again to pay us a visit. She will be staying on an additional 5 or 6 days after the camp is over, we look forward to having another surfing buddy to hang with during our last weeks here.

Thursday Brother Pat arrived. Yep, you read that correctly, Brother Pat is with us yet again. In typical Pat fashion he managed to miss his flight in Salt Lake putting him into Puerto Vallarta at 9:19pm. Due to this guffaw we had to break one of our Mexico rules and for the first time we drove at night. Safely back in Sayulita we deposited Pat at Bob and Sherry’s house where he’ll be staying during his visit.

I mentioned the ants. Well we have discovered a new kind of RV-ing villain. This villain is stealthy, it can reproduce itself faster than a bunny and it comes in the form of a 3 segmented, black, millimeter-long insect. The dreaded ants have found our home and they are driving us batty! No amount of cleaning or caution seems enough to force them out. The first few days we would kill them as we saw them, this progressed into purchasing caustic chemicals to be used outside along the perimeter, and finally culminating in the loss of countless brain cells as we sprayed poison on every surface of our poorly ventilated 8x10 can.

newly hatched villians in our medicine cabinet.

Thursday was the breakdown day. I awoke to find a new hatch of thousands of teeny tiny ants in our bathroom. We emptied all contents from the room and hosed, Raided and ant powdered the whole unit. Later we decided to fetch something from the cargo carrier on the roof of our rig. In the carrier we have all of our gear for snorkeling, fishing, camping, and the enjoyment of other water sports. All of it was coated, absolutely coated in ants. We have learned that they like moisture and it is humid here, not allowing for things to dry out. As a result we could not douse all of our clothes and gear because it would not dry and would attract even more of the vile villains.

I had a “Full Metal Jacket” moment in the parking area where I had placed all of the infested items to be cleaned, shaking out clothing was resulting in my being covered in ants, most disturbingly the hundreds that were in my hair. Normally I do not freak at the sight of bugs, mosquitoes not withstanding. On this occasion however, I had a melt down of rather epic proportions. Something about knowing that if I missed even one, the bastard would lay eggs and the problem would compound until either I die of Raid poisoning or we move up to a cold enough climate to kill them.

After hours of sweeping, shaking and otherwise displacing the villains, we sat down to drink a much needed Pacifico. I decided to relax further by crocheting, only to find a new hatch of ants in my yarn, which had to be thrown away. To ease my pain I proceeded to drink more Pacifico, then Meredith showed up with a bottle of Almond Tequila which sealed the deal and a few sips later I could hardly remember the day’s battles.

Last night we found ants in the bedroom. Today we are removing our mattress and all of our clothing in order to Raid the last vestiges of hope that these evil doers have. In the last week we have emptied out every cabinet, cubby and cushion, we have applied caustic materials to every surface. If I see another ant I may consider the matchstick method and hope that an ant-free camper will rise from the ashes.

If there is to be a silver lining in the Ant wars of 2004, it is this. We have been seriously considering stopping the trip here. This town suits us very well. Dan and I had scheduled a vote, should we stay or should we go? This issue has been settled by daily checking of snow reports in Colorado and B.C. and by the ants. Cold weather may not be wholly appealing right now, but lack of insects is enough to entice me to strap on my down slippers and wool sweaters and welcome a little frost nip. Our scheduled departure date is December 15th.

But just incase we change our minds, here's what the owner of the RV park is doing with his camper.

Dia de Gracias

2004-11-26T09:05:00.000-07:00

November 25, 2004
Giving Thanks.

As it is the season, I will now bore you to tears with a list of the things I am thankful for.

I am thankful for:
Being born to the means that I was, just enough to feel secure, and not enough to make me lose appreciation for the small things.

I am thankful for:
The friendships others continue to build with me. To my friends, I love you and I would do anything I could to bring joy or comfort to you.

I am thankful for:
My parents, for the two best gifts a parent can bestow upon their child, independence and common sense.

I am thankful for:
The path that lead me here; to a year of exploring, learning and appreciating.

I am thankful for:
The generosity shown to us by strangers and new friends, and the opportunities we have had to show generosity to others.

Finally, I am thankful for:
Every single, solitary day that I get to spend with the love of my life, Daniel Lawrence Goddard.
Coco Loco
Tis the season to cut down the cocos at Sayulita Trailer Park. Here is the groundskeeper David climbing and pruning the palmas. Really it is a sight to behold, her climbs the tree in about 10 seconds, using no protection whatsoever. Once up top he climbs over the cocos then chops them out from under him. When he is done he wraps the rope around his bottom once, then self-belays to the ground. He earns about $20 per tree, there are almost 50 trees on the property. He hates climbing the trees anymore, loses sleep for weeks before hand, but the money is good and he says it is just part of his job.

David's children practice climbing like their Papi.

The Mexican Revolution

2004-11-21T09:48:00.000-07:00

November 21, 2004
Sayulita

Yesterday was Mexican Revolution Day.
Sayulita celebrated with a big parade and the entire town came out to watch. While in Mexico I have lost many an hour of sleep to the roosters and dogs down here. In Sayulita the roosters aren't bad but the elementary school's bugle and drum practice has woken me up a few times. We often joke about how the bugles sound like dying roosters. Yesterday as the band "played" the rooster flocked to the familiar wailing of the injured sounding caws, only this time it was a flock of eight year old buglers showing their patriotism. I feel for my poor parents who were subjected to band recitals for years.

Seemingly every child in the community was in the parade. The youngest ones were dressed up as hombres with guns and cowboy hats, the girls as damas with flowing gowns and braids. Older kids were drummers or dancers or flag bearers. The town was one big fiesta for the remainder of the day. From here I'll let the pictures tell the story.

Our friend Eddy from Crested Butte, Dan and Kale from Juneau, Alaska.

The announcer signaled the end of the parade and children ran in every direction to reunite with their parents.

This kid looks like he's had a bit too much Mexican hot chocolate.

My parents headed back for Ohio Friday morning. This is the first time I can remember that I have not known when I will see them again, it's a strange feeling.

Home Sweet Home

2004-11-18T09:51:00.000-07:00

November 13, 2004

The locals invited us over for a cocktail at Jim and Rose Marie’s house. Their home is right in town and the view is of the entire town. The locals were playing a game for the evening. Each one was to pick a restaurant to have an appetizer at; you picked up the check at the restaurant you chose so there was some incentive to pick a cheap one. Unfortunately the game fell apart as the beers flowed and they became hungry. Fortunately for us this meant they never left the first restaurant which is where we and the family were eating. We had a very nice dinner and laughed freely at and with the locals.

This morning there were no waves, in fact it was the flattest we have seen water since the Bahía de Concepcíon in Baja. Alan and Liz, a couple staying at the park, told us about another nearby break. We all loaded into our recently freed pickup and headed off for Los Burros. This is a really mellow and nice right break. I was in heaven after the shallow left break we have been surfing the past few days. While in Punta de Mita we inquired about a boat ride to other surf breaks and we may return early next week for a full day of surfing breaks only accessible by boat. Cost to hire your own private surfing taxi for the day $60 for up to 6 people.

I am writing this from the local fish taco stand while sipping an agua fresca. Isn’t technology grand?

November 15, 2004

Yesterday we hung with the Midwesterners all day. Dad came over early and joined us for breakfast, then we entertained him with our lack of surfing prowess. My father’s main goal for the day was to watch the Bengal’s game, the poor man still holds out hope for his home team. We spent many hours at the local gringo bar trying to facilitate dad’s wish, he was finally able to get the game on the TV, but by then he was engrossed in conversation with the locals and I bet he couldn’t tell you what the final score ended up being.

Dan and I are finding our way around here very well now. We know which Super Mercado sells the coldest beer, which loudspeaker denotes the shrimp truck is coming our way, which Internet Café is the cheapest and which one is run by the scariest guy in town. We have managed to locate the Panaderia (bakery), the Helado Shop (ice cream), the cheapest fish tacos and the best beef tacos, the right and left breaks, and even the man who sells gas in milk jugs since there is no Pemex station here. We figured out that the RV Park keeps a supply of chairs and tables around for dirt bag RV-ers like us to use, and Dan got a $2.50 palm frond rug for the patio. So now we have a real outside area for eating, sitting and entertaining, not just our folding couch and cargo carrier. I even got to set up a reading area for myself; we are in full nesting mode.

Today we are all headed into the big city. Dan and I have managed to avoid Puerto Vallarta on this trip up until now. Alas the Midwesterners want to do some shopping and we still have a few X-mas gifts to procure.

Post PV:

This is the Mercado in Bucerias, halfway between P.V. and Sayullita.

Ahh yes large touristy Mexican cities are not for us. Apparently we needed a reminder of this so we subjected ourselves to a full day of shopping. We managed to lose the Midwesterners in the first hour so we got to spend the next hour sitting by the car hoping they would eventually come back to us. From there we did a big city grocery shop and now we are back in the comfort of our happy little RV Park. The Midwesterners will be keeping us very busy for the next few days. Tomorrow morning we go out fishing, then a local friend of Bob and Sherry’s is coming over to cook for us. I don’t know if people are aware of this, but often here when you rent a house, the maids will cook for you if you request it. They earn some extra money and you get a fantastic meal for a fraction of restaurant costs. Also since she will usually make it for you at your house, you can watch and learn or just enjoy the aromas coming from within.

This guy is called the Mouth Painter, Dan and I bought one of his pieces for my folks for X-mas. Don't worry we already gave it to them so you don't need to keep it a secret.

I need a nap now, the parent’s are running us into the ground ;)

November 17, 2004
Pescaderos

John "There's a reason they don't call it catching" Roberts, my Papa.

Me catching a tan.

My father, Dan and I went fishing yesterday morning. Our fishing guide was named Nacho (really, that is his name). The guides around here build palapas to fish around, so you are racing out to what seems to you to be the middle of nowhere and then all of a sudden you come upon four milk jugs floating. The jugs are attached to an elaborate series of palm fronds, then sardines are introduced to the palapa habitat where they stay and act as a semi-permanent chumming station. We went from palapa to palapa, yet even with the ocean equivalent of a salt-lick we still couldn’t catch a fish. Finally dan landed a nice-sized Dorado (Mahi-Mahi) so we didn’t look like total gringo fishermen. The highlight of the trip had to be getting back into shore. Nacho waited for the biggest wave he could find and then gunned the motor sending us flying into the shore, it was fantastic.

Nacho, Dan and his catch

Lunch.

Sayulita as seen from the water.

I could live in a place like this :)

We cooked up Dan’s catch for a nice fish taco lunch and then settled in for a lazy afternoon. Lazy is not what we got. Have I mentioned yet how I don’t know how I ever had time to work? I have never been so busy in all my life. Finally at 6pm we all ventured over to Bob and Sherry’s house, where Bertha (pronounced Bear-ta) their housekeeper was cooking a feast for us. By watching Bertha and asking a series of never ending questions I have learned how to make chili rellenos, this was one of my goals while in Mexico. Tomorrow I get to learn how to make chicken mole and flan. Dinner was fabulous and we all had a very nice time.

Also at dinner were Jeff and Caroline Morehouse, who are dear friends of Brother Pat, we keep running into people we know down here, we joke that this is Colorado south. Every license plate here is from either Colorado or British Columbia. We may start telling people that we are from Ohio just to be different. Since we entered Mexico we have met probably 10 other couples from Southwestern Colorado. Colorado is a very seasonal state, many people work at the ski areas in the winter and construction or river guiding in the summer, so they end up with a month or two off every spring and fall, now we know where they all go.

Today Mom, Christine and I are going horseback riding and then I fully intend to be a vegetable for the entire afternoon. Dan and I can’t seem to find time to be on vacation yet, even five months in we are still in working mode. We have set a relaxation/ enjoyment goal and we hope to start the new plan this afternoon.

November 18, 2004

The horseback ride was wonderful. I got to see the south end of town, where I had not been yet. We all got to gallop along in the surf and climb through thick jungle trails. Our guide taught me about several edible plants and fruits that I had not known of before. We ended up riding for two hours and boy can I feel it today! On out way home from the ride I spotted someone who looked familiar to me, it was Dave, the English gent we befriended in Pescadero. He came by the RV Park for about an hour and then joined us for lunch before heading south for a few days.

I did manage to get some relaxation time, but not for the reason I previously stated, it seems I am sick and I needed a three hour nap. After my nap I felt a bit better and rallied to go visit the Midwesterners. We took our buddy Eddy up to the house with us and he and my father played guitars for a captive audience. Last night we all went into Sayulita proper for an Argentinean feast. My mom has been a very good sport, she doesn’t like spicy food or beans, or really anything that is typically Mexican fare, so this meal was more up her ally.

Today the waves are still not up to par, they have been blown out for five days now. Seems we may have to take up another hobby soon.

A Queen Iguana we saw oalong the horseback trail.

Dan attempting to repair a blown-out flip-flop.

Sayulita, Nayarit, Mexico.

2004-11-13T15:01:00.001-07:00

Bienvenidos a Sayulita.
November 10, 2004

Monday we succumb yet again to summit fever. Teacapan had been such a treat, but were in a nesting mode and the lure of six weeks in one place proved too much for us. We rolled into Sayulita around 5:30, missed the turn to the RV Park and were immediately made fun of by our friends who live here and had been tailing us, wondering where in the heck we were headed. Bob and Sherry Daniels are from Durango. Bob was our dentist way back when. They bought a place here more than five years ago and have been converting their American friends ever since. We came here about four years ago with Dan’s family and liked it so much that we planned our trip to Mexico around this town. We even went so far as to buy surfboards, because Sayulita is a surfing town.

The RV Park here is very nice and is right on the beach. Literally we can take 20 steps from our campsite and be in the ocean at a nice left break for surfing. Our first night we went over to Bob and Sherry’s for dinner and conversation, we had a very nice time and low and behold we actually stayed up until 11pm! The next morning we awoke early and Dan started making breakfast for our guests. On the road to Sayulita we passed the girls who are biking to Chile. Remember the ones we met on the ferry? Any way Dan invited them to come visit. They showed up right on time, no easy feat since they had to cycle about 10 miles through the mountains and get here by 8am. After breakfast we said goodbye to Christen and Suzanna.

Christen and Suzanna.

Later when we returned to the Park their bikes were still here. Christen had forgotten her lock in another town and hitch hiked back to get it. The detour made it too late for them to cycle to their next destination so we were treated to their being our neighbors for the night. Also we got to enjoy our first surf in mainland Mexico.

Today was move in day. We moved to our new spot, which is ours for the duration. Then we unloaded the camper from the truck for the first time in five months. Our truck immediately became 6” taller and you can tell she is a happy truck having been freed of her burden. We laid down our new carpet, set up our couch and erected a table using crates and our cargo carrier. Dan hung a tarp for shade and we have effectively doubled our living space. It feels very nice to be settled here, to know that we aren’t moving for a while and that we can leave things on counters for example.

Now we are off to our favorite fish taco stand in the world. Yet again I wonder how I get to be so lucky.

November 11, 2004
Sayulita

Our camp.

Today we began what I assume will be our routine for the next month or so. Get up, surf, return to the camper, make breakfast, eat breakfast by the ocean, spend some time cleaning or organizing or reading, surf, eat lunch, go to town to buy groceries or beer or use the Internet, surf, make dinner, watch the sunset, play a game and go to bed. I feel so busy. However this particular day our routine had a couple of extras thrown in. After our noon time surf we decided to take the truck for a spin. Dan says she handles like a race car now. We went over to another pueblo and bought some provisions while making sure our guests who were arriving later would be able to follow the directions we had given them.

Back in Sayulita we busied ourselves with a few housekeeping errands and then sat down to wait for Ma and Pa Roberts to show up. My parents are visiting for nine days. They made record time and got in around 3pm. Once they were settled in their rental house we went out for a nice dinner and waited for our final guest to arrive. Christine is from Chicago and she and my mother went to college together. Christine had missed her flight, while awaiting her next flight she managed to leave word for us at the rental car desk and the property rental agency, which greatly impressed us all. Sure enough Christine came rolling up in a cab around 9pm and we headed right back to the bar so she could be properly welcomed to Mexico with a margarita.

November 12, 2004
Dan and I headed out for our morning surf only to find no waves. Just as depression was setting in the pan lady came by (not pan like a skillet but “pon” as in freshly made breads), and we were distracted by still warm banana bread and pastries. We didn’t have true breakfast fixin’s in the camper so after a few pastries we mounted the bikes to ride to the grocery store. We never made it out of the park though because Bob and Sherry met us at the gate. They introduced us to their friends Jim and Rose Marie. The six of us chatted for about an hour. Dan and I are ridiculously early risers, so even after the visit from the pan lady and our friends it was still only about 8:30. My parents are professional vacationers; they know how to rest when they get away. They stay up late and sleep in. It was a risk showing up at their house before nine, Mom doesn’t take kindly to having her sleep disturbed. Lucky for us Christine seems to be on a clock similar to ours and everyone was up when we arrived. After we had successfully mooched breakfast of the parents we went surfing.

Later we all ventured into Sayulita, my Dad was looking for cigars from a certain communist island nation, Christine for a certain liquor made from agave, and my mother for another bathing suit. Seems my personal vice of having a bathing suit for every mood was earned honestly. Still later we all had a beer on the beach with our local friends. The Midwesterners (that would be Ma, Pa and Christine) returned to the comfort of their pool. Dan, myself, and the locals had a few more beers and then retreated for siestas.

Today Dan actually worked a bit. Ramone, the Park manager needed a camper moved, so we bartered a few free nights for Dan’s hauling services. Unfortunately what was supposed to be a few steps forward ended up being two backwards. Perhaps we saved about $28 in camping fees, but we had a bit of an accident during the move. Our right front blinker cover suffered a blow from a cement wall, as you can probably guess, the wall won. Goodness knows how much a light cover would cost, I can’t imagine that we’ll find out until we return to the states, but my guess is more than $28. Dan was putting on a good face, even though his beloved truck is no longer perfect, Ramone brought him a 12 pack of Pacifico to ease the pain. Dan seems to have made peace with the cracked light and his fractured ego. All is well again. I was just corrected while reading this aloud to Dan, seems he is not quite done pouting over the light. Men and their trucks!

Cabo to Teacapan

2004-11-09T11:26:00.000-07:00

November 1, 2004
Dia de Las Muertas -Coches.

Sunday as we were preparing to pull up camp at la Playa de Cerritos when I realized that the truck was dead, fue muerto. We got a jump from a kindly neighbor and everything seemed to be fine. However, we had not left any lights on, nor had we left anything plugged into the power outlets, so we were a bit stumped as to how we had drained our battery.

Halloween evening we met up with Troy and Rebecca and enjoyed a dinner out and some holiday festivities. We spent the night at El Litro Trailer Park in Todos Santos. El Litro is a simple park which seems to be in a constant state of disrepair. We opted to park on the side where the water worked but the electricity didn’t and showered where the water was warm but the toilet was broken.

In the morning we loaded up to head for one more surf at Cerritos before returning to Cabo, but alas the truck would not start. After an hour or so of charging and jumpingit, it still would not start. We found the only mechanic in town and he came to the park to try and help. Using his extra battery to jump our truck finally got it to start, but we had to actually put that battery in our truck, and then swap it out with our dead one once the truck was running. Over the course of the next few hours we drove all over southern Baja, mindful to never turn off the truck. We checked with every mechanico until we finally settled on the Cabo Chevrolet dealership, who said they’d look at the truck after their siesta.

To make a long story as short as possible, it took us ALL day to figure out that our batteries were totally dead, and that we needed two new batteries. We don’t know if there is something draining them or if they simply died of old age. What would have been perhaps an hour long fix in the states took all day. This was because the dealership did not have the correct batteries in stock, then we bought the right amp batteries at a nearby store only to learn that the negative and positive hookups were on the wrong side and so on, problem after problem, until all we could do was laugh to keep from crying. Finally at around 5:30 we had two new, correct batteries installed and the truck was running again. Still, however, we don’t know if there is a further problem which killed the old batteries, also we hadn’t budgeted for $210 worth of batteries and mechanic’s fees, so we are officially overbudget.

This experience taught us a few valuable lessons. #1 When you get the slightest bit away from the realms of language you can function in, e.g. restaurants, where is the bano etc., the language barrier is as wide as Copper Canyon. #2. Mexican mechanics are nice, and in our experiences, honest guys. Sylvester, the Parts Manager at the dealership, felt so badly that they didn’t have the correct battery that he gave us his Costo card to buy new ones with, and when that didn’t work he arranged a ride for Dan to other battery stores until we found the right ones. All of this at absolutely no profit to him or the dealership. When we were all done we tipped the mechanics $30, there was no official bill. #3. What is a minor problem at home can become a real event down here.

We camped at a swanky campground in Los Cabos last night and enjoyed a fine farewell dinner with Marc. The highlight of this meal was that the waiter came to our table and made fresh salsa for us right there, to our specifications, “lots of cilantro and five jalapenos, por favor”. It is the Mexican equivalent of bananas flambéed tableside, with all of the showmanship required.

Much to all of our dismay there were no waves this morning so we were denied a final surf before Marc flies off and we head for the mainland. But as a consolation we had a very nice breakfast beachside and got a bit more tanning in for Marc before he returns to Durango, where Wolf Creek Ski Area is already open for the season.

Election night.

We are currently in La Paz at the Casa Blanca RV Park, which is otherwise almost deserted. Aside from the woman who came to collect our money, there are only two other people here and my guess is that there are 40-50 spots unoccupied. Seems Day of the Dead is not a big day for tourists. Tomorrow we resume the ferry ticket game. We need to get our tickets and the pricing squared away, as well as securing our auto permit. There are normally two ferries to choose from, currently though, only the older, slower and more expensive one is operating. We don’t think it runs on Thursday and we don’t hold out much hope that we could get everything squared away and get onboard before the boat sets sail tomorrow afternoon. Probably we will spending a few days here in lovely La Paz.

La Paz a Mazetlan.

The ferry terminal is 19km out of town, we got there right as things were opening up at around 9am. This is of note because I had sunken into a very deep depression that morning after hearing the election results and the fact that I could rally to deal with Mexican officials is remarkable.

I promise not to preach here too much, but here is the primary reason I am in mourning. During our travels we have met many foreigners. The resounding consensus among the people we have met from Germany, Australia, Switzerland, Canada, England and so on, is that they are very upset with America’s preemptive war and dealings with the Middle East. But because G.W. didn’t really win the last election they cut us, the populous, some slack. Basically the people we have met hate American policy, but can separate that from disliking Americans. Wednesday morning that all changed. Now we have voted this crazy man into office, we as a nation essentially just gave our cowboy leader a big old thumb’s up. By electing him this time, Americans said, “George the war’s fine, strong arming our allies, it’s all good, making us the self-proclaimed policer of the world, no hay problema”. Today I mourn for the American traveler’s place in the world. In truth I am hard pressed to come up with one redeemable quality within this administration, but I promised not to preach so I will move on, perhaps to Canada.

Back to the ferry. Things went remarkably smoothly. By 10:30 we had secured our Permiso de Vehiculo por Immagracion Temporar (the sticker that promises we aren’t selling our rig), and our ferry tickets. Departure time 3pm, but we would have to be there to load by 12:30. Mexican time is a bit different, so we loaded around 2:30 and set sail at almost 5pm. The ferry is not a tourist ferry; primarily it is a commercial one for semi trucks and workers. The cargo hull was packed so tightly that we were sure the semi next to us was going to rub against our rig the entire time. Also they don’t seem to pay much mind to balancing out the trucks, so we had a decided port side list while afloat. Our rig was on the portside, hence the rubbing fear. Our cabin was also on the port side so we slept on a downward slope.

The ferry bar.

Our cabina.

Our tightly fitted rig in the hull.

Particulars: it was impossible for us to figure out the true cost of our ferry ride until the moment we paid. They measure and weigh your rig to determine the cost for it and the driver. A passenger is sold a ½ price ticket and since we chose a cabin my ticket came to $75. Total cost was $432 for the ferry and $34 for the permiso. We took the Sematur ferry because the faster, better, cheaper, Baja Ferry is broken. Both ferries have web sites, in Spanish only and they don’t speak English at the ticket offices. If you are in the market for a ferry ride, I would strongly suggest you fork over the extra money for at least the tourist class, which affords you a room and a bed. Cabina class, which we took, gets you a private bath as well, and Classe Especial gets you a TV and VCR. Salon class is akin to a greyhound bus seat for 18 hours, complete with crying babies and smelly, shady looking men.

Once onboard we enjoyed a brief visit to the cantina and had dinner at the restaurant. We saw a phenomenal sunset and enjoyed playing cards and chatting with some of the other passengers. During the night I had a really hard time sleeping. The boat is loud, and small enough that it rocks about quite a bit. Every motion made me worry about our rig and every noise made me wonder if Brook’s prophecy wasn’t coming true. Our dear friend Brook (you can see her pictured in the Grand Canyon posts) sent me an email not long ago. Brook is one of the funniest women I know, especially when she is writing. She sent us a note about the rain in Colorado and how she was almost overcome with loathing and jealousy for us, but when those feelings came she just went online and checked out www.catostrophicferryaccidents.com. Not a real site, a joke, and a very funny one, except for when it is 2am and you are somewhere in the middle of the Gulf of California.

Since this is written in the past tense I am assuming you have already guessed that we survived the crossing. In fact it was very comfortable and we met some really nice people. Most notably were two women who are bicycling from Alaska to Chile, to follow one of the girl’s along check out her website www.earthcircle.org.

Today is a first, we are visiting people we met along the way. Many people write and offer us a place to camp for the night, and we still intend to take you all up on the offers, but to date we haven’t been in anyone’s neighborhood. You may recall that we attended afternoon tea while in Victoria, B.C., well during our tea by the dump, we met Duane and Dianne. They have kindly invited us over to their RV here in Mazatlan for dinner and we are taking them up on the offer.

Dia de el Mercado
November 5, 2004

Dinner was fantastic. Duane and Dianne have a space in a private campground; they have made their spot very homey, filled with art and plants. We enjoyed an easy and interesting conversation, you know the kind where everyone participates and has something of interest to add. It was truly enjoyable. They told us that the market here is not to be missed and per their recommendation we decided to stay another day. This morning we caught the tourist bus into town, and spent the day shopping in the public markets. We bought our nieces and nephew Christmas presents and managed to avoid buying any of the things we wanted for ourselves. In our home in Durango I had decorated our kitchen in bright Mexican colors and had displayed there my collection of Catrinas. Catrinas are Day of the Dead statues, sort of elaborately dressed skeletons. Here is a picture of them since they are hard to describe without making them sound scary or morbid.

To pass up some of the Catrinas we saw today was almost physically painful for me, but really where on earth would I put a fragile porcelain sculpture in our camper?

Dan forced me to go into the millionth hardware/ carpet store so far, he is on the eternal mission to find a decent piece of outdoor carpeting to help keep down the sand in our camper. You might think that trying to describe Astroturf and decipher meter lengths in our limited Spanish would be fun and that I would never get tired of it, but you would be wrong. Somehow shopping for day-glow green plastic carpeting doesn’t do it for me. Never the less, the eternal sand v. Dan struggle is exhausting to watch, and I pray that somehow, some day very soon he will settle on a piece of turf and this quest will be over.

After our shopping expedition we opted to take the local bus, as opposed to the tourist bus. This was a very fun decision, the local bus drivers are muy loco! The return trip was more akin to a rollercoaster ride than a bus trip. We made it home in under five minutes, it had taken us 15 to get into town on the tourist bus. We got off at Duane and Dianne’s stop, one stop before ours, and dropped in on them. They invited onto the patio for a beer and then they bestowed upon us one of the nicest gifts anyone has ever given me. A perfectly sized square of Astroturf. They have replaced it with a very nice mat-type rug and they were happy to unload their old rug on us. What to them was a easy way to dispose of unwanted flooring, is to me freedom from having to stop at every God forsaken hardware and/or carpet shop in Mexico. I think that we failed to convey to them how fabulous this gift was, even though we openly gushed for about ten minutes. For goodness sake it even matches, no day-glow here, this Astroturf is tan, like our truck. Duane and Dianne, thank you.

Tonight we are camped again at Playa Escondida. This park had a heyday, it has long since past. Now it is very run down, but functional and near our friends, so it works for us. Most notably there is a huge caravan here. We haven’t seen a single caravan before this campground, but we have heard all about them and were intrigued. Our first intro was a bit rough. One of the guys in a big Class A screamed at us to slow down when we drove through the park, we were racing down the road at a whopping 5mph. No one has ever accused Dan of driving too fast, he even drove the ambulance slowly “how can I help someone if I wreck getting there?”. He has the opposite of a lead foot, perhaps a feather foot, so this warning made us both laugh. That confrontation aside, we were pleasantly surprised at how welcoming and cordial the other members were. Dan is currently borrowing a water funnel from a member he met in the pool, and filling our tanks with agua purifcado. Another member is trying to help us figure out our isolator/ battery problem (also thanks to Curt from the Forum for your guidance). And still another has invited us over to tour his Lance camper with a slide, he is convinced that we need to upgrade.

So far we have been very pleasantly surprised by Mazatlan. While it is a big tourist city, it still feels like Mexico. The bus system is fantastic, and we were only accosted once by a member of the time-share mafia.

Later that night.
Duane, dan and I went to watch the Venedos de Mazatlan play the Naranjeros de Hermosillo in Baseball. We love the menacing team names, the deers v. the orange men/ pickers. What a great way to experience Mexico. Duane has heard that the stadium was built as a training camp for U.S. teams who have since donated it to mazatlan. As a result it is very modern and clean, it even has a jumbo-tron, which is constantly displaying spectators in various embarrassing acts, like eating or talking on their cell phones. Even more so than U.S. sporting events, there is a complete feeling of sensory overload, everything is loud and flashy, vendors sell everything from beer to ceviche and they outnumber the spectators. The tickets were a whopping $6.50 each and we were perhaps 15 rows off of the field along the first base line. Bleacher seats in the outfield are only a dollar, and box seats are $9. We stayed until 10pm, the 8th inning had just begun and the home town team was down 5-0.

Duane and Dan.

This morning we are packing up to head south yet again.

November 7, 2004
Teacapan, Sinola, MX

Duane told us to go and spend a night in Teacapan. He said that the town was charming and the estuary filled with birds. What he failed to mention was that we would fall in love with the place and especially the people. It is with trepidation that I write this. You know when you love something so much that you want to keep it just for you? That is how I feel about Teacapan, alas I promised McCoy that I would tell people about this place, because he and his people want to share it with others.

The drive here was breathtaking. Row after row of coconut groves align the road and pools abound filled with beautiful birds. Since we had never been here before, we passed by the campground that Duane had recommended just to visit the town before camping for the night. We liked the town so much that we wanted to camp closer to it and ride our bikes in to explore further. So instead of the campground we had heard of we decided to try Isla Paraíso, which our camping bible, Mexican Camping by the Church’s, said had been allowing a few rigs to park, but they weren’t sure if the situation was permanent. Well because I promised I would, I am here to tell you that it is permanent. They have set up an area for probably 15 RV’s complete with electricity at every site (the sites are marked by palm trees, since this place too was a coconut grove) a central water spigot and dump, palapas and restrooms are being built right now. The plans include a restaurant and in the coming years a 60 room hotel, currently there are bungalows for rent, but only four or so. Camping here is $10 per night. Word of warning, do not park under the palms, our neighbor had a coconut fall on his truck last year.

It just so happens that the owner is here visiting this weekend, his son McCoy runs the place. Don Camote is the owner, his name is actually Rudolpho, but everyone calls him Camote, or sweet potato because he is an old softy. Don Camote and his friends insisted that we join them for a meal about an hour after we had arrived. We went over to the main palapa which ajoins the pool for what we thought would be a quick snack and an introduction. Instead we had a multiple course meal of freshly caught and smoked fish, homemade salsa and tostadas. We were showered with cervesas and got to practice our Spanish with everyone. McCoy lived in Atlanta and is bilingual, so he was a huge help when we needed to know how to say something in Spanish. McCoy invited us back to his home, which is in this complex, and we were fed even more food and beers. Their friend Pepe let us try some Sotol, which is his own family’s label. Sotol is akin to Tequila, but it is as smooth as the finest Tequila. Pepe swears it will not cause a hangover and as an added bonus it is and aphrodisiac. I don’t know if I believe Pepe, I woke up with a headache and my purity intact. It was an absolutely fantastic evening, they welcomed us into their home and entertained us with the stories of their lives, while tolerating our often painful attempts to speak to them only in Spanish.

This morning Dan and I awoke slightly hung-over and immediately started laughing while recounting the conversations of the night before. Neither of us could believe the generosity that had been shown to us. At 9:30 Aaron, the manager, came to take us for a boat ride and tour of the estuario (estuary). First he took us out to the big dredging boat which is clearing a path for big boats to be able to access Teacapan. The night before we learned that there are many changes in the works for this place, a big marina, a golf course, an airstrip and hotels are all either begun or completed. The ride out to the dredger was really interesting, the estuary mouth is a turbulent place, with very shallow spots, strong currents and waves. After that we toured the estuary with is filled with birds, and sea life. While we didn’t see any today we have heard of crocodiles and dolphins in the water. Aaron navigated the boat up a very narrow mangrove corridor to a large shallow lagoon filled with white birds.

The narrows on our boat ride.

Dinner with the Don and his family.

We came back to the pool and were greeted by Raphael the security guard. We spent an hour or so speaking with him, he also speaks English and he corrects our Spanish for us which we really appreciate. Raphael told us where a surfing spot was so we rode our bicycles up to scout it out. The waves were very small, we hit it at the wrong time, but I can see how you could surf there if the conditions were right. The ride there and back was beautiful, it seems like the entire area is one giant coconut grove.

Upon our return we found another fiesta was underway. This time we were fed ridiculous amounts of freshly caught shrimp, crab and more smoked fish. I feel like I am half shrimp right now, the other half is Pacifico. Once again we were treated like honored guests and we spoke at length with each person there. The only other camper here is a guy named Bill from Alaska. Bill spent last winter here and we asked him if it is always like this. He replied not always, but every Saturday and Sunday. I think we have found Paradise.

The pool.

This was a special weekend because Don Camote was here, so I am not saying that you will be fed fish and beers during your stay. However, not to worry, you can go into town, buy a kilo of prawns for about $3 and have your own fiesta, just be sure to invite Aaron, Raphael, McCoy, Bill and Don Camote if he is here.

We are both sad to have to leave this wonderful place, but we have a very important date in a few days.

Cerritos

2004-10-31T14:55:00.000-07:00

Cerritos sunset.

October 26, 2004
The weather has turned ugly so we decided to visit Todos Santos again for some tourist action. Dan and I have discovered the joy that is the llavenderia. I may never do my own laundry again. Marc bought some prints and Dan I attended to the blog and phone calls.

Since it was so ugly out we decided to all take a day off of surfing, but we did make camp at the beach. Our intent is to camp at Cerritos for the remainder of the week, and surf as much as we can. “We can” being dictated by how long our arms can stand to paddle out and how strong our will power is, especially since it is still raining out.

October 28, 2004
Life’s a beach

Cerritos beach.

Dan surfing at sunset.

Palapa at Cerritos.

Fisherman.

Our campsite.

We’ve been here at Cerritos Beach for four nights now, and the plan is to stay a full week. Among the amenities offered here are a surf break 100 yards away, free camping a fish taco stand with very odd hours and friendly neighbors. There are no other facilities, but since it is free, who could complain. The big rigs started rolling in on Monday. So far there are five 5th wheels and class A’s, mixed in with the ten or so permanent residents.

Juan is still here, running his infernal generator all day, but thankfully not all night. There is a Texan turned rasta-surfer boy, names Mateo, who lives in a bunker/ palpa dug into the beach. Terry is a guy who came down here on vacation, went home sold everything, bought an RV and returned two weeks later. That was two years ago, he hasn’t left the beach since. Rob lives in a converted ambulance, he is a snow science guy, who rents himself out for various guiding jobs and manages a few months down here each year. Apparently this other guy manufactured all of the acid in the 60’s, “if you did acid prior to 1971, then he had his hand in it”, or so we are told. Finally there is Rick who runs a surf shop here out of the back of his van and camper.

Among the temporary inhabitants, are Troy and Rebecca, who are from Vancouver Island, and are our immediate neighbors to the south. Rebecca cut her foot badly on the fin of her surfboard yesterday and needed stitches, which she aquired from the clinic in Todos Santos for $10. To the north we have Forest and West, a father/ son team from So Cal, who are traveling together, surfing, kayaking, studying Spanish and home schooling for 6 months. And then there’s us, Dan and I in the big rig and our “guard Marc” camped in his tent out front.

Wednesday night we were treated to a full lunar eclipse and a pot-luck dinner for all of the Cerritos beach campers. The moon put on a heck of a show and the campers made a heck of a meal.

Today we had to drive the truck to Cabo to accept our civics award for the year. You see obtaining our absentee ballots has been a real chore, and today after weeks of turmoil we finally got them via an ungodly expensive International Priority Fed Ex envelope. We filled in the appropriate circles (no hanging chads or accidental Pat Buchanan votes) and dropped them off to be Fed Ex-ed back by Tuesday at 7pm.

Ahh but you say two little votes don’t matter, why go to all of the expense and trouble? I have never missed an election since I was old enough to vote and this one is the most compelling election I can remember. I honestly feel that it is my duty to vote, and Dan has succumbed to my infectious civic pride. Also for the first time ever Colorado could vote democratic, so we are registered in a swing state, which means that maybe our two little votes will matter. While I usually choose to not use this blog to promote my own political, social or personal beliefs on this occasional I will ask that since you all seemingly enjoy my little diatribe here, in form of payment I ask that you vote.

Back from the campaign trail we sit on our happy little beach waiting for our evening surf session, a dinner of fish tacos and for Dan to recover from his crushing defeat at chess. Sorry hon.

The eclipse as seen from our campsight.

Special blog shout-outs to the following. Barbara Marie and Patrick Lee Goddard, for the Fed Ex assistance, Deb y Jeffe Shultz for the original plan (what a shame you couldn’t hand deliver them to us down here), and the folks at Cabo Villas for loaning us an address to get packages mailed to.

October 29, 2004
Breakin’ through.

Last night Dan, Marc, myself, Troy and Rebecca played a vicious game of Uno, where Rebecca showed her true colors as a cut-throat competitor. We were all treated to a beautiful sunset accompanied by sounding whales making their trek down south for the winter. Theses were the first whales we have seen.

Rebecca, Troy, Forest and his son West.

This morning Troy and Marc tried their hand at spear fishing but alas the fish proved a tough match. Tonight we’ll be having chicken, not fish, for dinner. Dan and I opted for a morning surf session, which was not exactly ego boosting so I decided to try again this afternoon. It was the best I have ever surfed and I felt like I made some real progress. Of course when I got to see the pictures Marc took of me ripping it up, I realized that I was really on like a one foot wave, but no matter, I had a ball.

Only two more days here at Cerritos, then we begin our trip to the ferry and to send Marc back to Colorado, where he is hoping to ski the day after he returns- go figure, from surf to snow, I am almost jealous.

October 30, 2004
Dolphins.

This morning we got to see a real show. A pod of dolphins surfing the same waves we’ve been trying to catch for two weeks. Needless to say they were much more successful than we have been. We could see them in the waves right before they’d break and then the dolphins would jump out of the water and back through the wave. What a sight. They were the biggest dolphins I have ever seen, and I find myself unable to look away from the ocean, even to write this, for fear of missing a repeat performance.

Yesterday we said goodbye to our buddy Dave, the English gent, seems he has hitched a ride to the mainland on a 60’ trimeran, complete with two beautiful women on its crew. Poor bloke. We wish him well. Today is our last full day here at Cerritos, while I am ready to move on and anxious to see my family, I could just as easily stay here for the winter. Life here is pretty good. Get up to a stunning sunrise, surf, eat breakfast, tan, read a book or crochet a ballena cozy, surf, eat $1 fish tacos, surf, make dinner, watch the sunset, play Uno with the neighbors, go to bed… not a bad way to live.

Expenses
Fuel $23.03
Groceries$61.56
Liquor $15.50
Treats $17.71
Repairs $-
Camping $10.63
Park Fees$(7.09)
Other* $35.43
Total $156.78
Remainder$131.98
This week was our cheapest yet. Still we ate very well and drank when we wanted. Gotta love Mexico! The negative number under park fees was money we won off our English friend at poker, our first Mecian earnings.

Bright lights big city.

2004-10-25T10:17:00.000-06:00

October 17, 2004
Pescadero to Cabo

Land's End, Cabo San Lucas.

The surf turned ugly yesterday morning and we all got trashed. Dan and I had our first collision and while his body faired better than mine, his board did not. Fortunately the local ding repairman was on the beach too and he is repairing the slice I took out of Dan’s board. I just ended up bruised from head to toe.

Dan's repaired board.

All of the Pescadero Surf Camp residents returned to the camp to recuperate by the pool. We ventured into Todos Santos for some administrative errands. Todos has phones, email and all of the gringo comforts.

Last night we had a fabulous communal dinner with the Colorado kids (Simon, Betsy, Derek and Creston) and Dave (the English gent). We all pitched in whatever we had and ended up making the best fish tacos I have had yet.

Today we are a bit slow on the giddy-up because yesterday we discovered the Ballena. Ballenas are big beers, sort of the Mexican equivalent of a 40oz. save for the lack of malt liquor. A ballena (Spanish for whale) costs 10 pesos, or about a dollar, and unlike the finer U.S. brands like Mickey’s and Colt 45, these are genuine Pacifico. Throw in a few limes and you’ve got a recipe for a late night.

Tonight is our last night at P.S.C. for a few days, we are heading to Cabo San Lucas tomorrow to pick up our buddy Marc, who will be traveling with us for the next week or so. It is always nice to get to see friends, since Dan and I running out of conversational topics, seems he has already heard all of my stories.

We also met Gus and Alicia who are from Australia, while staying at P.S.C. Alicia is pregnant and decided that she didn’t want to work while she was with child, so they took off for a nine-month vacation. Now if I got to travel for another nine months I might start to change my opinion on child bearing. Alas I still have eight months left on this trip and I don’t have to set up a college fund to do it.

Cabo San “Gringos”

Cabo is a stark contrast to Pescadero. Everyone here speaks English, and everything is sold in dollars, not pesos. We spent our first night here at a $17 RV park very close to town. It was a no frills kinda place, but it was fine for our needs. Dan’s sister owns a timeshare down here. Thanks to Tracy we are now staying in her condo for a few days. This place is pretty fancy for a couple of folks who’ve been living in a truck for three months.

The rig in it's upscale parking spot, taking a much needed break.

Condo living.

Dinner in the condo.

Beach peddlers

Last night after we’d checked into our high end digs, we set out to walk the beach and the marina. Guess what we found… a FREE beer stand accompanied by FREE food. Why you ask were we blessed with the opportunity to drink cervesa libre? Well it would seem that we had stumbled into the kick off party for Bisbee. Bisbee is a three-day sport fishing tournament. Dan and I were rubbing elbows with the crème de la crème of the salt water fishing world. We marveled at all of the trophy fish and trophy wives. Also since we have been surrounded by super fit surfer types we were slightly amused at the general physique of the professional fishing “athlete.” Now here’s a sport--you get sun and catch dinner all while drinking cold beer on a boat. Forget this surfing stuff--get me an Ugly Stick!!!

The Bisbee competitors in the start gate.

After we’d abused the free beer tent enough we opted to purchase a cocktail from the piano bar on our way home. What fun. We were the only customers in there, and we were entertained by Bernardo, a classically trained pianist who is finishing up a business/tourism degree. Bernardo even let Dan play the bongos with him.

This morning we sat through the time-share-mafia’s sales pitch. I am happy to report that we came away with a free breakfast, a free boat/snorkeling trip, and no desire to ever buy a condo.

In re-reading this I am beginning to think we sound like drunk freeloaders. C'est la vie.

October 21, 2004
Aeropuerto.

As promised we had Marc on the waves by 3pm. The break we found here to surf is called Old Man’s which seems to suit us just fine. After a nice “welcome to Mexico” surf we returned to the condo for a little R & R. Afterwards we ventured back down to the fishing contest, where we learned that the biggest Marlin caught was 645lbs, and it was caught by a woman!

Tunnel to Old Man's

Long Boarders at Old Man's.

October 22, 2004
Yesterday we surfed all day. Old Man’s proved a nice and friendly surfing spot for Marc and I, but Dan may disagree. His last ride in before lunch he jumped off his board and onto the reef. He cut the bottom of his foot badly and he will have to stay out of the water for a few days. His self diagnosis called for no stitches fortunately and after a few butterfly bandages had been applied, he was able to hobble off to lunch with us.

Doctor Dan.

In the afternoon we all went on a grocery shopping expedition. Being in Mexico makes something as seemingly mundane as buying dinner fixings seem fun. We returned to watch the fishermen weigh their catch and today’s biggest was a measly 440lbs. One more night in condo-ville for us, then it is back to truck living. I am ready.

Bisbee catch.

October 23, 2004
Our last night at the condo proved an exciting one. Due to an unfortunate sewer problem we had to move rooms. Luckily this move got us out of the basement and into a room with a view. Unfortunately though, we were given about 5 minutes to vacate, thus resulting in Chinese Fire Drill type move. This was further compounded by the fact that we had just gotten off of a four-hour, self proclaimed, booze cruise. The nice part about the cruise was that there were enough true drunks onboard to make us realize that our own alcohol consumption is truly recreational and not professional. Also we had gone snorkeling and I even took a marathon swim over to a fishing boat to buy us freshly caught shrimp for dinner, so we were relatively sober. None of this though prepared us for the fire drill and the move proved a bit trying. Later we took our hard earned shrimp up to the restaurant for the “you bring it, we’ll cook it” special, only to learn that due to a very brief and light sprinkle they were closed, our reservation would not be honored. No worries, we cooked up our own shrimp in our new room and had a nice last night.

Los Arcos.

Me on the shrimp boat.

Our catch.

Marc, myself and Dan.

Since the condo folks had been so difficult during our stay, we felt no guilt in schlepping 5 gallon jugs full of their agua purificado from the tap in our room to our truck. It was with a full water tank that we said goodbye to sister Tracy’s condo and headed back to the haven that is the Pescadero Surf Camp.

October 24, 2004
Rainy Day

Today we are being treated to a rare day of rain here in Baja. Just the excuse we all needed to take a day off, let our bodies recover and catch up on some reading. The skies cleared after noon and we surfed some more. Back at the camp we played a rousing game of poor man's poker and I am happy to report that Dan and I earned $80 pesos, or about $8.

Expenses
Fuel $ 41.63
Groceries$ 29.23
Liquor $ 20.81
Treats $ 100.09
Repairs $ -
Camping $ 35.43
Park Fees$ -
Other* $ 60.85
Total $ 288.04
Remainder$ 26.40 *we have a remainder because of carry over money from previous weeks.
*Other includes, surfboard repair, tips and car washing.

Note: As of today we are exactly on budget, meaning that we have just enough left to continue at $40/day through the end of June 2005.

Pescadero y Playa de Cerritos

2004-10-16T12:48:00.000-06:00

October 11, 2004

A few last pictures from Bahia Concepcion.

Bahía Concepción a Norte de Puerto Escondido

We met a nice couple at the campground on the Bahía and we agreed to camp together the following evening at a public beach with no fees and thereby no services or security. Todd and Charlotte are embarking on a trip that makes us feel like failures. They quit their computer industry jobs, sold their house and are driving from South Carolina to Panama, from there they will be heading over to Asia to travel about. Their trip is scheduled to last two years. We had a very nice evening with them and our two refrigerators combined to make a very nice dinner.

Dan, Todd and Charlotte on the beach.

The next day Dan and I headed for La Paz hoping to get our ferry reservations all squared away. No one at the ferry speaks English which didn’t help matters. Through a series of drawings and awkward pauses, while we consulted our dictionary, we were able to figure out that the ferry ride will cost us somewhere between $300 and $500 and that we cannot buy our tickets until November 1st.

Additionally we need to procure a Mexican vehicle permit. This document ensures that we didn’t bring our rig down here to sell, apparently our explaining to them our motives, that this really is our only vehicle and our only housing, is woefully inadequate. Of course the place to get the permit is 17km out of town, it closes at one, current time 1:15, and tomorrow, October 12, is Mexico’s celebration of Columbus Day, they will not be open. So faced with the choice of spending two totally unproductive days in La Paz or continuing on down south where the promise of surf waves beckoned, I bet you can guess where we are now.

October 12, 2004
La Paz a el San Pedrito RV Park, sur de Todos Santos.

Our trusty Surfer’s Guide to Baja informed us that there was cheap camping to be had right at a surf break, south of Todos Santos; so this is where we went. The surf was big, really big, and far too big for surfers of our limited abilities. The camping however was fantastic, and we enjoyed a wonderful night on the beach.

Waves at Pedrito

Our palapa.

Sunrise.

Side bar: The image that kept me going the last 18 months before we left on this trip, was of waking up, opening the camper door onto a beautiful white sand beach with good surfing right out in front. I am getting really close to this dream now and I can almost taste it.

The next morning we again consulted the Surfer’s Guide which led us to a more beginner’s friendly beach, which is where I am now writing this from. This beach, Playa los Cerritos (which I believe means beach of the little hills), is in fact a much better fit with our ability, or lack there of.

The campground here apparently only operates from November through the end of the busy season, as such camping here is currently free. There are about seven other rigs “camped” here, the quotes are because I don’t really think they ever go anywhere else, they seem pretty permanent. Our “neighbor” ,“Juan” (not his real name, seems he’s running from the law for a drug offense, I didn’t ask for specifics), told me enough about some of the locals to make me not feel great about being the only woman for a ten mile radius. Not to mention that Juan, “it’s only a probation violation”, didn’t warm the cockles of my heart either.

I had just about talked myself out of staying here when I was very pleasantly surprised to see Todd and Charlotte pull up. Also another couple we had met the night before, John and Amanda (from Telluride only an hour and a half from our home town) spent the night in the park too.

Our safety in numbers group.

I went to bed convinced I’d be able to sleep, which has been a bit difficult for me since the San Diego intruder incident. Well it seems that “Juan” is a bit of a movie buff, and he likes to watch them ALL FRIGGIN’ night. This requires the use of his rather loud generator. Free campgrounds don’t enforce generator hours I have learned. Since “Juan” was parked right next to us this proved to be rather a nuisance, by midnight it was more of a cause for attack and by 2am when I was still awake it had escalated in my mind to the worst infraction “Juan” has ever committed, one surely punishable by death.

At 3am I turned on our stereo to try and drown out the noise and save myself a murder rap. By the grace of God the movie show finally ended at 4:30, with the generator finally turned off I managed to get a lovely 2.5 hours of sleep. I awoke to find that the more senior residents had already let “Juan” have it, saving him from my wrath, which can be substantial when I am denied either rest or food.

Additional Side Bar: Dan and I have coined the phrase “Hangry”. Hangry is what other’s, apparently better tempermented than ourselves, might refer to as low blood sugar. Except when we fall prey to low blood sugar we get grumpy, hence Hangry.

The "campground" at cerritos and a patrol plane flying over.

Cerritos beach.

Well rested I got up this morning, drank a pot of liquid courage and hit the waves. I am not good. Granted this is my fourth ever time attempting this sport and I can stand up, but I am still very intimidated by the real waves and find myself more at home in the whitewash closer to shore. Dan and spent the morning riding 1-2’ swells, otherwise known as shore break, and then I decided to get some “color”. I spent the remainder of the day tanning and crocheting. Dan requested that I make him a bottle cozy and this presented a new challenge since can cozies are my forte.

Tally for the day: approximately 20 waves caught and two bottle cozies completed.

October 15, 2004

We have been happily camped at the Pescadero Surf Camp for four days now. This place is sort of a surfer's hostel and we have met lots of really nice folks here. E.Z. the caretaker is fantastic as is Laura. Her boyfried the camp's owner, Hymee, is out of town, but none the less Laura and E.Z. have made us feel right at home. Each morning we have been driving to the beach to surf with Dave, who just finished a four-year stint in Cambodia where he was working to remove land mines from their fields (Princess Di's charity). Additionally it seems everywhere we go we are running into Colorado ski industry employees who are enjoying the calm before ski season by surfing down here.

After five stright days of surfing Dan and I are ready for a day off. Surfing has awakened muscle groups that I had forgotten I had, and ever pointy part of my body is bruised. But this sport can be so much fun that scraped and bumps seem a small price to pay.

Off to enjoy a fish taco and a Pacifico. Adios Amigos.

Bungalow at the camp.

The gardens here are magnificient.

Our rig behind the communal kitchen

Dan catching a monster wave.

Information Breakdown

2004-10-14T12:57:00.000-06:00

I have prepared for your reading pleasure a witty, smart and insightful diatribe. However, it seems that I cannot get it from my laptop to the Internet for your enjoyment. This may be the case for a few days and since I don't want you all running off and finding younger, sexier RV bloggers, I am throwing you a web site bone.

The link below is where we have been staying for the past few days. This place is FABULOUS! check out their site and just know that we look exactly like the surfers pictured there, only we aren't really standing up, or in the big waves, but otherwise JUST like.

Hope to be back soon.

http://www.pescaderosurf.com/

Paradise Found

2004-10-10T14:55:00.000-06:00

October 5, 2004
San Diego to Ensanada, Baja California, Mexico.

Dan got back late last night, I am happy to report that we both got a solid eight hours of sleep. Marcellus came down to join us for breakfast at the RV Park. We spent about two hours sipping coffee and telling stories. Did I mention yet how good it is to reconnect with old friends? After breakfast we said our goodbyes and Dan and I headed for the border. We had given a lot of thought to which border crossing to go to and finally decided to brave Tijuana. It turned out to be a piece of cake and we found our way to the toll road with no problems.

We easily motored down to Ensanada in about two hours. We made two stops in the town, the first to get our tourist visas stamped and the other to load up on groceries. It is worth coming to Mexico simply for the fresh tortillas that are sold in the grocery stores. For roughly .50 cents U.S. you get 10-15 fresh corn or flour tortas that are still hot.

All four of the Mexican guide books we have agreed that we need to stay at the Estero Beach Hotel and Resort.

They weren’t wrong, this place is an oasis. It is currently off season so the RV Park is maybe 10% full. We had the pool all to ourselves and now we sit in our beach front spot watching the sunset, drinking COLD Mexican beer with lime (gotta fight off scurvy). Life is really good.

October 8, 2004

Wednesday night we stayed at a remote beach just north of El Rosario. We ventured into El Rosario for lunch before camping and were treated to some wonderful Lobster Burritos at Mama Espenosas. The Baja Surf Guide book helped us find both Mama’s and our camp spot.

Dan had started to make us a nice enough dinner when a man we’d seen snorkeling in front of our camp spot came up with a net full of lobsters he’d just caught. We abandoned our original plan of tacos and for about $4 U.S. set out to make the best lobster dinner I have ever had!

We were up early and on the road. So far HWY 1 has been much better than I had expected it to be. However, it is VERY narrow compared to U.S. roads and each passing semi is cause for the driver’s knuckles to turn white. Yesterday we drove through miles and miles of cactus and Joshua Trees, as well as huge boulder fields and the periodic stands of palms. Things started to flatten out and the scenery became more of what I expected Baja to look like.

Iglesia de Santa Rosalolita

We set our sights on Santa Rosalolita because a friend of ours said it is a great little surf town. To get there you must travel 7 miles on dirt/ washboard roads. After about an hour traveling around 10mph and being jostled about like we were corn being popped, we arrived at the charming little pueblo of Santa Rosalolita. Much to our dismay however there were no waves, it was dead calm.

Iglecia De Santa Rosalolita.

Dan was a bit spent from hours of white-knuckle driving so we got him a Mexican Coke (Coca-Cola not the illicit kind). Now if you have never had one then put it on your to-do in Mexico list. As best as I can figure, Mexican Coke is similar to its American counterpart only in that it is brown and has the unmistakable label. Mexican coke, however, is served up in real bottles, it is less carbonated and perhaps sweeter than American Coke. Neither of us drinks soda regularly but Mexican Coke is a real treat.

Anyway now that Dan was sufficiently hopped up on sugar and Caffeine we returned the way we had come, and decided we’d spend the night Guerro Negro, a salt mining town
just south of the Baja California Sur State line. We are now in the lower half of Baja. We passed through our first federale check point with flying colors and did not have to resort to bribery with the ice cold cokes, water or smut magazines we keep on hand for such occasions.

October 10, 2004
Today marked our first foray into eastern Baja and onto the Sea of Cortés. We stopped in Santa Rosalia to check on the ferry system and learned that we need to obtain another permit before we book our ferry ride. We will be spending a day in La Paz later next week to get this all sorted out.

On the road from Guerro Negra and Sant Rosalia we hit our second Military Checkpoint and this time we did resort to gifts of cold bottled water and Coke. These Federales were more experienced in fleecing tourists it seemed and the only places they “inspected” were our cooler and under our mattress. Clearly they know where to look for cold drinks and smut mags. Fortunately for us we had been told to bring a stocked cooler and mags for such occasions. We forgot to get the mags, so the young man was sorely disappointed that there was nothing but dust under our mattress.

Rio De Mulegé.

Later in the day we visited Mulegé, which is the nicest little town we have seen in terms of architecture and because it has a spring-fed river running through it, it has a very tropical feel. There is a restored Franciscan Mission there and we toured it.

We have spent the last two days camped in a fabulous campground on the Bahía Concepcíon. For about $6.00 a day we have a private palapa on the southern point of this bay. There is a wonderful restaurant here run by the owners and we have treated ourselves to a few meals there. Aside from the complete solitude we are enjoying, there is also some pretty good snorkeling right off this point. On our snorkeling trips we have seen numerous rays, Puffer Fish, a Scorpian Fish, Sea Stars and I even got up close and personal with a Jelly Fish. We have had two wonderful days of complete rest and relaxation.

Not-So-Sunny San Diego

2004-10-04T18:53:00.001-06:00

Today was one of those simple days, the kind where you get a lot done and enjoy the work involved, where since I am alone I did everything for myself and relished the self satisfaction that comes with independence. Just what I really needed. The last few days have left me near exhaustion and as frazzled as I have been since this journey began.

Dan flew out Friday morning for Jackson, WY. Barbara Marie Goddard, my mother-in-law, had a birthday this weekend. Not just any birthday mind you, but one of those big ones where mothers want their children near them. Her request was to have a weekend with her boys, no wives, no grandchildren. While I am sure that rafting and fly fishing would have been fun too, I was perfectly happy to get some alone time and I had surf camp to attend.

After I dropped Dan off our friend Jack, who lives in San Diego, picked me up for a city tour. We drove all along the coast in Jack’s convertible Mustang and I marveled at how well it corners compared to our behemoth.

Parasailers above Black's beach.

Del Mar at sunset.

After dinner Jack dropped me back off at the truck which was parked in front of our friend Kevin’s house in Del Mar, my first ever night all alone in the camper. I awoke early Saturday and rushed off to La Jolla to find a suitable parking spot for my surf class. I have no problem driving our rig, but I am willing to show up an hour early if it means I donn’t have to back the truck. Since we are dedicating the next three months to the pursuit of surfing, I am very pleased to report that I didn’t suck. In fact I stood up on my first try and a few times afterward.

After class I procured the phone number for another friend and was very pleasantly surprised to hear that he was in town. This friend is Sergeant Michael Marcellus Williams of the U.S. Marine Corps, just back from Iraq. Not only was Marcellus home, but this very day happened to be his welcome home party. I drove out to Oceanside and after getting the “fertilizer bomb check out” at the gate was admitted onto Camp Pendleton Military Base. Marcellus’ party was a fabulous affair, celebrated by his family, his wife Shannon, their two boys Gabriel and Lacy, and the family of another returning marine named Adrian. The joy and relief among the families was palpable.

I ducked out of the party at around 11:30 so as to get some good rest before my next surf lesson, and because I was beat. Truth is I don’t sleep well when I am alone, so the night before hadn’t been very restful and my body was fatigued and sore from surfing. I was parked in the driveway of Marcellus’ neighbor, on the military base and no more than 70’ from Marcellus’ front door.

Part of what is so great about this trip is the opportunity to catch up with old friends. Marcellus (pictured above) and I went to high school together in Cincinnati, Ohio. He wants me to tell you all that he dated Carmen Electra (she went to our school too), I will refrain from further comment on the validity of this statement ;)

At around 3:30am I woke up because I heard some weird metallic sound. My mind likes to play tricks on me when I am stirred late at night, so I tried to dismiss the noise as something outside, wind maybe, but it hadn’t sounded like the wind. I fell back asleep…then I felt a movement in the truck, my cackles went up. Nahhh Rachel, your head’s playing tricks on you. Then, a few moments later another movement, this time I didn’t stop to evaluate, someone else was in my truck and that was one person too many. I went from flat on my back in bed to up through the emergency hatch and standing tall on my roof 11’ above the ground, this happened in less than a second.

“Who’s there? What is going on?” I yelled out. Then I saw him, a man crouching on the ground in front of my truck trying to figure out where the voice was coming from and then which way he should run. We saw each other at the same moment, he froze, I started screaming bloody murder, he took off.

I woke up half the neighborhood. While sleeping in your camper on a military base is seemingly not as safe as one might think, there is an amazing neighborhood watch system. Military wives, who have been living alone while their husbands are at war, are fast to respond. Had this been 1950 they would have run out with rolling pins in hand, since it is 2004 they came armed with cordless phones and flashlights.

The next hour was spent with the MP’s, Marcellus, Shannon and Adrian’s wife who was one of the first wives to come to my rescue. My best guess is that this guy thought my rig looked like a good truck to rob. My doors to the truck cab were open- (I realize at this point that many of you are thinking how could I leave the doors unlocked, I remind you I was on base at my Marine Sergeant friend’s house and when I went to bed 15 people were still celebrating 20’ from me), I assume this criminal had no idea anyone was asleep in there and when he heard me yell I am surprised he didn’t soil my seat.

Needless to say I could not sleep after that. At 7:00 I finally gave up and drove back down to La Jolla. I’d guess that I had gotten about 5 hours of real sleep in the last 48, so surf lessons sounded a bit daunting. Never the less I rallied and enjoyed another two hours of paddling, standing and generally getting trundled in the surf. After class I took out my new board tried and succeeded to catch 3 waves and then poured myself back into the camper to try and rest. No luck, I never have been a good napper.

I decided that if there was any chance that I’d be able to sleep I needed to check back into the RV resort/park we’d stayed in the week before. I procured a spot, set up camp and went and lay by the pool. Kevin called and invited me to dinner with he and his girlfriend Amanda. I left the pool and packed up camp enough to drive up to Del Mar. For the first time I decided to leave my water and sewer hookups in place, I would only be gone an hour or so and this is a nice place. Dinner was lovely and I excused myself before I had a chance to pass out in my salad plate. I got back to the RV park and went to my spot, only to find out that while I was gone someone had swiped my water hose, water filter and pressure regulator. However, they were kind enough to leave my sewer hose.

This is where I had a minor breakdown. Basically I was completely tapped out, and now I didn’t feel safe in this $70/ night resort. Also Dan and Kevin both had insisted that I stay at Kevin’s house, so I felt like a jackass for having been so stubborn. My argument was that I had to stay in the camper, and get over my newly heightened fear of being alone at night or I may never be able to sleep in the damn thing again.

The nice lady at the front desk moved me to the month-long stay portion of the park, where she assured me “only real nice people stay”. I pulled off a miraculous backing job, managing not to hit either the fence or the Class A that flank me by about 2' on either side. I put a DVD in the computer and watched a comedy I had seen before. Additionally I downed most of a bottle of wine as a form of self-medicating. Something worked because I got six hours of somewhat fitful, but satisfactory sleep.

Dan flies in tonight. He is forbidden to take a “bump” thereby leaving me alone for another night. Staying alone last night really was good for me; my intuition/ perception have been tested and passed with flying colors. If dan gets stuck in Salt Lake, I feel certain that I can find another bottle of wine and get at least 7 hours of sleep.

Tomorrow we leave San Diego behind. Goodbye Santee, goodbye refrigerator repairmen, goodbye would-be car thieves and water system crooks; I won’t miss any of you. Jack, Kevin, Marcellus and family, thank you for looking after me, you all I will miss!

Onward to Mexico where it’s safe!

Installation of our new circuit board

Final conclusion on the fridge. We decided to tempt fate and just put in a new circuit board rather than a whole new fridge, since then everything is working fabulously. Two days and four mechanics couldn't bring us to the conclusion that about ten people fellow RVers could after I posted to our favorite RV Forum.

If you RV and you have not visited the RV Forum link on here then you really must. In ten minutes I had more information from those who've been there before, then I could get from mechanics and manufacturers. Once again the forum has saved us, and this time it saved us about a grand and another day or two in Santee. Thank you to those who responded to my plea for help.

The hot stays hot and the cold stays cold...how do it know?

2004-09-29T17:50:00.000-06:00

They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. The road to my own personal hell however, is paved with Dometic refrigerator circuit boards and cooling elements, additionally it seems to parallel HWY 52 and end up in Santee, California.

For months now our fridge has been prone to fits. It likes to stop working sporadically, and like a giant, evil Cyclops it stares at us from its centrally located "CHECK" light. This problem was addressed by us in Durango not more than ten days ago. However, the admitted $100 "stab in the dark" the repair guys took there has proven grossly inadequate.

As best as we lay persons can surmise, our fridge needs $1100 worth of repairs. Cost of a new fridge $850. So this is simple, we have buy a new fridge. It sucks, it's bad timing and in our travel economy it is akin to 21 days on the road. But when life throws you lemons you make nicely refrigerated lemonade right??? Of course not.

See it seems that when camper manufactures build a camper, or as we learned today even high end Class A RVs, they build the inside first. Then they put on jams and doors that are too small to fit the installed appliances through. Our fridge is 24" at its narrowest point, our door is 20.5". You do the math- not good is it.

Resolution? Buy a new fridge, totally gut new fridge, then re-build new fridge inside of camper. Nice huh? Don't forget that this will take time and labor to do. Cost of labor $85/ hour.

I realize this is a bit of a rant and I do try not to complain on here, because really, what on earth do I have to complain about. Mainly I post this as an FYI. If anyone should be reading along and thinking "I'd like to do what they are doing" then I offer this advice. When you visit your local RV dealer, bring along a tape measure.

Thanks go out to the following folks; Bob and Mike at Double-D RV. Rob, Lenny and Rob's wife (sorry I didn't catch your name) at Howell's RV Appliance Repair. And especially Wyn, a very nice man who was having his RV repaired and invited us to his house for a full hook-up and a place to call home while we await repairs. Yet again we are astounded by the kindness of others.

Chapter Two

2004-09-27T10:19:00.000-06:00

Our trip has a few legs, or chapters. The first chapter was from day one of unemployment through our trip down the Grand. This new chapter will take us through this fall and Mexico.

Zion National Park/ The Subway.

We met up with Brother Pat, his friends Eric, Chris and Joyce, and our beloved Meredith, Friday afternoon in Hurricane, Utah. We kicked off the weekend with a nice bike ride out on Gooseberry Mesa outside of town. From there we headed up to Kolbob Reservoir Near the Northwest corner of Zion park.

Fly fisher on Kolbob Reservoir.

The morning before we met everyone we visited the backcountry permits' office in the park and procured a permit for The Subway. This is a canyoneering hike 9-10 miles in length. Saturday morning we rallied early and headed for the trail. Little did I know how truly amazing this day would be.

The hike begins in a conifer forest and then opens up onto a slick rock basin, before dropping into the slot canyon that the hike is known for. During the hike we scrambled over boulders, swam through deep 45 degree pools and even rappelled a 30' cliff face. Here are the pictures.

Joyce walking along the slick rock section.

This was the first technical move. A shimmy/ fall down a 12' boulder.

Pools along the route.

One of the pools we waded/ swam through.

We tried to straddle over this pool, we all ended up swimming at least some of it.
From here we swam another pool, probably 100' long and 4' wide with a boulder chalked in the walls above the pool, this proved to be the longest pool.

The actual "Subway".

To access the rappel, you must cross over a 30' falls by walking over a fallen tree which acts as a bridge.

Dan posing on the rappel.

Have I mentioned that I am not a big fan of heights?

Pat made a friend along the way- and no he didn't really eat this guy.

Cascades on the lower section of the hike.

Brother Pat really liked all the frogs, he took this picture.

Sunday morning we were all a bit slow to rise. The Subway hike had taken us almost eight hours to complete and we were all feeling muscles we had long since forgotten about. After breakfast we decided to hike another canyon, albeit a much shorter hike than the previous days'. Our hike took a detour when we realized that the canyon we had intended to hike was filled with smoke from a nearby fire. Instead we hiked a maintenance road to get a view of the fire.

The canyon we meant to hike.

Our Group.

The fire that thwarted our hike.

Last night we decided a culture shock might be fun, so we said goodbye to our friends and the wilderness and headed for wild life. Vegas baby, Vegas. Dan had never been to Sin City. We found a nice spot in a casino parking lot, easily accessible from I-15. This particular casino lot, which is adorned with various medieval flags, has no overhangs, no fees and is a nice enough place to catch a few winks after walking the strip.

Despite my inherent loathing for this town, it does fascinate me in a morbid sort of way. Additionally per various conventions I have attended here, and a class I took in college, I know a lot about the place. I gave Dan the .25 cent tour of the strip complete with a few free shows. After an all-you-can-eat dinner we headed for a craps table. Two hours later I was right back where I started with $20 and had "earned us" eight free beers. Really, what more can you ask for? Our night's sleep in the parking lot went undisturbed. This morning we had biscuits and gravy, 3 eggs, hash browns and toast for $6 total- I suppose this town does have a thing or two going for it after all.

Currently I post this from I-15 while traveling at 65mph in the Mojave National Preserve. We hope to hit the beach tonight.

On the Road Again

2004-09-23T17:26:00.000-06:00

We are slowly recovering from 5 days of (it pains me to say the word...) WORK. Yes we were offered a chance to earn some moolah once we returned to Durango and we felt we couldn't turn it down. Thanks to our buddies at The Ski Barn for always employing us, and for making work as painless as possible :) We spent last weekend in Breckenridge selling ski equipment. This proved to be a wise decision on our part, since our brakes had been squeaking and as we feared they needed replacement. Additionally our fridge has been acting up. Total cost of needed repairs approach. $600.00. Total earnings for the week about $700.

But never fear dear reader, this was a temporary affliction and we are happy to be posting this evening from Zion Nation Park in S.W. Utah. We are on our way to once again meet up with Brother Pat. (Some of you have written to tell us that you, on occasion, live vicariously through us. Would someone please let Pat know that this is best done from afar, and via computer?) This visit is special though because my dear friend Meredith will also be joining us, and the three of us can surely manage Pat.

We left Durango yesterday and boondocked in Dixie National Forest.

The spot was absolutely devoid of other people and it was a fabulous first night back home in the camper.

Lunch in Bryce Canyon

Today we drove through Bryce and Zion, both firsts for us, and both on the must see list. Hiking and biking are plentiful in both parks and the rock formations are surreal.

While in Bryce we hiked up Mossy Cave trail, here are some pictures from the hike.

Waterfall and rock formations along the trail.

Arches, there were actually three windows/ arches here.

Dang in the window seat

Tonight we are camped in South Camp in Zion. Tomorrow we have a 7am date with the backcountry permits' office across the road.

The Grand Cayon 2004

2004-09-15T16:01:00.000-06:00

For this 21-day tour we have amassed a team of seasoned professionals.

Here's the team: (as you read this to yourself it helps use your own personal boxing ring announcer voice...)

Our fearless tripping leader, and dutch oven master. Bjorn "D-John" Sutton

The beautiful and talented co-tripping leader, and owner of two boats, Mrs. Brook "Floozie/ Flippy" Sutton.

The court jester and beholder of frightening amounts of trivial knowledge, Sarah "Swiller" Henrikson.

Ever even keeled, (with the possible exception of tequila night) Colin "Sutt" Sutton.

The Dapper Don of our crew, Ryan "Dodger" Dodge, a.k.a. Mr. P.

The only woman tough enough to tame the Dapper Don, Jonika "Nadja" Horton.

The anti- tripping leader, class clown and man my husband is no longer allowed to call his friend, Eric "Weinklos" Weink.

The second best kayaker on the trip, the ever tolerant and lovely Mrs. Jamie "Hymee" Weink.

Safety boater extraordinaire and nine-time canyon runner, Mike "Skumby" Werner

The only woman crazy enough to put up with Mike, the not-so-into-spicy, Carol Viau.

Perhaps the only person who is really qualified for this trip, the ruggedly handsome and boatedly endowed, Kipp Ertl

In this corner, the ginger-haired waif from southeast London, John "Blades" Williamson, a.k.a. The Ferrel Cat Slayer.

Bestower of all things NRS and stasher of copious amounts of Coors Light, Juan "Cheezemo" Cullum.

The only person who really ever knew where in the heck we were... and the only person whose last name I do not know.... Val.

Guardian of the groover, beholder of germs galore, the toilet ticket from Page Arizona, Crapper Crab.

And finally the home team...

The love of my life, guide of all guides, weighing in at 31 going on 71, Daniel "Dang/ Bunny" Goddard.

And yours truly. Barer of few clothes, consumer of too much vodka and co-flipper extraordinaire, Rachel "Ratchet/ Honey Bunny" Goddard.

Now that we've met the team let's get on with the show.

(In an attempt to make this as easy on you, the reader/ viewer, I am going to upload segments masked as different dates, so that there are never too many pictures to upload at once. Hope this helps. )

Note: Alright I have now dedicated many hours to this series of postings. I am no longer able to proof read my own typing so I am certain this is riddled with errors, I trust you will all overlook these. Anyone want to offer to correct all of my posts for me?? It is my hope that any errors will not detract too much from the general content.

Next

The Big Ditch Part One

2004-09-14T15:12:00.000-06:00

Ditch Journal.

Day One En Route: We awoke at 5:45 and loaded into our fully laden vehicles for the five hour drive. We made a pit stop in Page, AZ for last minute provisions including river costumes. Once in Lee’s Ferry we met our ranger, Ray, and began the seven-hour task of prepping and rigging our boats. About two-hours in we were treated to a torrential rain storm. We all mobilized to cover the beer with tarps, so as to save the cardboard boxes, before we sought shelter. Ranger Ray would site this event the next day in our official ranger meeting.

Additionally Ranger Ray informed us that we could expect flows of 16,000-18,000 through the end of August, then the flows will drop to 6,000- 8,000.

That evening we enjoyed a “last supper” of sorts at the Marble Canyon Lodge. I opted for chicken fried steak smothered in green chili and my last ice-cold bottled beer for 21 days. We spent the night in the rafter’s campground along side the river and were serenaded by the hundreds of frogs there.

Entrance Bouy.

Day One River: Up early. It’s launch day. Our meeting with Ranger Ray was scheduled for 9am, but he showed up early and sat in on our group meeting. After our meeting was over the love fest began. Ray LOVED us! He waved us through, sighting the previous day’s comradery and attention to detail when we sacrificed ourselves for the beer cases. This was particularly cool because there are hundreds of ranger check-out horror stories out there. Groups forced to drive back to Page to buy new life jackets because theirs are slightly faded for example. But not us, we got the green light and hit the rio at noon.

The entire group at the put-in.

We floated a mellow 11 miles, the first 100’ were the most pristine green waters ever but then Pariah Creek came in and muddied the river to the color and consistency of a latte. The river would remain this way until we hit the lake 293 miles downstream. We floated under the Navajo Bridge the only automobile bridge we would pass. Now 1600’ deep the canyon walls rose above and I realized, wow…after all of the years of waiting and anticipating I am in the Grand Canyon!!!

Mile 7.4 marked our first Grand Canyon rapid. Generally accepted river ratings are I-VI. Class I being lake water and VI considered unrunnable in a raft. The Grand has so many rapids and they are so big that they use a 1-10 scale. Our first rapid was Badger a 4-6, a big wave train, it was a blast. Our first night’s camp was above Soap Creek Rapid.

Day Two: Our plan is to have early mornings and get on the water before afternoon showers and winds kick in. We woke up per the plan and hit the river. Dan and I were alone on our raft today which was nice since we are a bit shell shocked being around people again. Our social skills leave a bit to be desired after two months mostly alone.

This was an amazing day, filled with rollercoaster waves and ever deepening canyon walls. We are six layers deep in rock now and I am not convinced that we are seeing the top of the canyon from down here.

Two big rapids today. House Rock and mile 24.5 both have huge waves and the Prince William, our only bucket (non self-bailing) boat got swamped, the bilge pump got a heck of a workout. The rapids seem tame compared to the eddy lines down here. Each eddy has the power to suck us in and stops us in our tracks. Top Gun quotes started flowing right about here. A boat sucked into an eddy while another passes by in the current solicits a “we’ll hit the breaks and they’ll fly right on by”. A boat getting spun in an eddy line gets a “ Maverick, we’re entering a flat spin”. And if all the boats pass a boat stuck in an eddy cries of “never leave your wingman” can be heard.

Day Three: Eric’s 30th Birthday.
We hit the water early and made good miles to Nankoweap., mile 52. Only one rapid along the way, President Harding is essentially just one big rock in the river which you skirt on the left.

Our Nankoweap camp.

In camp we lounged in the river until it was cool enough to hike up to the graineries and the most famous (if you rate fame by number of postcards with the same picture on them) grand canyon view. The view is all it cracked up to be.

The view.

Nankoweep Graineries.

We returned to fully decorated camp and the birthday party began. Everyone put on their birthday party costumes and traded in their beer cans for margarita glasses.

A very fine day indeed.

Kip's raft early on.

Day Four:
A shorter river day today. Half of the group got dropped off to hike the Carbon Creek trail. The remaining folks rowed the boats down to camp where the hikers would be meeting us later. Among those of us in camp early was Blades. Blades lives in Aspen and I had never met him before. He kept us entertained with stories from his rugby days in England and we became fast friends. Dan and I served Groover Gin and Tonics. A groover is a portable crapper. Originally they were simply ammo cans which left grooves on you butt cheeks. The new generation groover is essentially a giant plastic water bottle. So before it has EVER been used for its intended purpose it makes for a nice cocktail tub. We have six groovers for this trip and we will fill them all.

Vasey's Paradise.

Catadyn Filter, our water source. We collect clear water where we can and filter it for drinking.

Next

The Big Ditch Part Two

2004-09-13T17:25:00.000-06:00
Day Six:
This was a big day. A really BIG day! We ran Unkar and hiked through the archeological site there. We scouted Hanse rapid and I wanted my mommy! We picked our line and learned that the river picks your line down here, not you. Afterwards we ran Sockdolager and Grapevine Rapids which are my favorite rapids, super fun and big wave trains.

Pottery Shards at Unkar.

The canyon changed today from Red and tan sandstone to medieval looking granite. Powell’s expedition noted how this did not bode well for them because the harder the rocks they found, the harder the rapids. Tomorrow Jonika leaves us so tonight we celebrate her and enjoy our remaining time together.

Day Seven:
We bid adieu to our beloved Jonika and were so sad to see her go and to see Dodger so sullen at her departure. A few of us hiked up to Phantom Ranch and were rewarded with packages from family and friends. Our booty included homemade cookies, which remarkably survived the ten-mile mule ride, snacks and money which was converted into iced lemonade for all. Special thanks to my folks, Kim and Mike, Dave and Sue and cousin Heather.

Mule train at Phantom Ranch.

Back on the river for another big day. Right away we hit Horn Creek, you enter the rapid through two rocks or horns and run her down the gut. Then came granite and again my mommy was no where to be found. Hermit was super fun, with the biggest waves I had ever seen. All runs were clean and I was just starting to feel really good about our chances. Then came Crystal, the ugliest meanest looking rapid I have ever seen. From the scout you cannot see the sneak run so it is truly mortifying. We watched two J-Rigs come through, these boats are about 40’ long, this should give you an idea of how big these rapids are.

Dodger and Sutt in Hermit.

Juan in Hermit.

Day Eight:
Since our camp was occupied we had a slightly modified layover day. Traditionally a layover day is a respite from the day to day tasks of load the boats, unload the boats. We only had to float 100’ to Bass Camp so we Beverly Hillbillied down the river.

Once in camp we realized the short comings of this layover spot. #1- no shade! #2 a nasty eddy in front of the camp, so no easy access to swimming waters in which to cool ourselves. Well we aren’t whiners, we’ll just drink the heat away. In the afternoon we hiked to Shinumo Creek and cooled off in the clear water.

Day Nine:
A fun day of Class 5 rapids. We did a group hike up to Elves Chasm and all jumped off the waterfall. Elves is yet another oasis in the desert.

Elves Chasm.

Day Ten:
Big fun Rapids today. Specter Rapid was especially of note. Bedrock was a technical and potentially nasty rapid. Prince William spent some extra time in the eddy here. Dubendorf caused Dan to call out his first “Oh Shit!” command, as we hit the two biggest holes in the rapid. Somewhere in here Dan managed to throw out his back which lead to him not rowing much in the following days. We all did a huge hike up Tapeat’s Creek to thunder River. This was a fun hike for Dan who did it ten years ago. At Thunder River you can climb into the rock wall where the water comes flying out of the cliff. Inside is a labyrinth of caves with waist deep pools of freezing water.

Next

The Big Ditch Part Three

2004-09-12T17:27:00.000-06:00
Days Eleven and Twelve:
We hiked Deer Creek today. I had been looking forward to this hike most of all. The creek runs through carved red sandstone winding along to a 100’+ waterfall. Blades took a rock to the head on the hike and was pleasantly ga-ga for about an hour.

Dan's feet over Deer Creek.

Jamie and me at Deer Creek.

Deer Creek Caverns.

Just downstream from Deer Creek we lucked into the greatest layover camp ever. Poncho’s Kitchen is blessed with a huge overhang and day-long shade. The beach here was perfect for horse shoes and volleyball, we all spent a fabulous day recreating. Two of our crew brought black lights along to hunt for scorpions with. Incase you have not enjoyed this particular activity I’ll explain. Scorpions glow under black lights. They are really easy to spot and pretty cool to see. After our hunting trip my knee managed to find the only rock on the beach, injury number three.

Morning Yoga class.

Day Thirteen:
Dan’s back was still really hurting him so he took a ride on Prince William. Brook and I took my boat for the day. Around noon we all hiked up Matkatanuba Canyon, a sandstone slot canyon. Also a very cool hike I would love to be able to do again.

Olo Canyon above Matkatanuba.

Matkatanuba Canyon.

Brook and I loaded back into the raft, we were just a few miles above our camp and there was just one rapid in between. Our guide books had been really helpful and very accurate up until now. I checked the map and Brook and I had a chuckle over the description of upset rapid a class 3-8. This is a mighty big spread. Up until now we had been scouting everything over a class 7. The water had dropped down considerably in the last few days and we all assumed the rapid would more along the class 3 lines. We were wrong.

Brook lined up our raft perfectly, we tried to skirt the big holes by running right but the river took us and there was nothing we could do. The first hole slowed us to a crawl and delivered us into the belly of the beast, or the second hole, which delivered the knockout punch. The flip happened in slow motion for me I was acutely aware of everything that was happening. Brook and I both ended up under the boat and had to feel our way out. We came up on the same side of the raft and shared a big grin before trying to rectify our situation. It was the first flip for both of us, we were both fine and it couldn’t have happened in a better place. We re-flipped the boat and had pulled to shore for a complete inventory within ten minutes. Total cost of the flip: one sarong, one beer can and one visor. This was a very successful flip. Dan’s chest swelled at the fabulous rigging job he had done.

In camp Brook and I got the royal treatment and we recounted our tale to anyone who’d listen.

Day Fourteen.
Today was a mellower river day. We spent three hours hiking up Havasu Creek. What a phenomenal place. The hike is long and difficult now, due to a flash flood a few years back. The rewards are pool after pool of cascading clear turquoise pools and falls.

Havasu Creek.

Rattler along side Havasu.

Goat at Havasu.

We got to camp pretty late, ate and all went to bed early. Lava’s coming up tomorrow.

Next

The Big Ditch Part Four

2004-09-11T17:29:00.000-06:00
Day Fifteen:
The build up to Lava was maddening. Ten miles of flat water and the entire time you know the biggest baddest rapid is coming up. Lava is legendary, every river runner knows about this rapid. Lava rapid is the fastest moving navigable water in the western hemisphere. One mile above we all pulled over and kissed the Vulcan’s Anvil, a huge lava rock in the river, a kiss for good luck.

Scouting Lava.

Well kissing the rock seemed to work, all six boats made it through right-side-up, although some more cleanly than others. Due to the low water level all boats had to run the right line, there was no left sneak route.

Prince William running Lava.

Juan and Val in Lava.

Kip and Blades in Lava.

Brook and Bjorn's Lava Run.

Lunch afterwards was an immediate drunk fest. What a weight off of all of our shoulders. There are still rapids below Lava, and they can flip boats, but this is the big bully of the Colorado and to have him behind you is a relief.

Motor Rig hauling our drunks to shore after Lava.

In camp Werner introduced to the Lava Follies. He began the show with his rendition of Hatchmo the desert elephant. He and Dan were transformed into Hatchmo with the aid of a tarp, a lifejacket, and a fun noodle. Eric Weink and I performed our river couples skit and no one was spared from our aping them. Werner and Dodger took us on a magic bus ride which was all just an excuse to throw buckets of water on the unsuspecting participants. The night was a blast.

Day Sixteen:I rowed all day today, up till now I had only rowed for a few miles each day. This day felt like a layover day on the boats. With Lava behind us everyone mellowed out. We blared our stereos and enjoyed a wonderful float. We had game night in camp, chess, backgammon and hearts.

Day Seventeen:
We camped at mile 220 the cook crew made mushroom polenta, this pared with the bean salad at lunch lead to the demise of groover #4. This was another nice camp for horseshoes, and we played a game of bocce ball before dinner.

An afternoon sun shower.

Day Eighteen:
Oops we missed the take out.

Exit Bouy.

Most Grand trips take out at mile 226, Diamond Creek, but not us, we are going to the lake. We camped at mile 236 the infamous Separation Canyon. This is where three men from Powell’s crew left the mission and hiked out, resulting in their mysterious deaths. Strange to be camped in a spot with such a past.

Conclusion

The Big Ditch Part Five

2004-09-10T17:34:00.000-06:00
Day Nineteen:

The river is becoming increasingly calm now. There is still current though and we are hopefully it will last or we'll have a long haul across the lake. We camped on river left just below a tourist trip heli-pad. There were choppers coming in every five minutes. Welcome back to reality.

At dusk we were treated to visitors. Eric and Becky, friends from back home stopped by in the motor rig they operate for Hatch. They showered us with beer, ice and fresh vegetables.

Day Twenty:
Spent this day on the Blazing Paddles with Jamie and Brook, a nice girl's day. After lunch we shifted around a bit and Eric, Sutt, Brook and I loaded on the P.W. for the long haul ahead. On this day we covered 30 miles, much more than we thought we'd be able to at this late stage. We are now camped on Lake Meade. Only 4 mile left to go.

The last day:
We all drug our feet this morning, not wanting this to end. Finally we loaded the boats and began pulling across the lake. About an hour later Brent and Bonnie, Brook's parents, met us in their ski boat.

We took a few turns water skiing and then they pulled us to South Cove, the take-out.

We spent about three hours de-rigging and began saying our goodbyes. Some left for Aspen, others for Jackson and one for a new home in Dallas and his beloved Jonika. The rest of us non-working types stayed for another day of skiing and re-adjustment.

This trip was everything I thought it would be and so much more. The canyon is magnificent, the water exhilarating and the companionship unsurpassed. If you have the chance to run the Colorado through the Grand Canyon, do not let it pass you by. This place is truly magical and should be enjoyed by all.

Parting shots.

Dan and Rach at Havasu.

Take out coyote.

Raft Bed.