Archive for the ‘United States’ Category

Tropical Storm Hanna

Wednesday, September 3rd, 2008

What’s left of Tropical Storm Hanna passed through Portsmouth, Rhode Island last night. That makes one tornado and one tropical storm since we arrived here in late July. Where was this weather in Tahoe the last two winters?

So yes, we made it out of Tucson and we stayed there long enough this time to really start liking it. But then again, we fled just as it was getting to be summer. What a lovely spring they have there though.

Our plan to follow the border fell apart in El Paso. I guess we only had about three border towns in us. Mexico reminded us too much of those aspects of travel that we were trying to get away from. So we bee-lined it for Florida thinking that maybe we’d finally get around to taking those sailing lessons we swore to ourselves that we’d take back in, oh, Greece. Or Croatia. Or Italy. Or Thailand. The list correlates strongly with those places that are warm and wet and have good food. Places you’d love to stay longer in, if only you had a nice comfy pillow.

Unfortunately, we’re idiots. You don’t take sailing lessons in Florida in the summer. In fact, the school we were most interested in attending packs up and heads to Newport for the summer. Oh the irony.

After Florida, we headed for Savannah and Charleston and discovered that late spring is not the time to visit here either. That’s peak tourist season, since it gets pretty miserable for the duration of the summer. The Little White Haired Old Lady (LWHOL) meter was pegged. Pegged, I tell you.

Charleston left us pretty close to some of the best BBQ in the south, so we headed for my alma mater, Chapel Hill (Go Heels!).

I’m happy to report that Allen & Son and Bullocks still serve some of the tastiest pork on the planet. And Chapel Hill and Carborro are still mostly the same sleepy college town I left in 1986. There are changes, of course. Because of some bad tax decisions, businesses have largely abandoned Franklin Street for Carborro, which is good for Carborro and not so good for Chapel Hill. One positive result however was the closing of the Gap which blighted the corner of Franklin and Columbia. That Gap was to Chapel Hill what Borders is to Pacific Ave in Santa Cruz. Good riddance!

It’s a blur after Chapel Hill. We did check off a few states neither of us had been to: Oklahoma (okay, that was before Florida), Wisconsin, and Nebraska come to mind. But save for the most horrific Christmas store on the planet, Bronner’s in Frakenmuth, Michigan (where’s the umlaut?), there’s not much to recall. We did enjoy our time in South Dakota and Wyoming. We’d bought a National Park pass way back in El Morro, and we were determined to get our money out of it. We think we broke even in Yellowstone, which is always a delightfully surreal experience. We also highly recommend the Antler Inn in Jackson, if you’re ever in need of a relatively cheap moose-themed motel with fast WiFi. What’s not to like there?

By this point we were aiming for a sailing school in Seattle which would get us out on the Puget Sound and save us from living life east of the Mississippi. About a month later, we were not-so-proud holders of American Sailing Association (ASA) 101 & 103 certification, which means, well, almost nothing really. I think we spent about 8 hours in a sailboat, total. Think of it as a vague introduction to sailing, with a tedious written.

We were digging the sailing, so we started trying to figure out how to get more sailing time on bigger boats. What we finally settled on was chartering this boat out of Bellingham and paying an instructor to liveaboard with us for two days and teach us ASA 104, which along with the 101/103 is the minimum you need, in theory, to charter boats around the planet. Take that with a grain of salt, really. Because what anyone who actually charters boats looks for is logged experience, not ASA certification. But it was useful in the sense that 101/103 let us charter something out of Bellingham and after we dropped our 104 instructor off in Friday Harbor, we had five days of sailing around Puget Sound on our own.

(To Audrey and Bas: we sailed around Lopez but the entrance at Fisherman’s Cove is considered to be one of the trickiest in the sound. There’s a submerged rock there that likes to bite boats and a really narrow channel into the harbor and our charter company pretty much warned us not to go there. We tried the cell as we were passing, but there was no at&t coverage. Wow, if you’re going to live out in the middle of nowhere, you sure picked a nice middle of nowhere to live in!)

Kudos to San Juan Sailing, an absolutely first class charter company. And I say that even though we were forced to participate in a group prayer during the mandatory Skipper’s orientation meeting. Om namai Shiva, we were both thinking. Or was that praise Buddha? The mind boggles. Regardless, if you’re ever wanting to charter a boat on the Puget Sound, go straight to these guys.

Realizing that there’s just no economical way to sail a boat big enough to live on, we started looking for a sailboat to buy. By this time we’d consumed quite a few sailing and cruising books (”cruising” is a sailing term that means living on a boat for the purpose of actually going places as opposed to trying to impress people with the size of a boat you never sail) and had narrowed the field down to a Pacific Seacraft 40. That’s about the biggest boat either of us felt we could be comfortable on in the short term, but still capable of sailing around the world. There were only four for sale in the states and the newest one (1999) was also the least molested one and located in tax-free (for boat sales) Rhode Island. So that brings us to today and what’s left of Hurricane Hanna.

Well, there was one more tedious drive across the country, but we just let the Nüvi take us straight to Middletown, Rhode Island and so there’s not much to cover except for the pizza in upstate New York. It happened to be a Sunday when we were passing through the Hudson River Valley and my first and second choice Yelp spots were closed. So it was with utmost delight that the only place we could find that was open happened to dish up the goods. Tiff suffered through a no-cheese half and from that lone experiment we can now affirm that it’s the cheese. Same sauce, same crust, no cheese — horrible. Unbelievably bad. With cheese, foodgasm.

Our boat’s out of the water (”on the hard”) in Melville Marina, in Portsmouth, Rhode Island just north of Newport. All boats need work and ten year old boats, more so. That we expected, but what we didn’t expect was how long this was going to take to get done. We’ve been here since late July and I think we’ll be lucky if we have her back in the water in two weeks. It’s a combination of many factors and Hanna pointed out quite dramatically that we don’t really need to be heading down the east coast any earlier than next month anyway. But it sure would be nice to move aboard, not the least of reasons being that we’ll finally have our own kitchen again.

I’m not sure I can convey how awful the food is here. It’s got to be tied with Ohio in terms of worst food in the states. Unless you like clams or fried fish, I guess. It’s just unbelievably bland and unhealthy. Clams, lobster, and hamburger, and some of the worst “Italian” food you can imagine. We’re living out of the frozen natural foods section in between bouts with the local cuisine. You can tell a lot about a culture by its food, Bourdain said. And another thing he said about the states was, “if you view us the way you’d view any other indigenous culture, you’ll be better off”, or words to that effect. Wise words indeed.

We’re headed for the Florida Keys, ‘if we ever get outta here’. We will have some networking on board (more on that in another post), but I found a 12V WiFi router that combined with a 3G USB modem gives us anywhere from 400Kb to 1.4Mb anywhere there’s 3G service. The Keys are supposed to be 100% covered, according to the at&t 3G coverage map. We’ll see.

I’ll be posting some photos to my Flickr feed once we get our mast back on and actually start floating again. A good friend from DEC, who still lives in New Hampshire and has been helping us out the whole time, assures me there’s nice tropical sunsets at the end of the tunnel, but right now it seems like just a mess of strange parts and questionable outfitting decisions.

On a more positive note, we now have shiny portholes and a blank space where, “Mulligan’s Wake” used to reside. It’s supposed to be bad luck to rename a boat. So if we sink to the bottom of some far-away ocean, we’ll try to remember to blame ourselves for our misfortune.

We named the boat for our cat, one of the biggest downsides of this plan.

Yuma->Tucson

Sunday, April 13th, 2008

Hit up the old I-8 interstate out of Yuma. If only they could hold the weather at the 10AM temperature, all would be well. Breezed through Dateland, (still in Arizona) and ate one (and only one) date, then caved at the gift store counter and bought two Red Bulls. (You never know when lack of caffeine will overcome the need for determining which wickedly sweet date is the best of them all.) Then off to Gila Bend at a stifling 90+ degrees after a lunch Sophia’s for some ‘adequate, but nice, better than that-renamed-Outer-Limits-diner-down-the-street’ tacos. Then, finally, to the piste de resistance… the Organ Pipes National Monument. Oh, la, la. There are spring flowers on the cacti, a rabbit in the field, and doves abounding. The border patrol (which we crossed three checkpoints of.. were overly tan, and had a few German Shepherds in hyper-checkout car mode), and well, the dudes were rather mellow in the 95+ degree heat. Who could blame them? And, well, thank God. That is one crappy, dangerous job. For the most part, I’d be cranky doing it and would probably be shot by an equally irritable migrant who understood the absurdity of checking borders when it is all about labor (and the ever-popular “Drug War”) and nothing more or less. But I digress… Once we found the visitor center, a mere five miles from the Mexican border, we walked the ten minute nature trail and spent 20 minutes in the visitor center of the park. Ah, air conditioning. Other than their complaint about the recent 150 miles of illegal road trails in the park from people not using the border entryway that were destroying a portion of the park (complete with memorial to park rangers who have been killed), um.. well, the visitor center was ‘Uplifting’ in a true ‘nature is the best’ sort of way. The consensus from the both of us, the park is absolutely beautiful. Possibly our favorite of the parks, so far. (Oh, but I am still a sucker for Yellowstone.. damn, I can’t get away from Yogi the Bear, yet for the moment, this park is the Summer of Love.) The temperature for this jaunt is not April average, but May/June levels. Damn, if that scenery isn’t a gorgeous, but completely human hostile environment. We actually bought two gallons of purified water from Gila Bend before heading out (home of the Gila monster lizard)… (oh, the humility of buying non-tap water) and, thankfully, for the record, we finished most of the first jug before our traversal to Tucson, with nary a rest stop on the way. Desiccation, the reason people usually don’t live in the desert. Doh!

Road Trip: San Simeon-Santa Barbara-El Cajon-Yuma

Sunday, April 13th, 2008

Back to getting it together to update again… ah, procrastination can snowball…

Santa Cruz->San Simeon: Highway 1 along the coast delivered perfect blue skies and seas the entire way. With a stop at Phil’s Fish House in Moss Landing, we made a serious mis-order of the Tuna Special. Who knew you could turn Ahi Tuna into pineapple-sweet American Chinese food?! Sigh. At San Simeon, we found a nice-enough Best Western room with a fireplace and a view of the ocean. The surf sounded great, but the wind was blasting. In the morning, we took a tour of Hearst Castle. A big place, with a mish-mash of furniture and rooms. The most impressive part were the Spanish tiled patios with views in every direction. Nice.

Wildlife spotting: On the way up to Hearst Castle, a Golden Eagle hanging out and a Coyote eyeing our bus going up the hill, but alas, no zebras.

San Simeon->Santa Barbara: More Highway 1, but this time through some silly towns. We cruised through Buellton for some (famous) Andersen’s Split Pea Soup from a Dutch restaurant that was popular when the highway still ran by it. Then to continue our Dutch perusal of the area, we checked out Solvang, a town with few Dutch people left but all the glamour of silly Dutch decorations complete with pretend windmills along the main street. (Think Leavenworth, WA.)

Upon reaching the overpriced burg of Santa Barbara, we didn’t do so well on our pick of hotels. Another Best Western, but this one was 4 miles from the other end of State Street, and the decoration in our room was crazy un-matched 50’s/70’s decorations. Brown thick 70’s tiles, full-mirrored wall, and pink Laura Ashley wallpaper. Holy Cow, is that an ugly combination. The room just called for plastic plants. Not much for hanging out in rooms that could be inhabited by ghosts of past irate interior designers for the motel, we immediately headed downtown. With an eating ahead mentality (always with us), we picked the Palace Grill for dinner. It was almost Louisiana Cajun food, but well… not really. It was like too many LWHOL’s dined there (the main customers, really) and asked for all the spice to be removed from the food. Speaking of LWHOL’s, Santa Barbara was completely overrun with Baby Boomers of all shapes and sizes. Great weather though, and the birds sounded fantastic.

Santa Barbara->El Cajon: A brutal Friday afternoon drive, enough said on that. Too many people, too many cars, too much smog. Ah, Los Angeles.

El Cajon, CA->Yuma, AZ: We drove up through Lakeside into the hills and found all of San Diego in Ramona shopping for antiques, going ATVing and dragging horses around in the back of their trailers. It was a beautiful drive, but step out of the car for 1 second and you’d lose Toto and Dorothy. The winds were intense. Stopped in Ramona and checked out Charlotte’s Antique Store, who informed us that housing in California is crazy (duh) and that eBay is really cutting into the trinkets side of the Antique business. Stopped in at Dudley’s Bakery, did a quick survey of the breads, pastries, and LWHOLs, but left empty-handed. Stopped for lunch in Julian’s (a tourist stop that would like to remind you that Apples are grown in the region). We dined at Buffalo Bill’s for a bison burger and can thoroughly state that Sysco food delivery has really hurt the ‘home-cooking’ industry. Since when did freezer-ready onion rings constitute ‘home-cooking’? Such a very, very sad state of affairs. We stopped by the Desert Tower near Jacumba, CA (”the last of the great roadside attractions” its handout proclaims) and checked out the carved rock formations that they etched and painted. It was the equivalent of a McDonald’s playground size area that kids would love running through. Not much of an attraction, but we found ourselves laughing climbing around it, so I guess it works. Finally, off to the Yuma Cabana, a pink motel with palm trees… old, retro and with a small patio off the room with great temperatures at sunset. 80 degrees, wow.

Wildlife spotting: A wild turkey crossing the road outside of Julian.

Road Trip: South Lake Tahoe->Colorado->San Francisco

Monday, April 7th, 2008

A back entry of travels…

South Lake Tahoe -> Ely
We drove out on US 50 and were literally the only ones on the road for 45 minute stretches at a time. That highway doesn’t see much use, eh? We pulled over when we did find a few cars stopped by the side of the road just past Fallon (home of the Fallon Naval Air Station) and noticed they were watching the sky with binoculars. Looking at the map, we noticed the highway runs through the US Naval Reservation Target Area and sure enough a gigantic black plume of smoke was erupting from the hillside and six jets and a mid-sized fixed wing plane were zipping around us. We waited for a second bombing, but they were intent on flying in formations, instead. As the traffic dissipated down to nothing again, we were confronted by a pioneer wagon and horses coming at us with a sign on the side about some sort of pioneer route they were following. Our country is full of very strange people.

Wildlife Spotting: A few antelope, quite at home on the range.

Ely->Green River
We stayed at the Hotel Nevada and Gambling Hall in Ely, which came complete with a set of Harley Davidson Baby Boomer Bikers checking in with queries about the bordellos down the street. The receptionist assured them that they were within easy walking distance, and since they probably won’t be sleeping for days, may as well head right on over there. Folks in these parts were looking, um, a tad rough around the edges, but they were enjoying smoking and beer drinking at 9AM as we were checking out. Everyone looked happy in a Nevadan sort of way, which is to say, they would have rather lived back in the days of the dusty streets and cowboys of yore. We’d stayed out the night before over at Mr. G’s Maggie’s bar and listened to a local group play some music while inhaling way too much second hand smoke and wondering if the old gentleman that tipped over smack dab in the middle of the bar’s empty dance floor was going to be able to crawl back up or not. I tell you, Ely is a class act of a town. Heading back out of town, we forgot how much we dislike greasy egg breakfasts and ended up ordering a gigantic Chorizo Egg Scramble. What on earth were we thinking? We considered the roadkill set of folks next to us ordering pie for breakfast may have committed a lesser health crime.

Ely -> Green River
More of US 50 and more empty roads. We considered that Utah is still a strange place, after stopping off for pizza at a local restaurant that was decorated with mismatched tiny floral prints, and finally reaching Green River and being overwhelmed by the same style wallpapers and tons of pale pink stuffed furniture. It is a distinct decorating style and quite far away from the rough and tumble Nevadan cowboy aura. Gads, yuck. We found the UNC-Duke game on (without sound, bah) over at Ray’s Tavern (pretty much the only place to eat in town other than the fast food row, and packed with motorcross riders). We were fine with our overcooked pork chop and veggie burger until the guy next to us found the remote and started channel surfing. We bailed and ended up watching the game in the Utah-esc hotel of plastic plants and pink furniture. UNC won, so it was a fine end to a very long day of driving.

Green River->Vail
Another long drive past Arches National Park and onto Vail. Not much excitement, but we found that the snow storm that we thought we were chasing had evaporated into warm sunny days. We skied a few days on some (whew) free tickets. (Vail is now going for an ungodly $92/ticket these days. Go figure.) The snow was the standard spring crunchy/sunny stuff, but the ‘big snow storm’ turned one day into a foggy/overcast, no precipitation, sort of day. With the normal Vail restaurant scene reaction: “Whoa, that was an expensive sandwich.”, we shuddered, apologized to our wallets and dined at Zazza Za! in Avon for some semi-adequate Naple’s stye pizza, Garfinkel’s for some fish tacos and to watch the skiers come in from the foggy afternoon and, well, the Swiss Chalet for some fine overpriced Swiss raclette. Staying at the Evergeen Lodge was a good deal, though, a slightly dumpy, but not too dumpy, place on the ski bus line.

Wildlife Spotting: A Big Horn Sheep under a bridge near Glenwood Springs

Vail-> Boulder
We swung by Idaho Springs for some Beau-Jo’s pizza. They serve a ‘mountain pie’ pizza with a large rolled edge crust with honey on the table, so you end up with both pizza and dessert with a single order. They’ve removed most of the paper napkin drawings that used to cover the restaurant walls, but it is still a charming place. From there, we headed over to Celestial Seasonings for a tea packing tour. They have a mint storage room that they open up on the tour, and within seconds you’ll be lightheaded and after a few minutes your eyes will be tearing. Nice. Their peppermints and spearmints were the one item solely grown in the U.S., from the Pacific Northwest, in fact. While in Boulder we managed to fit in our 90,000 mile Toyota service and find some decent Thai and Vietnamese food. With that rejuvenation for the car and us, we were ready to go.

Wildlife Spotting: The prairie dogs whistling in the Celestial Seasoning’s prairie dog field.

Boulder->Denver
We headed over to Golden to take the Coor’s Brewery tour, finally. It is amazing how you can live in a city for a few years but never actually go to any of the nearby tourist’s sites, eh? Well, now, I have seen how they make that horrible beer, not even their Killian’s Red is good. The fine part of the tour was the smell of malt in the air, though. The place was permeated by that rich, sugary wort smell. It made us want to either brew beer or cook molasses spice cookies. Pilsner, though, what a waste. It was St. Paddy’s Day (oh, not really… just that Denver couldn’t face the fact that St. Paddy’s was on a Monday, so they moved their downtown festival to the weekend). We rolled into Denver in the early afternoon as the beginning of the mass exodus of the ‘Green People’ were exiting the ever so Irish street fair. It was an amusing sight. Folks were sporting such witty t-shirts, such as: “The leprechauns make me do it.” and “Wish on me lucky charms.” with many sporting green face paint. We decided to get more green watching in at the Wyncoop. And though, despite the abundance of green people, the food and beer were really disappointing. It’s been 10 years since I’ve been there, but the great food that I remembered didn’t get anywhere near our table. And, heck, they took out the pinball machines upstairs. Nothing like a round of playing a round of pinball on a very green Attack From Mars machine… oh, the disappoint.

Denver -> Pagosa Springs
On the way out town, I couldn’t convince Derrell (or myself for that matter) to actually get the nerve up to check out the Colorado Springs mega-evangelical church of Ted Haggard fame. You know, Ted Haggard, that political pastor that had a bit of a gay prostitute problem while really liking meth? Nice guy, we read that he was reformed and no longer gay. All thoughts of getting speedball crazy high and dreaming of men, gone, completely back to his family ways. Anyhow, it was Sunday, and Colorado Springs was close, but we’d feel too creepy if we entered that 10,000 person congregation. Instead, we drove U.S. 285 through the mountains and ran into some oddly difficult driving conditions for a short stretch. The sun was shining (no snow for us, of course) and the snow by the roadside was melting fast. This was causing water to wash over the highway and steam off the warm asphalt thus turning into a heavy dense fog that was only along the ribbon of highway and nowhere else. It was a peculiar sight and at times slowed us down to a speedy 15 miles per hour. We found the town of Pagosa Springs had grown since we last saw it and contemplated that Wolf Creek ski area was looking good. Unfortunately by the time we checked into Pagosa Springs, we lost skiing ambition with the super warm temperatures. We did find the tiny Pagosa Brewing Company, which since it was Monday, and actually was St. Patrick’s Day, was celebrating on the correct day with just about every local in town crammed in the one room bar for a post parade get together. Now, unlike the current brewers at the Wynkoop, Tony Simmons can brew fantastic beer and he has a kick ass chef doing some serious pub grub from the small red cart out in the garden. We enjoyed our evening chatting with him and his European story of how he got around to making beer and setting up his less than two year old business. Sweet!

Pagosa Springs->Santa Fe
Well, being close to Durango, we had to see what the housing boom had done to the town. It wasn’t too bad, but they did have an overabundance of new strip malls along the highways. One of these newly built areas did deliver, though. We were ready for lunch and spotted a parking lot full of huge pickup trucks and a line of people out the door at a fine establishment called ‘Serious Texas Bar-b-que’. OMG, was that pulled pork good. That place was well worth the wait and those Texans were smokin’. It made up for all the past week’s mediocre food and then some. We had a great drive to Santa Fe, thanks to the Garmin Nüvi and managed to get a number of back roads in through the New Mexico pine forest. It was a thoroughly gorgeous drive and came complete with every cowboy’ed hatted pickup truck driver giving us a wave as we drove past. Now, that’s some small town living. Upon arriving in Santa Fe, we found comfortable spot at Garett’s Desert Inn within walking distance of the plaza and immediately met a pair of Baby Boomers from Northern Minnesota walking around in shorts and complaining that is was really cold (probably near 62 degrees out at that time). We were completely confused by them having just come from the snowy mountains that morning, but later saw that the forecast for Santa Fe was going to hit the mid-70’s by the end of the week. Ah, spring.

Santa Fe->Albuquerque
We walked the Old Town’s trinket shops and observed the tourist buses with loads of white haired old people and yet again found the area not to our liking. The Seasons cafe overlooking the Old Town is about as close as one needs to get to the touristas. We got a good morning of history in at the Art and History museum. The General Beale and his Southwest Camel Corps must have quite a sight in 1857. Camels, it seems, were perfect for desert and mountain travel, but they have a few bad traits. One is that with bad tempers, they can spit the entire contents of their stomach at you (with accuracy), and, well, if you could get past that, the strong stench would cause horses downwind to bolt. I just read in a Montana magazine that Nevada had enough camels that the state passed a law forbidding you to let your camels run at large on public roads. A strange world to contemplate before the steam trains and autos took over the continent.

Albuquerque->Gallup
Following a large piece of Route 66 and setting the Nüvi to map out a route off-highway, we had a Nüvi failure. Our road turned to dirt, then to a bumpy trail and finally stranded us at a culvert crossing full of water trying to take us under the Burlington Northern Santa Fe railroad line. In 4-wheel drive we backtracked our way out of that routing. We settled back onto paved roads and visited Bandara’s volcano crater and Ice Cave. This was a privately owned Ice Cave and not much of a stop, but it was great to get out of the car and do some walking. After that, down the road past many a speed trap and through one DUI checkpoint (Easter was in full swing in New Mexico), then over to El Morro National Monument to check out the graffiti of over 2,000 signatures left near the watering hole. And of course, our new found Camel hero, General Beale had his signature carved there, as well as some dudes taking over the continent for Mexico City back in the 1600’s.
Wildlife Spotting: Coyotes out and about for the day. We ended our day in Gallup at the Historic El Rancho Hotel where the walls were covered with signed pictures from movies stars from the era when Route 66 carried them through this seriously overbuilt lodge.

Gallup->Flagstaff
We drove through the Petrified Forest National park and inspected the extremely heavy chunks of wood/fossils that were over 225 million years old. The park had a late start, since just outside the southern gates, there looks to be more petrified wood chunks for sale outside the stores than all of the pieces combined within the huge park. Ah, capitalism. Another UNC basketball game was calling us when we reached Flagstaff and we lounged about watching it, while people were working on getting their first of the season sunburns outside on the patio. We stayed at the old Weatherford Inn which is a wonderful hotel with the one weak spot of being near the center train station and the 60 trains that go through town blowing their whistles all night long. Traveling with earplugs is a good thing. Haven’t needed them since India. Go Heels!

Flagstaff->Beatty’s
We scored some great Biff’s Bagels and garlic bagel chips on the way out of town. The girl at the counter said she had just started making them. Good stuff and we shortly realized we should have bought the other bag. Traveling through fields upon fields of desert flowers we reached Hoover Dam and an hour long trail of cars crossing it at 11AM on a Tuesday morning. We had no idea how close to Las Vegas the dam was, but we certainly are well aware of it now. That was a crazy amount of people. A bridge is being built beyond the dam to alleviate the traffic and probably to avoid having that much weight on the bridge everyday since the Lake Mead water level is half of what was when the dam was built. We cruised the Las Vegas strip and decided not to stay in town, but headed out to Beatty’s. We met some young Brits at the Sourdough Pizza and Pub and listened to their opinions of what they had seen between San Francisco and Beatty. It was something along the lines of: wow, what a big country.. it is way poorer than we expected.. and it is very surprising to see town after town look the same with all the same stores.. and your news is like The Sun.. And on the other side of us, we later met Baby Boomers (how can there be so many?!) from Eastern Oregon and they proceeded to advise us to retire early and buy an RV. We liked the sound of the first part, but given that this early in the season, the RV parks were showing No Vacancy signs already, we were really suspicious about the latter advice.

Beatty’s->China Lake/Riverville
Yet another National Park, this time Death Valley. Having traversed snow just a week ago, hanging out in the desert at 94 degrees was a bit disorienting, but we warmed up to it. We were just at the edge of surviving the short walks in the park in the heat. Add another five degrees and forget it. It was a great time to see the area, the wildflowers were blooming in every direction. The Toyota survived all the climbing. Standing at 232 feet below sea level in the valley and looking at the highest point in the US, Mt. Whitley (14,505′) gives an astounding amount of depth perspective to the valley. The evening spent in China Lake left us with one of the few meals we’ve walked out on after only one bite. We ordered some fajitas from a dumpy Mexican restaurant and they offered up a plate of chicken fat and gristle. Even by southeast asian standards, that’s beyond bad. What a dump of a town. We ended up at the Best Western in town and were assigned a room with a kitchen, so we recovered our evening and cooked up some fine aglio e olio.

Wildlife spotting: A roadrunner hanging out near the campground picnic tables.

Riverville->Three Rivers
We were headed towards Sequoia and Kings Canyon National Park, and given the 90 degrees of the past couple of days, let the Nüvi pick our routing. Well, lo and behold, there’s still a few yards of snow left up in those there mountains and the roads usually stay closed until mid to late May. We backtracked and drove around the West side of the park through the orange groves and past the strawberry stands. We stopped at an orange stand and tried to buy just two naval oranges, we were laughed at and given two oranges for free. I guess their primary business is selling large boxes to the local grocery stores, eh? After that, while looking for a Swedish Bakery which ended up in a Nüvi routing failure, we instead stopped at bought a basket of strawberries from a Vietnamese family tending a small plot of them at the edge of a small town. Finally, small strawberries with flavor. So, we forgave the Nüvi and used it to select a random lunch spot. Porter Street BBQ in Porterville sounded nice, so off we went. We discovered the BBQ joint was just two southerners in the middle of a parking lot with a few permanent tables under a tree. Now, that has all the signs of being good BBQ! We ended up with a tri-tip sandwich with some fantastic sauce on a perfect bread roll. Is that really what the Arby’s chain was trying for? Arby’s should hang their corporate heads in complete shame. Our evening stop, landed us in Three Rivers, in a beautiful little town near the river (doh!) and at a Best Western that was since the last printing of the 2008 BW guide, now a ‘Best West’ and no longer part of the chain. We were soon to discover the reason for the parting of ways the next morning. As we turned on the water for a shower, there wasn’t a drop of warm, or even luke warm water coming out of the shower. We asked at the front desk and the Indian family informed us that maybe this evening the repair man will be out and have the gas heater fixed. Sigh, no shower.

Three Rivers->Los Banos
Showerless, we entered Sequoia National Park and the ranger asked us how our day was going. Well, showerless, we informed him. He queried us about where we were coming from and then laughed and said that he and his wife when they first took this ranger job were staying at that hotel for a few weeks. Nothing was ever working, since the family that ran it insisted on fixing everything themselves. He since then has a beautiful spot in the park housing.. with working warm water. The park was beautiful, the trees were big, the snow was still high (so most trails would take more effort than we were willing to give them since they required snow shoes) and the tourism was at a dull roar. After way too windy of a road leaving the park and a consensus by all within the vehicle that we’d been in the vehicle far too long without getting any walking, we finally, finally, finally, drove into Los Banos for the evening next to Gilroy. Another UNC game to watch, this time against WSU. Go Heels!

Los Banos->Santa Cruz
And this is where we stop the road trip for awhile, since you can never road trip through a town where you have lived for long periods of time. We did manage to get our Rio swapped out in Santa Cruz, though, so finally we will be able to listen to the radio again. Nothing like country music or Mexican music on the road.

Seattle

Wednesday, August 8th, 2007

On the road again, we stayed at the EconoLodge South at SeaTac airport. Holy cow, what a friggin’ dump. This hotel was seriously in need of a coat of paint. The room had single pane windows, so the planes flying over sounded like they were landing in the room, but thankfully the airport shuts down flights in the evening so sleep was achievable. Why do we do this? Well, it was cheap and had the best reviews of the lower priced airport hotels on-line, and more importantly, our flight departed at 6 AM, so we needed to get over to the airport by 4AM. Hey, who needs sleep?!

Well, our arrival to this dumpy hotel was in the early afternoon, so we had a few hours to kill. We headed over to the Southcenter mall, where we found a few extra video camera parts (UV filter and lens cap), and a last minute pair of socks. Then we found a Thai restaurant along a side road that served up some adequate basil chicken and larb served up by an extremely cheerful Vietnamese waitress that tried to teach us a few words of Vietnamese. xin chào (seen chaw), a.k.a. hello, was about the beginning and end of our abilities and we are certain that we mangled the tonal properties, so I probably was mumbling ‘green sheep’ and Derrell was mumbling ‘nice sky’ or something equally odd. It was the best part of the afternoon, so we really did try our best at the language lessons.

After a much too brief nap at our hotel, we headed to the airport. We were informed on check-in that our first flight was running a half hour late and we would miss our connection to Chicago. So, with apologies from the check-in clerk, we were rerouted on a direct flight to Chicago, which cheered us up a great deal. This saved 4 hours of flying from Seattle to Dallas, with a layover, then the flight back to Chicago. I’m not sure if ‘frequent flyer award’ miles are worth the painful routings, but sometimes the weather helps correct the idiocy. And, then, you know it will be an fine travel day.

Road Trip - West Coast

Wednesday, October 13th, 2004

After a month in San Francisco, we decided to get out of the city and get some fresh air.

Elko, Nevada - Bush stickers on EVERY vehicle.
Vernal, Utah - Home of the pink cement dinosaurs near Dinosaur National Park, and land of having to stop your car for a (this actually still happens) cattle round-up.
Steamboat Springs, Colorado - More cowboys, lots of sun and tons of yellow autumn leaves.
Santa Fe, New Mexico - John Kerry is in town for a speech about alternative fuels causing an 11PM road block on every street in the Old Town.
Tucson, Arizona - Friggin’ hot out, but it sure has great cacti.

Snow, leaves, sun… this is a big country.

We are considering where we want to live next. Seems that is a harder decision than we anticipated after traveling for awhile. Now just where is that 5 acre Hawaiian property in the middle of San Franciso with a ski area just a few minutes away?

Miami Airport

Friday, July 2nd, 2004

What the hell were we thinking being at the Miami airport on Fourth of July weekend?! You should see the lines at the security gates and check-in counters here.

I think we are down to our last few weeks of travel. Sigh, we are wearing down at a ferocious rate. Something about someone constantly saying, “I’m sorry, sir, but…” and you can fill in the blank about something that isn’t going in your favor in the travel industry.

For instance, in the last three days…

Your locks being CUT off your UNLOCKED bag by the TSA and all your packing rearranged and wrinkled by the idiots, all WITHOUT LEAVING a paper tag in the most destroyed bag. “I’m sorry, sir, but… I think there’s an 800 number you can call to make a complaint.”

Your on-line reservation that said Dollar rent-a-car was AT THE TERMINAL. “I’m sorry, sir, but… I guess our website is WRONG. The 20-minute shuttle is out front.”

Your not being able to get a free cup of water with your meal at Burger King. “I’m sorry, sir, but… we have to charge you ONE DOLLAR for a PAPER cup of TAP water since we now sell BOTTLED water in PLASTIC bottles.”

Your not getting a privacy tag for your hotel door. “I’m sorry, sir, but… I THOUGHT you were out of here. (1 hour later…) I’m sorry, sir, but… I really THOUGHT you were out of here THIS time.”

Your not being able to use your charge card at the Shell gas pump near the airport. “I’m sorry, sir, but… we’ve had issues with BAD cards being used. You MUST pay in cash before using our station. Yes, I know, we DO have the PAY-AT-THE-PUMP sign out front.”

Your getting WHITE GOO all over your luggage as you pull it from the rental car because the glue they use for the trunk seal MELTS in the Florida heat. “I’m sorry, sir, but… that’s been a problem with the Dodge Neons.”

Your shuttle not dropping you off at the WRONG terminal stop. “I’m sorry, sir, but… I MISSED your stop and it was about a HALF-MILE back.”

Hmm, some weeks just seem to add up as more tedious travel than others. Here’s to hoping that we don’t hear the words “I’m sorry, sir…” for at least another 24 hours.

Key West, Florida

Wednesday, June 30th, 2004

We left Alaska under a haze of forest fire smoke that extended from Fairbanks all the way down to Anchorage, making the last few hours in Alaska rather miserable. Everyone was staying inside.

Walking off the plane in Miami into the same Fairbanks temperature was a shock. The humidity in Alaska was hovering around 30%, but here it was like walking into a fishbowl of steam. That isn’t a bad thing when you are looking at Hibiscus flowers and palm trees.

Key West is touristy, but damn cute. They have good food here. Zagat has a special section for restaurants on the Keys, and we scored a cuban meal that was off the scale good. Gay culture is in. Two out of five people who live here are gay and the rainbow flags everywhere declare the state of mind of the business owners. The cruise ships stop here, adding a weird middle class, middle America overlay to the streets. The housing prices are up there with Santa Cruz and San Francisco. The place is damn cute.

We are sitting at a coffee shop with a good iced americano slurping up free wi-fi packets while watching a well-fed cat check us out on the porch as we lounge on the wicker chairs. Blue skies, tourist trains, foriegn accents on camera toting folks, very hot weather (too hot for the beach), gorgeous views, outdoor dining. For a tourist town, this place is the cats pajamas even off-season.

Alaska

Saturday, June 26th, 2004

Overpriced.

We rented an overpriced SUV, stayed at a few overpriced campgrounds, were bit by a few overfed mosquitoes (the size of birds), bought a few overpriced lunches and dinners, stocked up on overpriced groceries, bought overpriced gas and broiled in the overhot sun. Hmm.

Our wildlife count wasn’t too bad:
Moose, grazing - 2 (one coming by for grazing a few yards from our first campsite.. big mama… we backed off)
Bald Eagles, soaring - 4
Beavers, swimming - 2
Red Squirrels, tree climbing - 4 (at Squirrel Creek Campground making it an appropriately named stop)
Gray Squirrel, theiving - 1

Our close up exposure to forest fire was higher than expected:
Steese Hwy was intermittently closed

Our close up inspection of locals was scarier than expected:
The ‘brew pub’ we stopped by for dinner didn’t get us in the door, as we watched a big guy with unwashed long hair in stripped overalls with no shirt on with bad tattoos covering his bulging arms, um, stagger (that invokes more balance than he really warranted) out the dingy front door. Well, so much for Lonely Planet restaurant recommendations.

Our exposure to gravel on the finished highways was brutal:
Ding on Windshield, small - 1 (first day of driving)
Ding on Windshield, large crack - 1 (third day of driving, excluded by Avis rental agreement… of course)

Did I mention Alaska is overpriced?

Fairbanks, Alaska

Sunday, June 20th, 2004

Dang is it hot here! Near record highs of 88 degrees today. With 23 hours of sunlight (near solstice), this glowing orb is just not letting up.

I’m sitting at the Captain Bartlett Inn in a sweltering lounge at the lonely Internet console with a fan blowing the steamy air around me. They say this heat is a good thing, since if it was cooler the mosquitoes would be out in force. Alright, heat!

We’re doing some of the overpriced touristy things that tourists do in these parts…

We took the Alaskan Rail up from Anchorage to Fairbanks passing by Mt. McKinley and getting some beautiful views of the Rockies. It was a good ride, especially hanging out in the dining and bistro cars. Some folks saw two or three mooses (plural of moose?), but our only wildlife spotting turned up a few bald eagles. We did get scenery overload about half way through the trip, though, along with the others in our train car. Twelve hours of a train ride gets a bit tedious towards the end.

We checked out the Malamute Saloon show in Ester and decided that it was beyond or kitsch tolerance, but the old folks seemed to be enjoying it.

And we hung out with the tour groups on a Riverboat Discovery steamboat this morning, complete with a stop to watch some dog sledding training by the four time winner of the Iditerod, Susan Butcher, and a stop to watch a bush plane do a short runway take off and landing on grass.

And finally, we checked out the University of Alaska Museum. A natural history musuem with all sorts of dead stuffed creatures. It had a good set of mamoth tusks, a fine leg of bones from a dinosaur and an extinct mummified steppe bison. The museum was rather good, and was a good respite from the heat outside.

We maybe offline for a few days, since I don’t think they’ve put Internet and power connections in the woods out here yet. We’re off for some camping after the downtown Fairbanks Midnight Sun solstice festival (woo-hoo! Let’s get those deep-fried twinkies cookin’, folks!). We’ve got our fingers crossed that our tent will be cool enough to sleep in and the sun not setting won’t diminish our ability to sleep. We’ve got a few doubts about that right now. What were we thinking… camping in the middle of summer in Alaska?

Sure is dang pretty out here, though.