Mountains, and Lakes and...the Sound of Music?

If pretirement was my lofty idea, Mér has taken it to new heights by having us sprint up every peak south of the equator.

I rejoined Mscott and our third musketeer Louise in Bariloche, a ski-resort town at the northern edge of Patagonia that looks more like the Epcot imitation of Switzerland come to life than anything in South America. Complete with glimmering lakes, snow-capped peaks, and budding wildflowers so bright that if they weren´t natural they´d be gaudy (as Louise says), the scenic backdrop overwhelms the lame attempt at being European and makes this place astounding.

My first foray back into hiking since the great American road-trip involved a 25km trek circling a mountain ridge, climbing 400 meters through snow to a frozen lake and scrambling for 2 hours on a cliff-side ridge atop the Andes with views to Chile. We could see lakes, volcanoes, mountains, rivers, and the babushkas from the chocolate shop in Bariloche. Not a bad leg-stretch after 48-hours of travel. And of course, in Argentina fashion, we treated ourselves to a nice Bife de Chorizo and fries with red wine for dinner.

We spent the next couple days renting a car, winding dirt roads through the seven lake district. More lakes, more mountains, more flowers, more weird swiss chalet towns...and found ourselves in need of re-connecting with ¨the real Argentina¨ by the end of the week. So, we went to a jazz festival in a hippie mountain town specializing in micro-breweries...ok, so we´re expanding our view of Argentina.

El Bolson (said hippie town) was a great place to stop. After being greeted heartily by the local drunk we knew we´d like it there. The beers are good, the trout is spectacular, and the lamb rivals the beef. All this left us wondering: why with the natural resources, italian, spanish and welsh influence, and seeming ability to do everything else (but govern and manage money...) SO well, can we not find a decent piece of cheese in this country? It´s a travesty...and perhaps a market opportunity...Cowgirl Creamery, do you hear me?

But back to those mountains. Having unleashed his inner mountain goat, MScott led us (and half the Israeli army: they´re everywhere!) on two more great hikes. Our first took us across two sketchy bridges (imagine me feeling like Shelly Long from Troop Beverly Hills trappend on an Indiana Jones set) to an amazing blue river canyon where Caribbean colored clear waters lured MScott to jump in to a 33 degree river...twice. Don´t pity him. Fool me once... The next day, we ventured out again to climb a peak with view of the Patagonian desert, Chile, lakes, and a snow-capped range. But first we had to spend 3 hours walking up a mountain face at a 45 degree angle, lamenting that Argentinians seem not to believe in switchbacks. The views were well worth the 8-hour hike...until MScott suggested we jog back. I was only a little bit horrified before I strapped on my i-pod, ran down the mountain road, and wondered what I was being punished for.

From our start in El Bolson being greeted heartily by the town drunk to the finish having to remove Louise from a man who could only be the town drunk´s drunker father insisting she was missing out on an important cultural exchange with a Latin American lover, we thoroughly enjoyed our time. We´re now nearing the end of a 30-hour journey to the end of the world during which we´ve enjoyed: I now Pronounce you Chuck and Larry, Die Hard 4, and White Chicks. I just hope we eventually get to see something I haven´t already memorized it´s so good!!

And finally some pictures

Here are some photos that include our last hurrah in Mendoza, along with the volcano and national park hikes. Enjoy!

I am thankful for...

...the people that love me.

I just retunred from two full days hiking in the Chilean forest alone. Pretty much my only contact was with an Israeli and a local Chilean, but only for a short time each. For the remainder, I was all alone with only my thoughts. I even slept in an empty house last night. It was quite the opposite of a typical Thanksgiving day. I wasn´t hungover either.

This morning I hiked to the top of Cerro San Cristobal in Parque Nacional Huerquehue just outside of Pucon, Chile. The sights are extrodinary, but what felt best about the two days was thinking about those who are special to me. I was able to find comfort by myself with my family and friends in my thoughts. Oddly enough, the time away has made me feel more close to so many. It´s easy to take these relationships for granted when they are convenient and easy. Now that they are neither convenient nor easy, these relationships feel especially important. All alone on a day we usually surround ourselves with loved ones wasn´t as bad as I thought it would be. And that is why I´m thankful. (end gushy part)

And for an update: Rach returned to Chicago last Tuesday for a wedding. Since, I traveled south to San Martin de los Andes and attempted to climb Volcan Lanin. The first day was great, but the weather prevented a summit attempt on day two. With two Dutch folks I met in San Martin, we traveled to Pucon, Chile. There we made it to the top of Volcan Villarica and slid down on our butts. That was awesome. Also, if you get the chance to try hydrospeed, I highly recommend it. Then, the two days in the national park. I head to Bariloche (Ar) tomorrow to meet Rach and our friend Louise for a month in Patagonia. When I get to a better computer, I can upload the amazing pictures of volcanoes, forests, mountains, sunsets, and Thomas. Stay tuned.

Yes We Did!

Tonight we had an asado (Argentine bbq and party) at our new home with three roommates... one British, one from New Zealand, and a long time American ex-pat. But tonight, over meat, drinks, and some hope, we were all (along with Irish, Latvian, Norweigian, Argentinian, etc.) citizens of the world. Tonight we watched history. We wished to be a bigger presence in it but had to settle for an absentee ballot in a long-decided district (did DC get over 95%?).

Nonethleless, the experience of watching my city (Chicago of course) shine on BBC worldwide amidst a global audience with the knowledge that I had family and friends present for that historic moment was enough to bring me and our compatriots to tears. It seems it´s not just Americans that want change, not just Americans that are inspired by the words ¨president elect Barack Obama¨, but the world. And tonight, above celebrating in our nation´s Capitol or our new President´s first city, we got to celebrate, cry, enjoy, eat, watch, and wait, with the world. And the world cried with us, celebrated every swing state with us, and will hope with us that the words ¨President Obama¨really will hold within them the hope, the change, the healing of a nation, the betterment of a globe, the new world in living color that we´ve been calling merely ¨Change¨ for so long.

We have thoughts of home. We have renewed thoughts that it´s a place we´ll feel comfortable calling home once again. We miss you. We love you. We´re proud of you.

Yes-we-DID!

Yes-we-WILL!

It´s time to answer the world´s call, the nation´s needs, and the individual´s rights. It´s time to hold President Obama to the standard which he himself has demanded. It´s time to make good on those historic words from our nation´s first president from Illinois, the man who enabled this newest president´s path with a simple statement: ¨a nation of the people, by the people, and for the people.¨ Above all, it´s time we showed the world our non-military strength, our humility, our determination, ¨that unlikely story that is America.¨

Yes-we-can
Yes-we-did
Yes-we-WILL

The job starts now...

What IS Pretirement?

Such a clever word . . . When Rachel first described our forthcoming trip this way it appealed to me immediately even though I wasn’t really sure what it would come to mean. I don’t even think Rachel knew. To break the word down is quite easy: The prefix, “pre” obviously means “before” and the root “tire” … ummm well that’s a bit more difficult. For us, it would obviously mean that we would not be working, but how would our lives really change? Today I had a bit of an epiphany and I will share with you what “pretirement” means to me.

Our first month of pretirement was mostly spent in the west camping, hiking, and exploring parts new to us. Our first two weeks of Spanish classes in Mendoza included a biking trip to wine vineyards and a trek up a 3600 m 'hill' but a list of these activities isn't really what pretirement is about.

How ironic that I learned what it is to pretire today. The morning’s situation was stressful: we had to move out of our shared apartment at 10am without a place for our things until we moved into our new apartment at 3pm. Our plan was to hang out in the Plaza de Indepencia and just pass the time. Little did we know there would be a music festival complete with children singing, playing local instruments, and dancing in costume on stilts to entertain us for quite some time. Eventually the gorgeous garden/plaza of the restaurant we passed en route to the plaza finally called our names so we decided to treat ourselves given the difficulty of our situation.

I think I will let the pictures of the restaurant do most of the talking, but let me say that in a perfect outdoor setting, complete with palm trees and fountain, we had the best meal of our trip. It was this meal and our predicament that shed the light on “pretirement” for me. We dined for about two hours, conversing only in Spanish with our server, over three delightful tapas all paired with a bottle of delicious red, where were only to outdone by our perfect steak. Rachel had the wherewithal to sit back from her wine and declare, “This is pretirement.”

That declaration was a reminder that it’s important to realize my position at the moment. I was reminded that I am pretired: that I can take life slowly, satisfy my curiosities, learn new cultures, and just enjoy every minute of this new life. And I’m lucky enough to pretire with someone I love.

Our First Week of School

After travelling like vagabonds since August, we've finally settled for a while in Mendoza. The city, in the center of Argentina, and more importantly, in the center of wine country, is small but beautiful and very relaxed. Some of my favorite Spanish and Italian customs are observed here (i.e. siesta, and great red wine) and the large tree-lined avenues and dry warm weather make it a perfect walking city.

We are living in the loft bedroom of an incredible apartment (complete with jacuzzi and awesome fairy godfather) near school. On our first day, we were separated (practically surgically given how long we've been spending 24/7 together) into different levels for learning and practicing Spanish. Yes, i'm better than M'er! In M'er's class there's a very nice British girl and a Lithuanian who arrived 30 min. late for the second day of class in the same dress as the day before, but we're here to learn, not judge. In my class there's a New Zealander here after volunteering at a hospital in Tanzania, a British Immigration lawyer (who got a bit too stressed defending refugees), and a home-schooled 19-year old non-drinker from Texas. Kyle is a bit on the naive and shy side but very sweet, so i've already learned to be discreet in Spanish (especially since we are continually asked about the political situation in the US).

But probably the most comical things happen outside school and mostly at night or during siesta. There was Sunday when M'er and I were starving at 3pm and couldn't find anything but Mr. Dog's, a fast food joint focused on hot dogs (they LOVE hot dogs) and promptly nearly vomited. There was an evening in and around Plaza Independencia where we saw (but didn't understand) some sort of comic magic show where the performer "magically" changed his clothes with the help of two audience members on stage (??) and a seeming Argentinian Indigo Girls cover band (but even less attractive). And of course there was last night, when M'er and I tried for the first time to tango. Needless to say we got LOTS of attention from the instructors (and I from a toothless, bald and chubby local) and still only managed to master the tango version of box step. Errrrr, como se dice "better luck next time"? The good news is we only misunderstood the Spanish instructions and walked in the wrong direction once!


This weekend we're off on a biking tour of the wineries (perhaps ill-advised) and a hiking expedition near Aconcagua. Pictures to come when we return!

How Mel Gibson Helped to Make a Great Trip

Now in Argentina, I think I can admit that I have been anticipating this part of the trip more than our week in Chile. Valparaiso is incredibly beautiful but as Rachel mentioned, we were perhaps more entertained by the seemingly infinite number of teenagers making out in every public place we went. What is especially memorable for me was the amazing trip over the Andes Mountains into Argentina, thanks in part to Mel Gibson.

Long distance bus trips are common in South America – common for tourists and even for the folks that live here full time. Upon boarding the bus in Valpo for Mendoza (a scheduled 8 hours) we met a couple going home to Salta, another 17 hours to the north. Given the length of these rides, the buses are well equipped with super-comfy seats and they provide both meals and entertainment. These days Mel Gibson only indirectly entertains a few of us through the tabloids, but I think we can remember a time when he was much more appealing. This bus ride brought me back to that time.

On the Chilean side we were treated to snow capped mountains that create steep waterfalls. The 2 hours we spent at the boarder provided the gateway to views of Mt. Aconcagua. At over 21,000 feet it is the tallest outside of the Himalayas. The perfect backdrop to these breathtaking views is Mel Gibson’s inspiring speeches and cries for freedom in the featured film, “Braveheart.” It was truly an emotional experience descending the Andes through canyons, next to lakes and gushing rivers while also watching a rabble of Scots fight to live their lives as free men against Lonshanks’ English. You may want to download some bagpipe music before viewing the few pictures we were able to take through the bus window. (There’s pics of Valpo and Santiago too.)

Santiago, Chile...also known as...1985

So, if we found the future in Wisconsin, we've landed leg-warmer deep in the recent past here in Chile. Just a three hour ride to Miami, a five hour layover, an AWFUL Giants game, an eight hour flight, a half-hour bus ride, and a twenty-minute walk with all our belongings, and we were here: The Eighties! It seems the me-decade didn't end in recession, it just moved south for the winter. Upfront Chile's all business, in the back...it's party time!

Ok, you get it, they dress like a John Hughes movie gone skater...and it's awesome. Yes, M'er is considering a mullet and I feel odd wearing anything but hot pink skinny jeans, but we're enjoying ourselves nonetheless (and M'er thinks we're the best-looking people here...that's right, WE).

So far, we've roamed the nation's capital and found some great neighborhoods with gorgeous brightly colored homes, climbed a couple hills for views of the snow-capped Andes through the overwhelming smog, oh and witnessed about 1,000 public makeouts. The only thing Chileans seem to love more than Mullets and Empanadas is public displays of affection. It almost seems the city was planned for it. The numerous shady plazas with ample park benches, the grassy medians between avenues, the metro...seriously, on your next commute take a look around and tell me how many darkish corners you see that could/should be filled with teenagers groping each other. My guess is at least 20.

Tonight we headed to Valparaiso and rather than watch the presidential debate, witnessed Chile and Argentina in a battle royale, futbol style. Chile won for the first time in 20 years, and that's why this post is a bit boozy. In addition to numerous replays of the only goal scored and chants of "Vamos Chile!" "Chi-Le, Chi-Le, Viva Chile!", we're enjoying this UNESCO world heritage site, its public graffiti-art, its pot-smoking teenagers, its red-rover playing children, the sunset, the moon rise, and the hostel owned by the guy who wrote our guide book. More on this all later...sans booze.

Thanks for hanging in there while we shifted from Road Trip to Back to the Future. We'll try to be more consistent from here on out. And thanks for indulging my pontificating...we're back to the light stuff now!

Pics to follow as soon as we can covertly capture some of these mullets on film.

A Summary of Leg #1: USA

DC - What a sad good bye! It seems like everyone's dropping out of DC (Zawel, Goldstein, Seb, Diana...) Hang tough Brett, Leah.

NY - How I drove a Uhaul through the underpasses on the Belt Pkwy without crashing the roof, I'll never know. And a great wedding.

IN - Giant sand dunes and a beautiful beach? Who knew?

IL - Old friends, a happy birthday, an additional passenger. He is fun.

WI - Trolltown, Futuretron.

MN - Way to go with the wind power. And my first sighting of the Mississippi River. I love rivers.

SD - Our first "Holy crap," moment occurs in Badlands NP when we first played pioneer. Resurgence of American history.

WY - Yellowstone is a peek into our geologic past. Lander, the liberal oasis in a red state. Some good will earned us delicious cookies that kept us from running out of gas.

UT - Good bye to Zaks. Hello to 3.2% beer. Go to Souther Utah. It's amazing, but BYOB.

AZ - It was grand to hang out with Melissa and go into the Canyon. When will I do it again? To the Colorado River: you're my favorite! Sorry Mississippi.

CA - Rancho Moroma was the perfect place for stay for the perfect Mendoza wedding. A tour of Warner Bros studios, thanks Melis! Joshua Tree is just like it was in Entourage. We didn't bring mushrooms, so maybe it was a little different.

NM - Real cave dwellings in Canyon de Chille. Acoma is the oldest continuously inhabited place in the US. We saw their 13-family pueblo mesa and left with a hand-made vase. Santa Fe is full of art and history while we enjoyed the Balloon Fiesta in
Albuquerque (see pics below).

OK - High tailing it home, we finally had time for a Frito Pie. Yum!

And that does it for the USA. We leave town Monday, Oct 13 for leg #2. Please enjoy the pics below of Joshua Tree, Canyon de Chille, Santa Fe, and Alburquerque.

How the West was Won, and Lost, and Won Again

Well, we've returned from our little Jetta-powered version of the Oregon Trail and are gearing up to head to South America. Stay tuned for the next chapter (and a little more about our last days and encounters), but in the meantime, here are some musings from our time in the area:

It was less than a mere hundred years after our nation had been solidly founded and accepted when the prospect of the unknown, and a dream of bigger adventure and bigger fortune lured young America to the West. The promise of riches, nearly free land, religious freedom, minerals, and just plain open space began the first of the many boom-bust cycles that would shape the Southwest.

There was the gold rush, the silver rush, the Mormon invasion, the Uranium boom, the most recent tourism boom, and what appears to be yet another burgeoning Energy boom. Each of these boom periods (with the exception of the Mormons, they’re here to stay) was followed by an equally dramatic bust. It was during these bust times that the scars on the landscape were made apparent and the move toward what would be the next boom was often born. There are crumbling ghost towns, abandoned mines, and failed attempts at farming an arid desert. There are run-down Indian reservations where gambling and junkyards rule the roost. There are abandoned roads through the Canyonlands with shadows and tire-tracks of former Uranium prospectors. Most notably, there are massive dams with drying lakes revealing a beautiful canyon flooded for the sake of irrigation, energy production, and further development. Each of these scars, in time, faded into the background of the landscape as the next boom took shape. The lingering spirit of the Wild West, the loss of the American Indian, the end of the final frontier and with it the end of the traditional American dream, are all reminders of minute eras to an area that has adapted, evolved, and changed as necessary throughout time.

The most recent tourism boom seems a response to all the failed attempts at taming this region: an acceptance that our most lucrative use of the land will come from respecting it, observing it, and appreciating it. A war for ownership of the current and enduring tourism boom is being waged between the RV Rustler’s and the European Union in the backdrop of National Parks from Zion to Yellowstone. The EU has utilized a venerable artillery including favorable exchange rates, high gas prices, and nationally generous vacation time but the RV Rustlers stand strong declaring: “We are Americans, we have a right to vacation, to consume, and we will run you Smart Car toting foreigners right over”. Those Germans are tough, but I wouldn’t mess with Ruth Ann and Gerald; they’ve been around and those visors and tracksuits are just plain intimidating.

But on the horizon seems to be a struggle even more dichotomous than young Europeans vs. grizzly retirees. It’s a fundamental issue being played out all over the US but nowhere more starkly than here in the unforgiving environment of the Southwest: the energy boom, and whether it steers ahead toward renewable resources and technological advancement, or continues along that old American consumer adage with “Drill baby Drill”. We’ve noticed everything from windmill farms, solar panels, and EPA-certified off-grid towns (way to go Moab) to new rigs, a massive opening of BLM lands to oil exploration, trucks, and RV’s from Wyoming to Arizona. The resources exist for both sides, as does the will. With the nation split along ideological lines, I believe it will be the environment that decides. Will mineral resources prevail once more or will this unforgiving landscape refuse to yield and demand compliance and respect with the threat of yet another bust?

The region’s surviving native nations, plants, environment, and even pioneers of this region have all learned to adapt, evolve and move forward past the scars and harshness that have been thrust upon them, and radiate with an enduring natural beauty. As the nation faces the ramifications of a similar cycle, can we look at this example of graceful endurance and muster the unified strength to adapt and evolve beyond this bust?

The Grand Hype

“I walked out of the Grand Canyon in 1983 and had an epiphany. It changed my life. I quit my job and moved to the southwest,” is how Richard, our rafting guide describes his experience. “It was a life-changing, spiritual experience.” The route we chose to enter the canyon, the South Kaibab trail took us down over one mile past rocks that are over one billion years old to the Colorado River. With these facts in mind, I prepared for an experience similar to his.

Most visitors, however, are not like Richard. Most are of the variety that ride the tour bus to the South Rim, look over the edge, snap a few pictures, and remark, “wow – it’s big.” Then again, the Cool Kids hiked down and back to celebrate their 50th birthdays.

We had been “training” for the plunge into the canyon since our trip began. As the day approached and all of the stories and warnings (bring enough water!) we’ve heard piled up in my head, I couldn’t help but be just as nervous as excited. Over 200 a year take an emergency $5,000 helicopter ride out of the canyon. Our course we made it without the chopper.

For me the Grand Canyon was more than just big but there was no epiphany. It was a completely unique experience for me. Some people, most in fact, spend about 45 minutes peering over the canyon walls, and some are changed forever. For me, the experience was comfortably in between extremes and completely awesome. I am glad I can say that for myself instead of hearing or reading about it. I will hike into the canyon again, and probably out on the same day. I want to see the North Rim. Who would like to join me?

Of course we came across the usual ridiculous characters. The physical therapist who detailed his multi-month training regimen while hailing the merits of the ski-pole-like walking sticks. As awkward and frankly annoying and ugly as he is, he was able to pick up a cougar down on the canyon floor. She was traveling with two friends that she ditched for the nerd's 'expertise.' His 300-lb dad was waiting for them at the top- all in all a pretty aggressive first date.

The Cool Kids

Over the course of our near month of travels and immersion into the life of the retirees and European holiday-goers, we’ve begun to take on some of their characteristics. No, we haven’t bought visors, matching track jackets, or an RV, but we do often eat dinner before sundown and retire to bed shortly after, invent hectic schedules for ourselves involving rising with the sun, and most importantly readily talk to and take interest in strangers…especially in confined spaces.

So imagine our delight when we learned that Zion Canyon may only be traversed via free Park Service shuttle. Not only does this help to preserve the environment and avoid the traffic jams that would otherwise be endless in this immensely popular park, it offers unceasing opportunities to speak with fellow travelers, for conveniently limited amounts of time. Trust me, it’s not easy to end a conversation with an intrigued 80+’er.

Unlike Bryce Canyon, where we were amazed at how even the oldest and fattest visitors mustered the strength to enter and ascend the canyon, Zion is arranged at the bottom of the canyon leaving us plenty of opportunity to feel superior to our fellow visitors by passing them at the handicap accessible loops and moving right on to the difficult climbs of 1,500 to 2,000 feet. All of this was ground to a halt however when we met the “cool crowd”. During a late afternoon shuttle ride we encountered a group of stylishly but appropriately outfitted hikers in the 65+ crowd. After I noticed the French tips and four carats holding a walking stick and wearing wet moon boots indicating a recent trip up the Narrows (an upriver hike through a slot canyon we’d been debating) I had to know their story. Turns out this is a group, many of whom are Chicago natives transplanted to Denver, who travel together hiking the most challenging and impressive peaks and valleys in the National Parks and enjoy fine dining and high-end lodging at the end of their grueling days. In short, they’re who we want to be. Luckily, we hold a youthful exuberance they find charming. We hit it off immediately and planned to cross paths again at the 1,500-foot cliff-climb the next morning.

Thinking we’d gotten our typically early start (after all they’d talked us into making time for the Narrows in the afternoon), we worried we’d not see them on the trail…we’re really fast hikers. We should have known better than to underestimate a group that celebrated their 50th birthdays hiking the Grand Canyon, the adventure we’ve been mildly fearing for three weeks. With a lot of hustle, and a few necessary breath-catching breaks, we caught up to our friends just before they attempted the 500-foot ascent where the trail is three feet wide and drops more than 1,000 feet on either side. After congratulating them on achieving this feat in honor of their 65th birthdays, we reluctantly parted ways.



The hikes were challenging, the views rewarding, the full moon astounding, but what we loved most about Zion was being embraced by real live retirees. We are social outcasts no more. Having finally achieved this important distinction, we move on to the Grand Canyon.

A Choose Your Own Adventure

The previous teaser of the sun vomiting on Bryce Canyon could be the best way to describe this place (Bryce) but you can make that judgment for yourself. What is more difficult to describe, and possibly even more of a mystery than the geology here in Bryce, was the relationship between our campsite neighbors.

We were gearing up for temps in the 20’s, warming up by the campfire when we noticed the “couple?” across the way. He was a California surfer dude: long blonde hair, tan, and driving a Volkswagen Westfalia. (This van does have room for sleeping quarters for two- information that may be relevant later.) He couldn’t be younger than 40. She, no older than 27 was unpacking her mid-sized, hatchback SUV with Colorado tags. Upon his arrival Rach was immediately curious. We needed to know (or at least conjecture) as to the nature of their relationship.

Their conversation was blatantly uncomfortable for both them and us. By her accent, it was obvious she was German. He offered her hot tea a few times, she preferred water, and he agreed (every time.) They spent a few minutes sharing her pictures and drinking water while we started to develop theories. At this point, I was convinced he was her estranged father. She was on holiday in the US, just like half of Germany is right now (or so it seems) and he lives close enough, in Cali for a meeting in Southern Utah. The awkwardness of their conversation, the sharing of the pictures… it seemed like the classic awkward reunion of the non-custodial parent and child, with a German twist. At this point I was confident that was the case and quite happy for the father.

We enjoyed our campfire and began to make dinner. The next thing we new, they were in the van from which we could hear what sounded like music from a video game. Maybe they were playing a video game. His voice was definitely excited. The door slid shut, the music ended, and we stunned for about 30 minutes. (I don’t mean to imply too strongly that sexual relations took place – we do not know that for sure.) They came out for a moment and then retired in the van for the evening. Unfortunately, in the morning we left before we saw them again. That’s all we know.

Now it’s time for your guesses. Here are some theories from which you get start your thinking:

A) The father-daughter reunion is the case and the 30 minutes in the van was, in fact, for gaming.
B) That National Park Service sets up visiting Germans with locals for blind dates campsite style.
C) They are hard-core gamers and hikers, that met online and united for a little of both.
D) Off-season ski instructors last year reunite to rekindle the high-altitude passion.
E) Your guess is as good as any. Let’s hear it.

Oh- we also went to Capitol Reef National Park and they have great homemade pies.

Is this a totalitarian state?

Ok fine, we'll tell you about Canyonlands and Moab.

We entered Canyonlands after our adventures in Moab where we loved rafting but hated mountain biking (slash walking with a bike uphill in the sand)...I was constantly reminding M'er that there was no need to stop for me just 'cause I was making deathbed sounds. I'd either catch up, or fall down dead...either way there'd be no blame awaiting him.

On the other hand, our rafting guide Molly was worth the trip down the Colorado river alone. We picked her up in a ghost town near the river and spent the day being guided by this badass hippie who came to Utah in 1991 when she couldn't even get served a cup of coffee. 17 years later, she's married into the Mormon family that runs the newspaper, is a pillar of the community, but still hasn't given up her style; rather the town has taken it on. She spent the day laughing with us, steering us through fantastic class 3+ rapids and chatting about what seems to be on everyone's mind...the election. She made the day relaxing and interesting, especially after we realized her tone of concern amounted to a giggle, a shrug and a suggestion that maybe you shouldn't do that?

Thankfully, there is no mountain biking permitted in Canyonlands National Park, so it was back to the good ol' hiking shoes for us. This nearly inaccessible park astounded us with the canyons in canyons, hoodoos, colors, and really tough to follow trails. Yep, we got lost. Climbed ourselves halfway out of a canyon before realizing we had to go back down to find the trail; slick rock scrambling is fun but it was NOT awesome to hear we still had two miles left to climb after finally rejoining the trail. We continue to try to imagine being a Pioneer encountering these canyons after endless flat land and desert...we continue to come up with no response other than "well shit Bessie, better strap on the good Oxen". I'm pretty sure i'd be a terrible Pioneer.

After our adventures in Canyonlands, we passed through many exciting sights, and some not so exciting. The goosenecks state park where a river meanders for six miles while traveling only one mile through a canyon 1,000 feet below, a road M'er calls the Lombard St. of the Wild West, and the town of Hite...drowned by Lake Powell and as our guide book says: better passed through than slept in. We landed for the night in a motel run by the man who ate Norman Bates in a small town named Hanksville. Having heard about the Blondie's Diner, we treated ourselves to a great brunch and were treated unexpectedly to some riveting local conversation. Bobby McGee landed in Hanksville after leaving Las Vegas when it got too big and pushed out the rare desert neanderthal/humanoids he and his brother encountered in the sixties. Leaving that topic aside, we were enthralled by his cross-porch question: is this a totalitarian state? Seems Bobby was frustrated by new ATV regulations, a sentiment echoed through much of Utah frustrated with the Federal Government's large presence here. Do you think children under 16 should be within 300 ft. of an adult when operating an ATV? Bobby sure doesn't.

Bobby left us feeling re-energized and ready to face the next two parks after his stories of fantastical desert creatures, the downfall of the USA, and a brief lesson in desert Oysters and geology. More on Capitol Reef and Bryce Canyon (which looks like sunset projectile vomited all over it) in the next post, but enjoy these pics ahead of time.

Arches and Canyonlands National Parks, Moab UT

We decided to switch things up, and just provide some annotated pictures. We did some mountain biking and river rafting, but no pics from those adventures.

Photos from WY and Salt Lake City

So, Salt Lake City did NOT blow us away. The Great Salt Lake was more depressing than anything else, Oktoberfest at Alta just wasn't the same without beer, and we were heartily fooled by the Mormon church when we bought 3.2% beer at 7/11. But the locals sure seemed to enjoy it! We did make a couple more friends late-night at the campground...they seemed tipsy and desperately seeking Frank, but we had questions: what is Bud Dry? have you ever had a drink outside Utah? If yes, what happens, do you just get immediately arrested? Why is the foreign guy in the designer jeans still in Salt Lake City? And why did he feel the need to narrate/MC the evening? We weren't worried when several people drove home after all that great near-beer. Just turn right past the O'doul's billboard, a left at the Tabernacle and you're home.

Overall, Utah started off confusing. And a little bittersweet. We dropped off our treasured traveler at Salt Lake City airport and embarked deeper into this odd state on our own.

Check out the pics from Lander and Northern Utah. More to come from Moab!

Friends in High Places

We found Wyoming (the equality state oddly enough...quiz us on any of them, there's a LOT of car time and some fun facts in the Atlas) to be the friendly state. Although our political views may not be eye-to-eye with many of the only 680,000 inhabitants of the state (that's 50th of 50), our sense of hospitality, goodwill, karma, pay it forward, call it what you will, really jived with the Wyomingites (?).

After leaving Yellowstone we headed for a quick whirlwind tour of the Tetons. We intend to spend more time in this truly Grand place at a moment when Yellowstone hasn't thoroughly kicked our...

Some much needed car-time and resting got us to Lander, WY, the climbing destination of the state, nay the world. Zaks led us to this magical liberal oasis where hunters, climbers, vegans, cattle ranchers, cowboys and tree-huggers co-exist happily in one small town of less than 7,000. Here we made many friends. There was Vance, the seeming keystone of the community, and climbing legend, who lent us his book (yes, he wrote it), rented us gear, pointed us toward friendly guides, and offered reassurance to the newbies of the group. And then there was Jake, our friend made via Jameson, with whom we celebrated his birthday, and who took us climbing, not for a charge, just to share his love of the sport, the state, the country. Over the course of the next couple days, we spent a fair amount of time with these two and they out-lived every expectation.

But these weren't our only friends, or the most spectacular by far. While camping in City Park (free of charge and including an offer of a shower in the Jr. High...we did not partake), Zaks and M'er met a lady in need. Her tennis ball was sadly lodged in the fence and they happily offered (and spent a slightly pathetic 15 min. doing so) to retrieve it. After this small gesture of kindness she felt she owed these travelers. Later that evening, after having refused extravagant offers of dinner, and chuckling with a bartender at John McCain's speech (yep, they think it's funny out here too!), we returned to our campsite to find some fresh baked cookies...and a pamphlet on finding Jesus. Rather than resent the hint that we were in fact godless Jezebels, we genuinely appreciated, and indulged in the gift left by tennis ball lady. We also wished we'd cashed in on that lasagna, those cookies were good!

But Lander wasn't the last place in Wyoming we made friends. 40 miles outside Jasper, our gas light went on...uuuuuh, it's only got 25 miles left. Cell service? Nope! But never fear, gas man was there! When we stopped at a rest stop, in desperate hope of a pay phone, we found something far superior than AAA...another Wyoming citizen willing to help. He quickly saw our predicament and offered his 5-gallon gas container in addition to cold beverages. We soon learned he was a light and sound man who'd toured with Sesame Street and was now running routes for the oil companies in Wyoming, New Mexico, Utah and Colorado...and of course he lived just 15 miles away and was awaiting a visit from his grandkids, and had just sent a son to Iraq (um, extreme home makeover, where are you?). All we could think to do was pay it forward. After refusing our offer of cash, M'er started in with: "We have some delicious chocolate chip cookies..." It just seemed like what Jesus would do. Four cookies, five gallons of gas, and several friends later, we left Wyoming for Utah. We can only hope it lives up to its neighbor!

Sorry guys, not many pics of this one. Check the next post for a few from the Canyon we climbed in.

Another Reason We Owe TR

(scroll down for another new post: Cody, WY)

There is no place like Yellowstone National Park. The world’s first national park (thanks again TR) became special thousands of years ago when a giant volcanic eruption blew the top off the volcano exposing a giant valley, called a caldera. The closeness of the magma underground is what provides so many of the unique geologic features of the park. Hot springs, mud volcanoes, the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone, mountains, valleys, plains, countless rivers, and of course the famous predictable geysers make the park so dynamic. At almost any location in the park, a small pond or winding stream steams from the geothermal activity beneath the ground. Throw in the bison, elk, bald eagles, deer (we call them “face-butt deer” because well…), wolves, bears, and mountain lions and this place becomes unforgettable. We never caught sight of bears or mountain lions, but we tried hard.



Perhaps the most unique species we encountered was in the Snow Lodge restaurant, just outside Old Faithful. He looked at us through stoned-red eyes, and asked, “Is it cold in here?… I can’t tell ‘cause I have this awesome sweater.” The black and gray version of a Where’s Waldo tee he wore under the prescribed black uniform must have been awesome because it was indeed cold. From his day-old greasy, disheveled black hair, past the obligatory hemp necklace he is a round mound of awesome. His name is AJ. One semester and likely two years from graduating college, he was willing to tend to all of our dining needs, while “he was up.” After gracing us with a few awkward smiles and much-needed breaks, it was clear our comment card was going in his favor, something he greatly appreciated since he “could use something to go his way”. We miss AJ.

In seriousness, we filled our days among throngs of foreigners, RV’ers, and senior citizens taking in the highlights but we also trekked miles into the backcountry on our own. We hiked a mountain and into a canyon despite the wintry weather at night. It did snow twice during our visit. Take you time through our photos- we really hope to share our appreciation of the park with you.

If you can't have fun in Cody, you can't have fun

Fresh off our patriotic high we rolled covered wagon style into the Old Wild West in Cody, WY and boy was it wild! We joined Buffalo Bill, Wyatt Earp, Butch Cassidy, Fred, and the gang (including what seemed to be Kevin Costner keeping his acting skills up between movies with a re-enactment gig; I mean, I didn’t see Swing Vote but I had no idea things had gotten this bad!) for a good ole’ fashioned gun fight! Fear not, only the town whore and drunk bad guy died.

We scrambled for a beef dinner to soak up the remnants of the whiskey-soaked blood bath as we were late for the rodeo. The ultimate cowboy championship was hosted by a 5-time world champion cowboy and three-time broken neck survivor. We were in for an extra treat when we unwittingly sat in the VIP section next to Buffalo Bill looking pretty great for his 158 years and fresh from the town gunfight.

The rodeo was chilly, but the action was hot. We never expected anyone to be able to jump up a running horse, grab a bull by the horns, and wrestle it to the ground. We definitely didn’t see it coming in under 12 seconds.

If you don’t enjoy these pictures, it’s your own damn fault.

Correct Answer to Flinstones/Jetsons Brawl

Thank you to everyone that participated in our Flinstones/Jetsons challenge. The correct answer is: Flinstones. Although the Jeston's do have some rockin' stuff, the Flinstones have all their gadgets and needs handled by Dino-pliances. That's DINOSAURS doing your stuff for you people! Flying is cool and all, but what's better than having a pterodactyl announce the end of the day, sliding down a brontosaurus and landing directly in your car!

Mount Rushmore

Saturday, August 30, 2008
Mt. Rushmore, SD
Patriotism, Americana, and a sense of history slapped us in the face at the sight of the granite busts of George, Abe, TR, and Tommy J. TR is fast becoming our favorite dead President with his badass frontier sensibilities and creation of the NPS (our home for the month). This was luckily my second visit to the national monument. Do you ever get the feeling that you member some things as a kid as much bigger than they actually were? I kept telling Rach and Zaks how amazing Lincoln’s eyes are. “The pupils are 16 feet long!” I told them. The pupils are actually 20 inches, but still impressive. We thought Mt. Rushmore would be cheesier than it was, although at first sight it seemed we wouldn’t mesh well with the “Proud to be an American” and “Harley Davidson” tees. Our visit reminded us how amazing those four presidents truly were, how strong their convictions, how numerous their accomplishments and left satisfied…and feeling a little sheepish for not wearing our American Flag tees.
Back on the road, this upwelling of historical persons lead to another would-you-rather-type question that provided hours of entertainment. If you could take as many as 6 people from history on this road trip, who would you take? Genghis Khan was immediately shot down (the threat of mass murders and highway conquering would be too great during traffic jams) and the implications of having MLK and Thomas Jefferson in the same car seemed tenuous.
On the way out of town, we enjoyed a Bronto Burger at the Flinstone’s Theme Park but declined to pay the $9 admission to really enter Bedrock City. However, we would like to know (and took a bit too much time to answer ourselves) would you rather be the Flinstones or the Jetsons?

Badlands National Park, SD and Wall Drug

Near the western end of South Dakota, the plains end dramatically in the Badlands. Upon entering the park, the tall spires and buttes took us by surprise. I think the pictures will tell the best story of the quickly changing topography. Practically a desert, there wasn’t much wildlife that we saw during the day. However, that changed when an unpaved road took us to our campsite. Across a small field and dried-up river, we found a herd of 200 bison. After an amazing sunset we returned to camp with the bison only yards away- their eyes reflecting in the light of our lantern. The Badlands was a short but memorable stop.

And finally we reached it. 400 miles in the making, South Dakota’s version of South of the Border: Wall Drug. Now a tourist attraction, the only pharmacy in Wall, SD (current population: 800) the business survived and became famous for advertising free ice water. Of course we indulged in the world renowned water, some fresh doughnuts, photo-cut outs and a free ride on a jackalope. Would you rather be a jackalope of a unicorn? Discuss.

Check out the pics here:

Troll Town, Futuretron and Beyond!

Our morning started with a whimsical tour through Troll Town, a small Madison suburb’s grasping attempt to keep tourists driving through despite the re-routing of the main highway. Well done Troll Town; we were sufficiently intrigued, but mostly amused by a visitor center volunteer in that phase of life when time, and conversation has slowed to a crawl. After she’d answered our questions three, albeit slowly and with a bit of a cackle, we charged onward in our Volkswagen turned Delorean and burst into Futuretron!

Not knowing quite what to expect (it is the future after all), we mustered the courage to ask the surly keepers of Delaney’s Surplus where me might find the sculptures comprising Futuretron? A quick walk through a row of giant calculators, expired mustard, and hazard clean-up kits and we’d arrived. The future was a bit rusty but no less spectacular for wear. Check out the pics at Picasa...

We’d like to take a brief commercial break to thank roadsideamerica.com for these inspired stops along the way. If you’d like to participate, feel free to send us suggestions along the route!

Our visions of a future world continued with more sculptures through Minnesota, this time more functional than fantastical; the state was riddled with wind mill farms. T Boone Pickens would be proud, and so were we.

The dawn of pretirement ended as the sun set over South Dakota and we settled into a small town of roughly 500 to set up camp and with far-fetched hopes to watch the culmination of the Democratic National Convention. Ditty’s truck stop didn’t quite seem amenable to our request, but we found a friendly bartender, a $5 pitcher of Busch Light, and a patronage only half serious about uttering the word Liberal like a swear at Club Vega, the bar in town. Turns out our waitress was even a secret supporter of Hillary, although she couldn’t get the night off to watch given, as she said “it’s not really something you bring up around here.” Our journey into the future came back to the present after we’d soaked up the Fox News begrudging commentary, heartily thanked our bartender, wished our waitress well and went to sleep in a red state, feeling a bit more encouraged that the country might soon be united across “color” lines once again.

Trolltown, Futuretron and Beyond!

M'er, I said NO! Once again, stay tuned for the INTERESTING stuff...

NY - Chicago in detail

CBS radio blares at 4:15 this morning. Rachel doesn’t move. I get up, and can already hear Jack rummaging in his room. He’s got a full day of work ahead of him. Our job is to drive 842 miles. Dad jogs down the stairs in his red Nike tank top, racquetball shorts and sneakers. American flag bandana, obvi. We embrace for the first of our many hugs in the next fifteen minutes.

A few minutes to load up the car, and we were on our way by 4:45. The light at the corner of Wolver Hollow and 25A took forever. Luckily the Brookville Police didn’t catch my illegal right on red.

Pennsylvania is big! And also very beautiful. We rode through the hills and valleys of the Pocono’s Mountains. Fog crept up through the valleys and sometimes across the highway. Before leaving the Keystone State, we made our first mini-venture to Sharon, PA. Born and raised in the small industrial town, my mom remembers it fondly. The evidence of a by-gone boom area was apparent in the beautiful building stock of Main Street and the current economic downturn was even more blatant in the same buildings’ shuttered doors and windows. An eerie stillness lingered in the emptiness of the town’s centre. It was hard not to comment on the upcoming election on our way out of town.

We crossed the Ohio border and were welcomed by a great sign. After that, nothing really happened for the next 8 hours. I read our atlas carefully and now I’m excited for the world’s largest flamingo in Lake Denton WI. We’ll be headed through there by the end of the week, so stay tuned for a picture. By the way, if you’re still reading this, you should probably updating your resume instead. The Buckeye state really didn’t offer much and neither does this post.

We celebrated passing through Ohio without a speeding ticket. The best of Indiana was the Indiana Dunes State Park. For about 5 miles of Lake Michigan coastline there are tremendous sand dunes! What a surprise! We stopped for about 30 minutes to wade in the lake, hike up a dune, and learn about a dune blowout. The park is located in a somewhat ironic spot: to the east you can see a nuclear power plant, and to the west, in Gary IN, a coal burning power plant.

And we're off!

Thanks for checking out our blog! We’re pretty excited to get started. We spent a great week seeing people, beaching and going to a fantastic wedding on Long Island and we’re officially off on the road trip! So far we’ve only driven from New York to Chicago, so we’ll spare you the details of the fairly boring trip. We’ll be starting off from Chicago with Z in tow on Thursday. Stay tuned for the fun stuff and pictures later on!

Willenbacher Wedding!

Willenbacher Wedding!

Mt. Vernon Pics

Mt. Vernon 8/17/08 8:06 PM