So long, farewell, auf weidersehn, goodbye!

So this is it... Here we sit (brokenhearted) in lovely Ogallala, Nebraska, driving back home. As I say every year, the great thing about Nebraska is you can wake up in Nebraska, drive all day long (in a flat, corn-lined, straight line), and at the end of the day, you are still in Nebraska.
If you've joined us here on the ol' blog, I thank you. It's been fun. All we do now is drive and park, drive and park, drive and park, 1,500 miles. Which really isn't bad considering that when we get home, we'll have gone almost 13,000. Usually on the last post, I put together tallies of everything... how many loads of laundry, miles hiked, loaves of bread, etc., but am just too lazy. If you've enjoyed the witty banter, our new coffeetable book titled "Lewis and Clark Were a Couple of Soft-Traveling Pansies", filled with photos and delightful quips, will be available for only $149.99, or 12 monthly payments of $99.99. So, um, that's it. Nothing else to say now. Guess I should just stop typing. Yup, that's a good idea. But it's hard to give up. Really ought to finish this up, though. Definitely. Anytime now I can stop ty

Rocky Mountains... The Moose is on the Loose!

Three glorious days on the west side of Rocky Mountain National Park... We've been three times to this great place before, but never to this side. Rocky is a hiker's park, with hundreds of miles of trails, all interconnected and spiderwebby. We did a couple of great hikes, Coyote Valley, Lulu City (that's for you, Lisa), and the Two Utes Trail. ("The two what? What did you say? What the heck is a Ute? Oh sorry, the two yooooouuuuuuthezzzzz") This was a great one that we'd never done before; it started at the Alpine Ridge Center (alt: 11,800') and then went through four miles of tundra, changing into forest. We got to see several pikas, and Liz drove to the bottom of the trail and hiked up halfway with Izzie. Izzie has just - in the last week - turned into quite a hiker, carrying her own pack, finding the best rocks to climb on, and peeing behind trees.

Speaking of wildlife, we finally got to see the moose that all of those signs throughout Canada and Alaska said existed. First was a juvenile bull that was on a ridge above our campsite. Next, was a mother and calf (that's a big ol' baby) that were in our campsite! Finally, last night, we saw two enormous bulls (BFM's) that were - seriously - like every great pic you've ever seen, but bigger. Unfortunately, it was just after dark, and we didn't think it was a good idea to walk up to a 1500-pound moose and flash it in the face. That of course, put us in the minority, as the place soon filled up with morons, er, people, carrying infants, lashing cameras, and walking six feet from these two big bulls, who were starting to get seriously freaked out. We left before we had to see the ensuing carnage.

Fun on Slickrock!

We arrived in Moab on Monday evening and had a delightful dinner at a great Mexican restaurant here in town. Tuesday morning we rented two Jeep Wrangler Rubicons and headed out into the wilderness. We went on a six-hour adventure that had us climbing cliff walls, descending narrow canyons, and clenching tightly. A good time was had by all, but I must admit it was a lot rougher than I thought it would be. Having done trails over slickrock and similar terrain on my bike, I had an idea that the jeep would be quicker and smoother, but the opposite was actually true. Spots that I would/could have gone 15-20 mph on the bike we had to go 5-10.

Last night I went for a great ride at the Slickrock Trail, on their “practice loop”. It’s the same quality of riding, but it’s 2 ½ miles instead of 12. It’s what everybody (who’s smart) rides as the sun is getting lower in the sky. I had the most spectacular crash I’ve had in a while… there was a ledge, only about a foot, onto some sand. There’s lots of sand on the trail, and I thought it would be the same, and as long as I hit it flat I’d be fine. But the sand was a foot deep, so my front tire sank in, I went over the handlebars, and my bike came over the top of me and hit me in the back of the head. Ouch.

This morning we got up and went for a hike in Arches National Park up to Landscape, Partition, and Navajo Arches. It was great fun, and the most exciting part of the trail was climbing a steep slickrock fin that was maybe 200 feet long and only about 12 wide at its widest point. Landscsape Arch is cool because it’s so delicate (even more delicate than the much more famous Delicate Arch) and thin… more than 300 feet long, less than 11 feet thick at its thinnest point. In 1991, people were just hanging out, enjoying the scenery, chillaxin’, when there was a loud popping and cracking overhead… 60 tons of the arch came crashing down as everybody ran for their lives! Now, it’s off-limits and you have to see the arch from afar. Partition Arch is cool because you have an amazing view into the valley below, and Navajo is the awesomest of all… it’s a slot canyon with the arch as its gateway.

Unfortunately, when we got back from the hike I took the ol’ Denali in to see why the brakes were making noise (which started less than 36 hours after we dropped $2,000 to fix the last noise), and we not only are out another $500, we lost the car for the rest of today. So there’s no more driving to an evening hike or bike trail. Instead, we’re enjoying Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, which was filmed here in Arches. And is just a fantastic movie.

Tomorrow we depart for Grand Lake, Colorado, and a couple days on the west side of Rocky Mountain National Park.

The Loneliest Road & The Oldest Things on Earth

Hi again! It’s now August 17, and we’re on our way to Moab. In fact, by the time you read this, we’ll be in Moab. And by the time you read the posts about San Francisco, we’ll be in Moab. You see, we’ve been traveling the great states of Nevada and Utah for the past three days. We’ve been driving US-50, which is referred to by locals (and even our atlas) as “The Loneliest Road in America.” We have, for three days, been experiencing utter desolation. This is where to come if you need to get rid of a body. It is almost definitely where the government isn't hiding the aliens and testing the weapons they don't have and won't use. This morning, after leaving the Border Inn at the Nevada-Utah state line (more on that later), we drove seventy-five miles (I spelled out the numbers to make it even more dramatic) before we saw a single sign of human existence other than the road and the power lines that parallel it. After we passed this collection of buildings which may have been somebody’s home, it was another 15 miles before we reached the next sign of life. Two nights ago, we stayed in Austin, Nevada. This little town is at a crossroads, and the distances to the next town in each direction is 70, 89, 110, and 117 miles. The RV park in Austin was, shall we say, the most rustic we’ve stayed at this summer. It was a piece of dusty dirt with the owner’s mobile home and room for 8 campers but with no room in between them. It did have a steep, rocky hill directly behind the campers, and the boys immediately wanted to climb it. It looked, however, like exactly the kind of place that an entire kingdom of rattlesnakes would live. So I asked the guy who owns the place if there are snakes. “Snakes? No, there’re no snakes. My kids practically grew up on that hill.” While my first thought was shock and just a bit of sadness that someone actually spent their childhood on that piece of dirt, I sent the kids scampering up the hill. “Nope, no snakes,” he continued as the boys gleefully climbed. “Just that mountain lion that lives up there and patrols the ridge.” Yes, we let them climb anyway – we just sent Alex up there with them!

Before leaving Austin yesterday morning, I had to run over to the gas station. While there, a family who was driving The Loneliest Road had their son lock the keys in their car. And learned to their dismay that the nearest locksmith was 110 miles away. After filling up, we left Austin and drove 200 miles through nothing (it is truly a lovely nothing, all mountains and coolness, not at all like the flat desert we were expecting) to the Utah border and Great Basin National Park. We’ve never been to Great Basin before (I wonder if the ranger/s there really like it or if it is like it seems: the Siberia of the National Park Service), and were glad to have stopped. Up on Wheeler Mountain, 8,000 feet above the valley floor, is something really worth seeing. (I’m proud to say that we climbed all 8,000 vertical feet. Of course, 7,400 of it was in the car.) Up in this desolate wilderness stands a grove of bristlecone pine trees. These trees exist in only a few isolated patches in Nevada and California and they are remarkable to look at. Even more importantly, these trees are, by far, the oldest living things on Earth. The oldest of them are older than America, older than Columbus’ voyage, older than Jesus, or the Roman Empire, or even the Great Pyramids of Giza. As Kieran said, "Even older than you, Daddy?" The oldest of these trees are more than 5,000 years old. I’m pretty sure that the great sequoias and coastal redwoods are the 2nd oldest living things on Earth. And the oldest of the bristlecones are 2½ times as old as the oldest of the redwoods. And after these trees finally die, they don’t rot… they can remain standing for several thousand more years. The tree that Mom, Dad, Alex, Gabe and Kieran are standing in front of (see the picture of the day) is 3,700 years old.

Ready for a good eyeroll? Back in the 1960’s, they were really curious about how old this really old-looking tree in the grove was. So how did they determine its age? They cut it down. Once the idiots finished counting the rings, they discovered that until a few moments earlier, that tree had been living for 4,900 years. (They now take core samples, which the tree refills with resin within a few hours.) They have taken samples from enough trees that they can now cross-date them… rings from different years look different based on the weather that year, and they can look at a specific ring and know exactly what year it’s from. In this way, we know not only how old the living trees are, when the dead trees lived.

Last night we stayed at the Border Inn (and casino, and restaurant, and gas station, and RV park) that really is at the border. The casino is in the west side of the building because that’s in Nevada, while the gas station and restaurant are in Utah, meaning that the restaurant/bar serves 3.2% beer. But then you can carry your drink across state lines into the casino. I’m not sure how that all works. I had a great time with the boys standing at the welcome to Utah sign, which also welcomes us from Pacific Time into Mountain Time. We spent five minutes or so journeying into the future and back again.

As I mentioned, right now we’re on the road to Moab. Liz is driving this shift while I type, and we’re finally on an Interstate, I-70. If you’ve never driven it, this is probably the most beautiful Interstate drive in America. Right now we’re passing by massive red rock cliffs on one side, painted canyons on the other, and the entire horizon is filled with geologic wonders. It’s just lovely.

A glimpse into the future: We've reserved Jeep Rubicons for tomorrow, and we're a-goin' off-roadin'. Wooooooooooooooo-hoooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!

If you're going to San Francisco...

...Or Sam Bafisto, as Izzie says...

Okay, I’m sorry if there’s confusion about what day I’m talking about when you read this… I started typing yesterday morning, now it’s today’s night, and we won’t get this posted until tomorrow night or even the next day!

So first thing Wednesday we dropped off the Denali (SUV) and the Monaco (RV) for service and headed into San Francisco. We discovered when we returned yesterday that the Denali was not going to be finished until Monday (we're planning on leaving Saturday and our campsites are reserved for someone else) and the Monaco had yet to even be looked at. But the good folks at Victory Chevy in Petaluma (*ding*) called extra folks in and got the work done exactly at 5:00 Friday. We were so happy to get it back that we almost didn't notice that it cost $2,000. On the other hand, Hansel RV (don't say we didn't warn you if you ever need RV service in Petaluma!) not only didn't look at the RV in 48 hours, they wouldn't even return our calls from San Francisco wondering if any progress had been made. We had to drive back from the city to hunt them down and were then told that they had no intention of looking at it before Monday. We're supposed to be departing on Sunday. XXX XXXX XXXXXX-XXXXXXX XXXXXXXX XXX XXXX XX XXXXXXX XXX. Sorry, this post has been edited and redacted. And now, onward to lovely San Francisco!

San Francisco, as I may have just said, is lovely. Super lovely. It's also just a bit on the pricey side. We checked into our hotel Wednesday noon and I poked my head into the hotel gift shop for a second having seen nothing of the city... they were selling "half" coffee mugs (in a D shape) that said, "Everything was so expensive in San Francisco that I could only afford half of a souvenir mug. Um, yup. But we won't talk about that anymore.

We drove south from Petaluma and crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, which was an experience unto itself. Completely encased in a wall of fog, it was spooky and cool. We had fog-filled views of the city, and the (Oakland) Bay Bridge and the mountains and Alcatraz. A number of people were walking across the bridge, but it wasn't packed due to the fog. When we went over Friday, it was like the line ride at Disneyworld. There are lots of businesses built on renting bikes to suckers who want to ride over the bridge; problem is, there's so many people on a nice day that you have to walk your bike.

Our hotel was in the famous Fisherman's Wharf area near the waterfront, and as soon as we got checked in we went for a stroll around the area. Our stomachs led us immediately to The Blue Mermaid, a seafood café located in the cannery district right across the street from where they bring the fish in. They had this amazing crab and corn chowder, and the very best fish and chips I’ve had outside of London. After lunch, we discovered that San Francisco is chock full o’ national parks. Right there in Fisherman’s Wharf is Maritime National Historic Park, filled with all sorts of cool ships and vessels and other junk. Get it?!? Junk?!? Too funny. After we visited the ships, we headed over to Ghirardelli Square (note: it’s pronounced Geer-ardelli, not Jeer-ardelli, but don’t try telling that to anybody who’s grown up near the towns of Chye-lye, a-von, or Shar-LOTT) for some chocolate and hot fudge sundaes. Later in the day we walked up to Chinatown and had hoped to find some dinner, but soon came to realize that there was absolutely no way we could tell the essential cuisine from the really sketchy. The highlight was a team of young (high school-age) Chinese drummers and dragon dancers performing on the street. The highlight for Gabe and Kieran was that after an entire summer of swordfighting with sticks, we picked them up “real” wooden Chinese swords. We’ve dialed "91" and are just waiting to dial the final "1".

We also visited the Palace of Fine Arts and the Exploratorium, an incredibly cool and enormous hands-on science museum. Mom and Liz will tell you, however, that everything was based on the WOW factor and didn’t actually encourage you to engage in long-term explorations that left you with meaningful questions you wanted to pursue further. Teachers. Pssshhht. Whatever. Yesterday we also visited the California Academy of Science, which is a great natural history museum, aquarium, planetarium, and indoor rain forest all in one. They have this really cool white alligator. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to know how many people can actually fit in the building, and so you had to stand literally seven people deep to look at the exhibits. They must have violated the fire code. It was like attending a rave in a science museum. And so even though it cost $25 per person to get in (I know I said I wasn’t going to complain about the cost, but 25 bucks?!??!?), we only stayed about an hour.

There are so many great things about San Francisco, its cultural experiences, and its people. There is one area in which you would expect SF to excel, and that is in the quality of its street performers. Sadly, tragically, this is not the case. This is the city that holds the mighty San Francisco Symphony, and has given us some of the defining musicians of several generations, yet the street performers are the most inept, embarrassing, talentless hacks you’ll find anywhere. And I’m being kind. First off, you are only allowed to play the trumpet (badly) or the saxophone (even worse). But the “musicians” aren’t even the worst part. Apparently, somewhere in northern California there is a school for the arts that teaches people to stand still for long periods of time. Now, in any big city with street performers you’ll find these “human statues”. I have to say that would I care for these folks even less than Lucifer’s minions, the evil and dreaded mimes, except that these people are standing still and therefore can’t interact with you. There are two key differences here: First, these people are the dominant group of street performers. They’re everywhere. Second, they don’t actually stand still! They’ll be standing there with their hat or cup or whatever at their feet, standing still, but then their eyes will peek around. And then they’ll turn their head. Or maybe have a nice, long scratch. And they want to be paid for it. But you’re never quite sure if they are performing, or just waiting for the light so they can cross the street. We were also treated to a “Michael Jackson impersonator”, except dude was the only person on the block who couldn’t actually do the moonwalk. And while Michael Jackson (and may you rest in peace and if you didn’t actually do all those things I think you did then I’m sorry and hope you’re in a better place [although I’ll bet Neverland Ranch was awesome with all the roller coasters and whatnot] and Thriller was like the highlight of my life in 6th grade) was a 50-year-old who had so much plastic surgery he no longer looked human, let alone like Michael Jackson, this guy just looked probably like what 50-year-0ld Michael Jackson would have really looked like. And I have to say, in retrospect, maybe all of species-altering facial surgeries weren’t such a bad idea. The only other street “performer” worth noting was Mr. Sparklypants (I’m pretty sure that’s not his Christian name or even what he calls himself, but I don’t know what else to refer to him as) who was pushing eight feet tall (although honestly, a lot of people look that tall from down here) and was completely covered, head to toe in prism-like silver sequins.

The one cool street musician we saw in two full days was a Chinese musician playing the Chinese fiddle (I’m sorry, Professor Malm, I just can’t think of what it’s called right now). He was, however, in true SF street style, playing not traditional Chinese music, but Happy Birthday and Auld Land Syne.

On our way back toward the hotel, as it was starting to get dark, we passed the most formidable person we saw in the whole city. We saw her coming from a block away… tall, statuesque, in a very short dress, with very high heels (yes, it was a woman). But then there was a thick chain (think padlock, not Tiffany) that went all the up her thigh and just disappeared. Somewhere. And with her, wearing a studded leather collar, was the biggest, most vicious looking dog you’ve ever seen. And he was off-leash. In the city. And when they got to the intersection across the street from us, she inaudibly whispered some near-silent command. It was so delicate, so hisslike, it may have been Parseltongue. And the dog immediately heeled. And so did the rest of us.

We were incredibly fortunate to get three solid days of sunshine in the place they call “Fog City”, but by yesterday (Friday) all of the touristy spots had filled beyond capacity. We had planned for a winery tour today, but then learned that there’s actually a wine country festival going on, and all of the wineries will be filled beyond capacity. And it turns out that we don’t actually like people. Well, except you, of course. We like you quite a lot. We’ll except you there in the blue chair. You’d be the first to go.

We’re on the road today, driving the lonely road through Nevada, and will be stopping in Great Basin National Park tonight. We’ll be deciding tonight whether to go to east to Moab or northeast to Rocky.

For what it’s worth, I highly recommend a trip to San Francisco, although you might want to get that second mortgage approved before you go.

We never did locate the nuclear wessels.

California Dreamin'

Hello friends and welcome back… I’ll bet you thought I’d forgotten you!

We’ve been having a swell time here at Redwood, and this morning we’ve just departed and are going to San Francisco. We’ve all made sure to wear some flowers in our hair. We’ve got a long day of driving ahead of us so we were up early, hurrying to depart, and spent most of the day yesterday getting everything packed up. We made it 20 feet before Mom and Dad realized that their super-awesome automatic retracting steps weren’t, um, retracting. So we stopped. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And a crowd gathered, with everyone wanting to help. It was just exactly like that seen in the huh-larious movie RV (the only Robin Williams movie I’ll watch) “Watcha need here is a sewer hose speader.”Except there was no sewage eruption. We finally got on the road at 10:00. (Update 9:00 pm: Upon arrival, we discovered that the super-awesome automatic retracting hydraulic leveling jacks aren't, um, leveling. We're taking the thing in for service in the morning.)

Sunday night Gabe, Kieran and I went on an excellent backcountry overnight adventure. We hiked down the Ossagon Creek Trail (with Mommy and Yaya part of the way) for two miles (all downhill!) and then Monday morning hiked three miles on the Coastal Trail (all flat!) to meet everybody else at Fern Canyon. Which we, of course, always refer to as Fern Gully. It was a great overnight adventure with just about the perfect campsite, a clearing in the woods with a stream on two sides, a quarter-mile from the Pacific. The area of the backcountry campground and that stretch of Coastal Trail are home to a large elk herd. I ran into them (well, through and past, actually) on my bike two years ago and there were dozens of them. It appears by the amount of flattened grass and the hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of examples of what we politely call scat that the herd is even larger now. We’ve been reading and watching Harry Potter books and movies in the evenings this week, and the wizards often transport themselves chimney-to-chimney via the Floo Network. So the boys figured out that we were being transported on the Poo Network.

Sunday morning we went to Hidden Beach, so-named because it’s in a cove unseen from the other beaches and available only via a hike through dense forest. Like, tunnel-dense. We went two hours after high tide and had an experience we’ve never had before. We’ve been to tidepools but never have we seen such an abundant and diverse collection of life. We saw dozens of starfish, anemones, crabs (although the birds had been there and it was like the crab holocaust… you could hardly move without stepping on a piece of some poor, delicious crab. Should have brought butter), snails, mussels, periwinkles, and more. We spent more than an hour examining all of the wonderful things and climbing the rocks. Sadly, we also found a deceased sea lion.

Saturday was a fantastic day of making use of a campground. We didn’t do anything productive (well, maybe some laundry) and instead sat around all day reading, playing at the playground with the kids, cooking on the ol’ campfire, enjoying a nice cold beverage, and berry-picking. The campground (it’s actually the Klamath Camper Corral – luckily not a KOA because then it would be named the Klamath Kamper Korral and you just don’t want those initials) is completely surrounded by blackberry bushes, on the trails out the Klamath River are also lined with blackberry bushes. We’ve had fresh blackberries, blackberry Cheerios, blackberry muffins, blackberry pancakes (Mom cooked! Outside!), blackberry oatmeal, blackberry compote to put on toast, and are currently bringing buckets and buckets of fresh and frozen (for jam) berries with us. We probably got back our week’s fee for camping in berries. The grand champion berry-picker in all categories--spotting, quantity, quality of berries, and efficiency of picking--is none other than three-year-old Izzie. No, we haven't adjusted for age. She's simply amazing at it, like a machine, some kind of berry picking savant.

Friday we went on a spectacular hike through the big trees. This loop took us on the James Irvine, Cintonia, and Miner’s Ridge Trails, and was about eight miles long. We saw every cool thing there is to see with the Redwoods on this hike… trees that are 350 feet high; trees that are just a shell of bark for 200 feet but are still alive and growing at the top; trees that were broken, then grew horizontally, then were broken again, then grew up, giving them a lightning-bolt shape; trees that you can climb under and through. I thought it was probably the greatest hike we’ve been on this summer, but I know that not everyone agrees. If Dad we’re blogging he’d say, “First there were some trees, and then there were trees. After lunch, we saw trees.”

We're camped in Petaluma, and right in the heart of wine country. We passed any number of vineyards and wineries on the way, and for a long while our road (Rte 101) parelled the Russian River. But I'm not drinking any @#*@# merlot!

So tomorrow morning we're dropping off Mom and Dad's RV (step, leveling system failure) and the Denali (exhaust/engine, leveling system failure) at two seperate service centers for, you guessed it, service. We're renting a car and heading into the big city for two nights at a real live hotel! We're not planning on bringing the computers with us, so you're going to have to hold on for a couple of days without my incredible, insightful, wit. (Those who read these words of wit...) I'd suggest reading a book, or watching the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy in one sitting.

Buh-bye!

Redwood Day 1

We spent a fun-filled first day here in Redwood... hiking in the tall old trees, walking on the beach, seeing some elk, picking wild blackberries, finding banana slugs.

The day started nicely enough, as we piled into the car to start the day only 3 1/2 hours after the kids woke up. We visited a couple of visitor centers (Redwoods is actually 1 national and 3 state parks, and each has their own visitor center), and then went for a nice walk on the beach. Those of you who have been to this part of the world know that there are major differences between the Atlantic Ocean in Florida or the Carolinas and the North Coast Pacific. Everything is rocky, with enormous craggy boulders and small mountains rising from the ocean. It's too cold and choppy and rocky to actually swim, but that's okay.. the views are what make it so incredible. While on this walk we did just a bit of rock climbing and a lot of driftwood swordfighting, during which Gabe, who has absolutely zero idea of where his body is at any given time, never mind a long stick, whacked his dear ol' Poppy square in his right temple, denting both his eyeglasses and his head. We also got a quick peek at some grey whales and some harbor seals. It's a great place where you have to watch out for both Sneaker Waves and tsunamis!

We walked through the Ladybird Johnson Grove of redwoods in the early afternoon. Seeing the great coastal redwoods is an amazing thing. It's not just the size of the trees, despite the fact that they are well over 300 feet tall. It's the way they grow in clumps and the "cathedral trees", a cluster growing in a circle that twist into a pillared roof hundreds of feet up. It's the mammoth rhodedendrons, and the ferns that are 10 feet tall. It's the redwoods, with their entire inside burnt out to a height of 200 feet, still alive and thriving and able to be climbed through. It's the gentle mist hanging low in the valley. At any moment you expect to see a brachiosaurus crashing through the understory. It's just awesome.

At the end of the day we had spaghetti with Dad's homemade sauce, frozen lo these many moons, and it was a delicious taste of home. After dinner we went to the overlook 1,000 feet above the mouth of the Klamath River and then went down to the beach at False Klamath Cove to do a bit of rock climbing and tidepool searching. Even saw some dolphins swimmin' in the cove.

The day finished with part 1 of a Harry Potter flick, and now we're doing what we do... blogging, reading, planning tomorrow. We'll see you then!

Riders on the Storm

Well, it was actually just a bit breezy and otherwise completely lovely...

We're staying in Diamond Lake National Forest, and decided today to actually not get in the car. We instead took a series of bike rides and walks down to the lake. The area is filled with both mountain bike trails and a paved 11-mile circuit that goes around this beautiful mountain-ringed lake. All of today's pics are taken from bike trails, quite often while in motion.

I got in 30 miles, Gabe did 16 (including 4 miles of hard mtb trail), Mom and Dad did 12. I can't actually sit down right now, but you really don't need all the details.

Just like yesterday, the wind shifted at around 4:00 and blew the forest fire toward us. There was quite a lot of smoke on the water, but fortunately, there was no sign whatsoever of any fire in the sky.

We built the world's hottest campfire tonight. It was drowned three times with logs left actually swimming in water and sprung back to full flame each time. Sorry, no hilarious song reference there.

Tomorrow we go to Redwood, the coolest, foggiest, greatest place there is. The only thing it seems to be lacking, actually, is any sort of modern infrastructure, including wifi. Last time we were there we sat in a cafe 20 miles from our campground trying desperately to get a signal. So there's a good chance we won't be able to post regularly.

Keep in mind, those of you who've been following along for a couple of years, that this is where I, world-class fisherman Mark Gowman, set the year's record on the Klamath River with a 33-pound king salmon. I also hauled in an 80-pound sting ray off the Carolina coast, and have caught a couple of other very large fish. I know this sounds like bragging, but it's just because I'm not actually a fisherman. These are the only fish I've ever caught. Even Babe Ruth couldn't touch that slugging average.

If we don't post anything for a couple of days, but you just have to know what's going on and your life isn't complete without your daily dose o' Gownezio, you can just look here and pretend it's happening right now.

See you soon!

Crater Lake!

Photo Caption... Wizard Island: Volcano-in-a-volcano.

Last night we arrived in Crater Lake, on our third attempt... twice before we had mechanical difficulties right at this point in the trip and never made it here. We had planned on a long day of driving yesterday, but there is a forest fire 40 miles to the west of here. We, of course, were approaching from the west, which means we had to drive all the way around the mountains to come in from another direction!


Today was a truly great day... we drove around the park, got to see the stunningly beautiful, crystal-blue lake, hiked down 700 feet of elevation to the lake, took a swim, took a two-hour-long boat tour (a two-hour tour, a two-hour tour...), hiked back up, all in all it was great fun!


Celebrity Sighting! We were just all hanging out, having lunch at the lake shore after hiking to the bottom, and who comes swimming by? None other than Hollywood superstar Brad Pitt! No, wait, that's just me. It's a fairly common mistake.

Caution: Educational Content. In case you don't know, Crater Lake was once a 12,000-foot-high volcano named Mt. Mazama that got ticked off and done gone and blowed itself up. Done ee-rupted so dang big he done falled in on hisself. It's the deepest lake in the U.S., 9th deepest in the world, and is the clearest lake on Earth. (Yes, they can measure it.)

We drove in through a wicked awestorm thunderstorm last night, hail and everything. Unfortunately the lightning set off a couple more fires in addition to the big one. It's all smokey and whatnot here. Incidentally - and this is important, so pay attention - his name is Smokey Bear. Not Smokey the Bear. He's got no middle name. Yes, I did once get a serious reprimand from a park ranger on this very topic.

How 'bout dem pictures?!?!?

p.s. Izzie has, for the last two days, started referring to herself as Jesus. Don't know why. We suggested to her that if she's Jesus, she might actually have to start being nice to people. Don't think she's going to fall for it, though.

Hot, Majestic Beauty!

But enough about Liz.

We arrived Wednesday at Mt. Rainier. Mt. Rainier is a beautiful little hill and a beautiful place. Many people say that it would still be a national park even if the mountain weren’t there. It is known for its cool, wet climate… except for now. We are here for a remarkable heat wave, with temps each day well into the 90s and over 100. We’re actually faring pretty well… it’s the locals (used to the cool, wet climate) who are having a really hard time. Of course, this heat wave has also crippled the electrical system in our campsite, meaning our big tin can bakes in the 100-degree sun all day but then doesn’t have A/C to cool off at night.

You would think that a heat wave like this would negatively affect the visual impact of the place, but the opposite it true… there is so much sudden snowmelt that the creeks, rivers, and waterfalls are running like we’ve never seen them before. The sky is clear blue, and in the morning you can see for miles.

Today we took a stroll around The Grove of the Patriarchs, an area filled with 1,000 year old, 200-foot-high cedar, fir, hemlock trees. The largest of them, cleverly referred to as The Big Cedar, is about 15 feet in diameter. Yesterday we strolled around Paradise, home to the most beautiful wildflowers anywhere, and then took a 4.5 mile hike on the Wonderland Trail (Mt. Rainier’s perimeter trail) down from Narada Falls. Mom, Dad and I did this hike in 2007, and it is one of our all-time favorites. In November 2006 there was a major flood… bigger than even a once-in-a-century event, this was a landscape-altering flood that did remarkable damage to the natural elements and destroyed the man-made infrastructure to the tune of $25 million. Nature will take years to heal herself… like the Nisqually River which went from being 10-15 feet wide to a flood surge sometimes 500 feet wide and 50 feet deep. See the pics for yourself at the bottom of the post… anywhere you see large boulders or a wide chute or swath (including Liz and Dad hiking across and looking at a gutter that goes all the way up the mountain), that’s the flood.

We love looking for and even on rare occasions seeing bears, but it’s nice to hike here and not have to worry about being something’s next meal. There is a small black bear population here, but that’s a far cry from our campground in Alaska which had “No Tents, No Soft Sided Trailers, No Being Out of Your Camper At Night Due to Regular Visits by Large Grizzlies and WOLVES” posted at the entrance.

Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to camp out here either… since the weather’s been so dry, a lot of people have come down from Seattle and all of the backcountry campsites within our skill/distance level are filled up.

Wednesday we also went Northwest Trek. This is a great zoo that only deals with animals native to this region, with an enormous, 500-acre preserve with the animals in their natural habitat (except for without the carnivores). You hop on a tram and go on an hour-long safari with moose, elk, bison, deer, trumpeter swans, and more. Pretty cool.

We spent Monday night and Tuesday back in civilization in the charming little hamlet of Seattle. We even ate at Outback Steakhouse! In the city we went to the great Seattle Aquarium, then had lunch at one of the outstanding pier seafood restaurants, and then took a stroll around Pike Place Market, Seattle’s great public market. Got some amazing cherries and other goodies, and got a bouquet of flowers for the RV… flowers are one of the most appealing things about the market… they are simply the most beautiful bouquets you’ll find anywhere, and almost all are priced at either $5 or $10. Most would easily go for $40-100 at your local florist.

Sunday we pack up and head (we hope!) to Crater Lake. We have had plans for Crater Lake twice before and twice have had some major mechanical catastrophe keep us from our destination. We think we have on-site access to both the Interwebs and the Googles, so maybe we’ll get a couple of good, regular posts up.

Happy Birthday to Grandma Gowman!!!