Bueller…Bueller?

Is this thing on?  To anyone that might actually check this blog (Hi Mom!), sorry for the lack of posts.  We will try to post more often.

Well, we’re back on the road after 6 months of an action packed summer/fall full of work, camping, weddings, and adventure in Carbondale, Colorado.   We landed in San Jose del Cabo last Saturday and hung around till Friday fixing the van, eating tacos, hanging with Julie and Hopper and then headed to La Paz to catch the ferry to the mainland.   After a 17 hour boat ride we blasted down the coast to Sayulita to relax for a few days amongst the sun and surf.

Running tallies:

Tacos: 42 as of 12/16

Bribes (received or paid): 0

Birds into windshield: 1

Mexican cokes: 4

Principe cookies: 2 packages

Topes: too many to count

Mechanicals: 0

# of times Hula girl has fallen off dash: 3

Lost: 0

Bug Bites: George – 2            Rachel – 0     

Times we wished we had air-conditioning: 3

Square inches of room left in the rocket box: 1

Hot & cold with highs & glows….

We’ve spent the majority of our time in the Baja bouncing from coast to coast looking for weather that was warm but not killer hot and for waves. I know it’s hard to imagine, but this is easier said than done. When you live in a van, weather is paramount. Nonetheless we have been enjoying tacos, all the wonderful people, and all the wild scenery along the way. The Pacific is still pretty chilly and the June gloom hangs around until about noon everyday. Puerto Santo Thomas, set upon rocky cliffs with plenty of tide pools to explore, was beautiful and isolated, the wind howled and the marine layer was thick. Erendira, with its long sandy beaches between the cliffs, was bustling with Baja 500 racers pre running the course. It was also the perfect setting to install the new thermostat that Dolores kept hinting that she needed. El Socorrito was a hopeful stop for waves. Hopeful only goes so far and instead we explored the white sandy beach, dunes and tide pools and watched a beautiful sunset over the sea.

The next morning we put some miles under our belt and booked it for Bahia de los Angeles.  The Sea of Cortez side proved to be wonderful; the water was warmer and it was hot during the day. For waves we traded awesome sunrises, sunsets and so much marine life to explore in the bay. One evening after a very colorful sunset we were looking at the sky full of stars and heard whales surfacing while they were cruising around the bay. Had it been daylight we surely would have seen them in the crystal clear water. Here we enjoyed the best tacos de pescado of the trip and I discovered barrilla con carne, a fabulous fresh beef soup served with onions and cilantro.  Until then I’d been hooked on our discovery in Ensenada, tacos de cabeza.  The glassy water of the bay could only hold us for so long.

Heading back to the Pacific side, Dolores made up her mind that we were going to have a cultural experience instead of search for waves. Her temp went up following our first beach drive and right as we were pulling on to the point of Santa Rosalillita. After exploring this issue, we discovered the coolant level sensor cap missing, leaving a gaping hole in the reservoir. Since there were no issues driving on the highway, we assumed it was lost on the bumpy road in and decided to walk the few mile stretch we’d just driven to see if perhaps we’d be lucky and find it. No such luck. When we returned to the van on the desolate stretch of coast, there was a car parked next to us with chairs and umbrellas set up. From the two couples one of the men approached us and asked if we had any spoons and then insisted that we join them.  Although we tried to explain that we needed to work on fixing the van, he persisted that the clam ceviche that he just made was a higher priority at the moment.  We sat with his wife and his parents and enjoyed cocos con limon, ceviche, picante nuts, tecate light and learning about one another. George learned how to say and kept repeating, “Yo puedo estar mas feliz/I could not be happier.” When we said our goodbyes, they gave us all the food they had prepared and invited us to their home in Guerrero Negro for dinner the following evening and reminded us that now we were their friends. Another testament to the wonderful people of Mexico.

The fix to the van was pretty great – George gets major points for this one. It includes: the cap to the epoxy, about an inch of surfboard repair epoxy, the last of our 3M plastic adhesive, the flattest rock that could be found, paper towel, duct tape, and finally zip ties. And of course, it worked like a charm.

The next morning we headed off to a beautiful surf spot that finally had the waves that George was looking for with some amazing art from other frequent visitors. Deciding that we’d rather make the push to San Ignacio that afternoon, we headed back to the highway, stopped for tacos and painfully pushed through the hot afternoon drive.  San Ignacio stole our hearts with its classic shaded town square, camping along el Arroyo, shady palm trees and big Mexican and Canadian breakfasts. A true oasis in the vast desert of Baja.

Excited to get back to the beach, we headed toward Bahia Concepcion stopping at Mulege along the way. By the time we got there it was so hot we stopped at the first spot that had access to the water, Playa Santispac. A lovely little sandy beach with palapas, for some much needed shade, and a little restaurant serving strong margaritas. A super hot paradise. In the morning we went diving for clams and scallops, and a swim with the fish. Word on the street was there was a south swell coming in so it was time to get moving to San Juanico. After a little fit from Dolores about the heat, which we totally understood, we were hot too, we decided to call it a day at Puerto Escondido.  A swim in the pool and free margs with dinner was just the thing to cure the heat of the day.  We awoke in the morning to 97 bug bites between the two of us, but that didn’t stop us from an early departure for San Juanico. The bee that flew up my shorts while driving and stung me near my unmentionables did put a small pause in the drive. The welt from the sting is about the size of a baseball and I’m not sure there is enough hydrocortisone cream in the world to battle the itching.

San Juanico/Scorpion Bay is all it’s made out to be with the southern swell and George is enjoying the surf. Falling asleep to the sound of the waves again is nice, in almost makes the 97 bug bites not itch. All in all, the weather is warm and life is good.

See additional photos here.

a dream realized...

So once again we entered Mexico; the first time we had been beaten - primarily by our own stupidity, over confidence and lust for adVANture.  This time we tried with all our might to plan, re-plan, check and re-check plus dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s.  Well we made it beyond our first attempt by a good 15KM(about 8 miles) and then we pulled over…

This time we pulled off the road and into a RV parking lot that happened to be in front of a right point break that is consistently rated as one of the “best most consistent point breaks in all of Baja.”  I was starting to freak out; the swell had picked up a bit, the wind was offshore and glassy head high plus waves kept peeling down the line with only about 6 guys in the water.  I had to tell myself to soy tranquillo; as I have learned that enthusiasm, while being one of my strongest character traits can also lead to irrational decision making and I was about to get into some of the biggest surf of the trip so far.

I made myself a cup of espresso and then I sat on the point and watched the waves until that coffee was gone.  Dudes were ripping; airs, cutbacks, and a few mini-barrels.  I was about to be the biggest kook in the water; essentially, the guy in the way, smiling like an idiot, getting caught inside and probably the most stoked.  Being from Colorado has its perks as we don’t have waves and as a result most waves that the others pass on are pretty much everything we need and want in a wave.

I went back to the van to find Rach passed out on the lower bunk with a bit of a cold and began to de-wax my 6-8 single fin hull that I picked up at Mollusk in San Francisco.  Coming from SF the board was covered in Cold Temp wax and was literally melting off in the warmer water of Southern California. I re-waxed it with cool-warm wax, threw on my wetsuit and headed off to the point to try and make my way into the lineup.

Just getting into the water was sketchy; the shore bottom was covered in large cobblestones coated with moss/seaweed/green extremely slick stuff, crashing waves and the occasional urchin for the first 20 feet into the water until it was deep enough to paddle.  I made my way out and again, sat and watched the waves break.  Then I positioned myself a bit inside to pick off a smaller wave; I caught one and immediately realized my mistake (in addition to catching the first set wave.) While surfing down the line, the wave and I were headed for a rock about the size of a Volkswagen bug – I kicked out the back in a panicked maneuver that landed me in the direct impact zone of the next 3-4 larger waves.  I paddled and duck-dived, but I ended up almost right back on the rocks where I started.

…I paddled back out, sat and waited and watched.  Gradually, I rotated into the lineup with the 5 other guys and then got a couple decent waves.  Super stoked, I headed right back into the lineup and watched the dudes get some really good waves from the top of the point.  By no action of my own I got sucked by the current into top of the point position and then paddled right into the biggest wave of my life.

Overhead and terrifying I raced my little single fin hull down the line as the wave walled up in front of me, I made it through a section of white wash, let the wave wall up again, trimmed down the face in a crouch, a dude “yewwwww’d!!” at me, carried plenty of speed through the flats to get past the Volkswagen bug rock where the wave re-formed at a second point, finally trimmed up and down a bit and then kicked out the back.  Legs shaking, shit eating grin and the little kid in me screaming, “do it again, do it again” I headed straight back to the point.

I am the Lorax and I speak for the trees…

Joshua Tree National Park :: May 17, 2013

To put a few miles under Dolores' belt and shake out anything else that she might have up her sleeve we decided to check out Joshua Tree – what a great decision! If any of you haven’t had a national park blow you away, I’d suggest adding this to the list of places you’d like to visit. 
It was like Moab, Arches, Yosemite, with a shake of Grand Canyon and Mars all melded into one – a completely unexpected dose of total awesomeness that we both needed. The Flintstone like piles of rocks were stacked perfectly throughout the park. Each pile had rocks resembling something hysterical like Homer, Tucan Sam’s beak, a perfect round ball, Clinton’s nose – it was hours of entertainment for us.

The light during sunrise and sunset is a photographers dream offering a perfect warm glow for any chosen subject. Most people that have visited the park mention the trees and how it makes you feel like you’re in a Dr. Suess book.  I can’t say enough about the trees and all the other flora and fauna that we saw.  If you know me, you know I’m especially excited by plants; I’m stoked by all the different ways photosynthesis is carried out. The way each of the plants here has evolved to exist and flourish in such hostile environments and climates: minimal water, occasional flash floods, snow,
high winds and even to the point of being reliant on one another is quite impressive.  Throw in a couple of oasis(es) with giant shady palm trees and I was pretty much in heaven.

To top it off, I saw a bobcat on my way back from the bathroom in the middle of the night.  You may ask yourself why in the world I had my camera with me in the bathroom to offer the opportunity to take this not-so-great photo. The answer is this GIANT black widow.  No one believed me that it was there so I wanted photographic proof. The real treat came in the morning when George discovered that the little kitty cat had left him a present on his washcloth.

Back to the beach, and hopefully a Mexican beach soon.

More photos from this trip can be seen over here >>

As luck would have it… Alpine, CA

There have been more than a handful of false starts for this trip, but as everyone keeps reminding me it is an adVANture.  So I guess that solves that, we’re not on a trip but an adventure and our van Dolores is calling the shots.  So far, although I’m not sure I agree with her every decision, I can’t say I question her judgment.  She has a way of showing us that awesome people exist everywhere in the world.

If we had tried desperately to find the one place in the nation we could land that could help us solve the little pickle that we’re in, I don’t think we would have found a place with this much talent, kindness and the background to help us perfectly.  The VW world is amazing, and sometimes small. The VW/Subaru motor world is even smaller, and turns out just as amazing. 

Our predicament of being towed back to San Diego with a giant paperweight and little budget to make it anything more than that, made me understand how you see VWs left in corners of fields. Prior to this I had always asked myself how you could leave such a classic vehicle to rust away? Now I fully understand – they end up there because they push you to a breaking point.

Evaluating the cost of a new engine and the serious blow it would have on our budget coupled with the lingering feeling of even if we did put another new engine in Dolores, did we have the confidence in her to drive her all the way south? Or would we need to start thinking about other options…  Could we even afford to sell the van? Could we ship it home to work on it?  Could we burn it to the ground in the Days Inn parking lot?

Our day had started at 5am for the border crossing, we didn’t want to end it with a decision that might rule out the plan that we’d worked so hard for.  We decided to sleep on it. George, unable to sleep combed the internet while sobbing softly for a solution until the wee hours of the morning.

As luck would have it the next morning George got a single phone call. The man on the other end of the phone was Steve of S&S Motors and pretty much our hero.  Not only is he arguably one of the best Subaru motor builders in the country and a super nice guy, he’s also a winner of the Baja 1000. Our hero Steve allowed us to stay on his property and work on the van. During which an important and exciting discovery was made: nothing was wrong with the motor itself. Instead, the new starter we had installed during our Denny’s breakdown a few weeks earlier was a cheap-o part; a bearing in it had failed and jammed against the flywheel making the motor seem seized.

George, being the awesome husband that he is, took one for the team. To work off our time there he got to partake in his favorite construction past time of hanging drywall on the ceiling of their new dyno test area – just a cool 1000 sq ft in 97-degree weather. 

Between that and recovering from some binge working on the van we’re taking a few days and a few miles to make sure Dolores doesn’t have any other tricks up her sleeve. San Onofre happens to be the perfect place for this; sun, waves and an awesome vibe - easily my favorite beach in California so far.

The Redwood Forest, CA, USA

Giant Redwood Trees

Straight from George picking me up at the airport we headed to the Redwood Forest. Destination: Avenue of Giants, recommended by a friend.

The drive there was stunning, rolling green hills, vineyards, happy cows and an emerald green snaking river.  The land scape changed dramatically from acres of farmland to steep hills blanketed in dense forest.

Markers showing what this tree saw in its lifetime

Our drive through the Avenue of Giants, one of the largest populations of Redwood on the planet, was quiet, cool and perhaps even a little creepy as we cruised through the winding road.  It was a sleepy place, like a breezy summer afternoon that makes you want to curl up with a good book and eventually fall into a nap.  The air is perfect; fresh and moving just enough.

It was hard not to feel like a hobbit and to not think about how our lifetime is a blink compared to the age of these monsters. Many of these trees were standing when the Vikings discovered North America. Over the years they have withstood fires, floods and humans.

I was sure the Redwood forest was going to be pretty cool, but I couldn't stop telling George how amazing and unbelievable it was.  Those of you that know me can only imagine what this was like.  I must have muttered "I love trees" a thousand times.

Total tree huger

As we were leaving George noted that they really were missing out on some marketing opportunities by not having t-shirts that said things like:
I hugged a tree today.
I love trees.
I hugged the tallest tree in the world today.
I'm a tree huger.


The rest of our photos from this leg of the trip can be seen here: http://tinyurl.com/d5wd358