THE 2005 LEFT COAST VACATION: TRAVEL DIARY

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Sun 10 July 2005
(Prelude)
If you're stopping by to see how the vacation is going so far, let me catch you up on what's been happening.

Not a lot.

See, Kris and I do things at our own pace and that includes planning and packing for a three-week vacation. We really needed a week's vacation just to get ready for the three-week vacation. And of course we underestimated how long things like installing the back screen, awning, and cargo carrier on the Eurovan would take. And we certainly did not take into account a bolt shearing off in the transmission pan as Kris was replacing it less than 48 hours before our original planned departure time. Leaving a clean house for the dog/house sitter was also time consuming. So was my compulsive list-making about all the things I had to get done before the three-week vacation.

And what does this all mean? Instead of leaving Austin at the crack of dawn on Saturday, July 9, we finally left at 11 a.m. Sunday, July 10. But I am pleased to say, that despite setbacks, procrastination and altering our course as we went, I am writing this from a crappy little RV park in Roswell, N.M. The goal for day one: Make it across the Texas state line. Mission accomplished.

Now for some of things I have not accomplished up to this point in the trip: customizing the very cool program SlideShowPro to display my photos of the trip; setting up my blog software for an easy travel diary; testing my new digital camera's software and the new card reader. Well, that's what hours and hours and hours in the van are for.

(Wow, that was exiciting. We just walked over to the restrooms at this campground only to discover that there were locks with entry codes on the doors. Since we came in after the office was closed, we didn't have the entry codes. Lucky for us, they were easily guessed. If your PIN number is *123, change it now!)

Until I get the blog software up and running (if that happens) I will just post entries here as time allows. Enjoy!

Sun 10 July 2005
(Austin :: Eden :: San Angelo :: Big Spring :: Seminole :: Hobbes :: Artesia :: Roswell)
Decided to take the route less traveled, hopefully. Instead of IH-10 all the way to L.A., on the recommendation of a friend we opted to take the Austin-San Angelo-Roswell, N.M.-Interstate 40 route to California. This was not a very exciting choice to me because my parents live 20-or-so miles off U.S. Hwy. 87, but it is a familiar route for that very reason. So we called the 'rents on the way and met them at the Dairy Queen in Eden, Texas, for a chat before the long journey. DQs are popular places in small towns. I think the entire popluation of Eden was queued up when we arrived. After our visit, mom and dad followed us to San Angelo where they went to visit Aunt Modene in hospital and we started our adventure in earnest.

Just outside of Sterling City, we passed a panel truck parked on the side of the road. A guy was getting a guitar case out of the back of the truck. As we passed it, I noticed the side of the truck said "Pantera." Hmmm...

U.S. Hwy. 87 is a four-lane divided highway from Sterling City to Big Spring. Why? Can there be that much traffic in this part of the state? I come down on the firm side of "no."

Big Spring is much prettier than I remember. And they apparently have a brewpub, although we couldn't discern whether it was just closed on Sunday or closed for good. Seminole, where my cousin Dale works and hometown of Mr. Basketball Chris Ogden, is not worth the trip. (Sorry, guys.) The dust and wind blow too hard there for me. We could tell the second we crossed the New Mexico state line; the road went to shit. Be thankful Texas spends so much of your tax dollars on its roads. The entire drive between Hobbs and Artesia stinks (literally) because of the oil and gas production. We said a "hooyah!" when we finally escaped that awful smell. Roswell wasn't much of an improvement. It smelled like a giant feedlot. Plus the people at the visitor center were insane and I didn't see any aliens. Except inflatable ones in storefronts. Everywhere. You. Looked.

(Sidebar: I know some people take their alien sightings very seriously, so please don't send me emails. But what sort of conceit is it that makes us think that a highly intelligent species can pilot a craft billions and billions of light years, then suddently forget how to steer straight and crash into our freakin' planet? Did they take their eyes off the intergalactic highway for a second and Earth just jumped out in front of them? Were they too busy screaming at the kids in the back seat? It gives one pause.)

No Nextel service since Llano. Rain-X rocks. The stereo we just installed in the van has a dongle to hook up an iPod, so we have beaucoup tunes for driving. We realize we are nerds.

Once again, we are the littlest RV and youngest RVers in the campground. I think we make people nervous.

Mon 11 July 2005
(Roswell :: Alberquerque :: Flagstaff)
Day two on the road, this one filled with small woes. First, the porta-potty we carry on long adventures started sliding around the cabin of the camper, and the last thing you want sliding loose around your camper's cabin is a porta-crapper, empty or not. After one turn that sent it tumbling, it landed upside-down in the step cutout by the sliding door. Luckily, there was no traffic where we were, so Kris just stopped the van in the road and I jumped out to save the potty. After a successful rescue, we discovered that the bottom of the potty was swelling up from air pressure because we were at a high elevation. Near disaster averted, I decided to relegate the potty to storage at the back of the van. It was about this time that I realized that I was standing on an overpass on IH-40 carrying a porta-shitter. I hope I gave the folks on the highway below something to laugh about.

Second, we discovered we had a short in our stereo system. Actually, we discovered this about three blocks after leaving the house yesterday. We managed to keep the sound on through day one by banging on the speaker in the passenger door, but day two bought only silence from the Blaupunkt. So Kris decided to pull over and try to diagnose and hopefully fix the problem. (Technically, this is what caused the porta-potty problem. We decided to pull into the lovely Northwest New Mexico Visitors Center parking lot to spend an hour or so, and it was this left turn off the access road that sent the p-p skidding across the cabin.) Ultimately, Kris just disconnected the wire leading to the right front speakers and this allowed us to hear the rest of the speakers. (Something about a common ground wire. Don't ask me.)

I was so glad to get out of New Mexico. I was very underwhelmed by this part of the country. It felt like we were driving through a derelict mobile home park. Not that you should judge an entire state based on what you see from the highway. But I did.

Found a lovely little RV park in Flagstaff to stop for the night. Main selling point: wireless Internet. Littlest and youngest again.

Nextel service restored along the IH-40 corridor. Road work started in Albuquerque and continued on-and-off all the way to Flagstaff.

Tue 12 July 2005
(Flagstaff :: Barstow :: Sierra Madre :: Pasadena :: Newbury Park/Thousand Oaks)
I am really confused by what time it is in Arizona. We crossed into Mountain Time when we entered New Mexico and I had to start subtracting an hour off the time on my watch. (I am not competent enough to reset the time.) But when we arrived at the very nice RV park late last night, I discovered that the state of Arizona doesn't recognize daylight savings time, so it was apparently two hours earlier than the time on my watch. I think. I woke up this morning thinking I had slept late, only to discover that it was 6:40 ante meridian. I think it is 8:15 now and I have wasted enough time and need to get on the road to L.A. By my calculations, we should get there about rush hour. Yippee!

People who live in California do not like Barstow. I called my friend Larry from Barstow. "Aah, Barstow, halfway to hell," was his response. Then I called my friend Cheryl from Barstow. "Aah, Barstow. I spent a week in Barstow one day," she said. We left Barstow at 3:30 p.m. We arrived at Cheryl's in Newbury Park at 8:30 p.m. The map said it was 120 miles. The map lied.

We did take a quick tour through the Sierra Madre/Pasadena area to show Kris where I used to live Way Back When. Not only did I find the exact address of my old apartment, I actually found my Aunt LaVerne and Uncle Harold's house in Sierra Madre that I only visited once when I was nine years old.

Wed 13 July 2005
(Newbury Park/Thousand Oaks :: Chatsworth :: Los Angeles :: Beverly Hills :: Century City)
Today was King Tut day. The extra money that we spent on VIP tickets was worth every penny -- no waiting in the Tut Tent for timed admission. And you got your own personal audio tour with Omar Shariff and his wonderful voice. You still have time to get tickets for L.A., Chicago, Fort Lauderdale or Philadelphia. Go.

After Tut Time, we ate dinner at The Stinking Rose in Beverly Hills. This is a restaurant that celebrates garlic. If you don't like garlic, do not eat here. They have garlic ice cream, but even the waiter did not recommend it. After dinner, we went to see "The Fantastic Four" at the Westfield AMC 14 Century City. None of us recommend it.

I think I saw Penelope Cruz driving an SUV down Wilshire Blvd.

The evening was spent hanging out in Larry and Diane's backyard by the pool, drinking margaritas and listening to the vintage Seeberg jukebox. La-La Land note: A production company is renting Larry and Diane's driveway on Friday to shoot a Domino's Pizza TV commercial.

Thu 14 July 2005
(Chatsworth :: Santa Barbara :: Buellton :: San Luis Obispo :: San Simeon)
Spent one last morning in L.A. area with L&D. Sent off with two bottles of wine from Lewis & Llewelyn Winery, so even if we really can't make it to any wineries for a tasting along the way, we can still pretend we did.

The elusive free wi-fi has been found! (2 Dogs Coffee Co. and Internet Cafe in San Luis Obispo, Calif.) Not a lot to say about today. Finally left the chaos of L.A. (two words: real estate prices and traffic) and made the drive up to SLO. Now here we sit drinking blended ice-y beverages and being nerds.

Now I have more to say about today. We have made a serious miscalculation about the ease of finding campgrounds. California state parks and state beaches are very popular and very crowded. I cannot overemphasize how crowded. I have never seen a state park in Texas, even a full-for-the-night park, that is this crowded. After pulling into three state parks (Morro Bay State Park, Montana de Oro State Park and Morro Strand State Beach), we finally found one that still had available camping spaces: San Simeon State Park. Although elated that we found a spot to sleep for the night, the accommodations were less than spectacular. For starters, we were in a spot across from the restrooms/showers/dumpster. The joy. And there must have been dozens of loud children. I love other people's kids, but not late at night in a campground when I've been driving all day. I want to commune with nature and my bottle of wine. Bathroom commentary: Nasty. So nasty neither of us "went" any more than we had to, and we both decided not to take showers Friday morning before departure. (This decision would later prove to be a poor one.)

Fri 15 July 2005
(Morro Bay :: Harmony :: San Simeon :: Point Piedras Negras :: Gordo Springs :: Big Sur)
Since we had to drive further north than we expected last night due to the derth of campsites, we backtracked to Morro Bay specifically to see Morro Rock. I was hoping to see the peregrine falcons that live there, but all I saw were your run-of-the-mill seagulls. But I did see a golden eagle sitting on a fence post later in the day, so I guess that was consolation enough.

Shortly after making a potentially wrong turn to get to Moonstone Beach, we found ourselves in front of a large sign that read "Seago Art Gallery." Of course we stopped. Sally Seago was the artist in question, and we engaged her in conversation for a few minutes. Seems Sally was married to a man whose last name was Seago and whose family was from Oklahoma. We assured her Kris was probably related to her husband and then we asked for directions to Moonstone Beach. It was directly across the road from her ocean-front gallery. She gave the beach rave reviews and wished us a good journey. We spent a while walking on the beach and picking through the little rocks to gather a lovely, but small, collection, which I promptly put into a Ziploc and stashed somewhere in the Eurovan. Hopefully I will remember where by the time we get back to Austin.

Driving into Harmony (population: 18, more or less), I believe we discovered The World's Most Unfriendly Winery with the most beautiful gardens. I'm glad I walked around the gardens first or I wouldn't have bothered after the way we were treated. (Sorry, Huy, I remembered the Harmony Pasta Factory after we pulled out of town.) Just at the bottom of the hill from the winery, we watched these large birds float effortlessly on air currents, gliding around until they landed in a large nearby field. At first, I thought they were California condors, but soon came to realize that the total number of birds in this field far exceeded the total number of condors in existence. Bummer. They turned out to be plain old turkey vultures, but they were still fun to watch.

Hearst Castle was much "homier" than I imagined, insofar as obscene wealth allows you to be "homier." We stopped to eat a late lunch in San Simeon at El Chorlito. Had some pretty decent tofu fajitas, an unexpected treat. Seated next to a woman who spent at least 10 minutes asking the waiter to explain the difference between an enchilada, a burrito and a quesadilla.

Made a quick stop at Point Piedras Negras to see the bull elephant seals molting on the beach. They are just big dogs that swim. I swear, it was like watching Trixie and Grayson sleep on the couch (beach) with their legs (flippers) sticking straight up in the air, while they shed their fur (no difference there). The seals even snored, blowing air out of the sides of their mouths, just like the dogs. We laughed and realized how much we missed our knuckleheads.

Began the most beautiful drive on Earth up the CA 1. Wow. There aren't words to describe the beauty of this area, so I won't even try.

Spotted the most gorgeous birds today: black heads with a top knot, blue iridescent feathers on backs and tails. They resemble a bird that was featured in a bizarre episode of "Six Feet Under" that aired the week before we left Austin.

Again, all campgrounds full. And I do mean full. After passing every state park on the way (full, full, full), we finally see the Big Sur Campgrounds and Cabins with an "available" sign. Hah-lay-loo-yah! So we pull in. They have one spot left: the "day use" area. Next to the playground. "Drive through," the guy says. "If you like it, park and walk back to the office to pay." So we drive through. This place is gorgeous. Redwoods, the crystal-clear Big Sur River. Need I go on? Despite the hundreds of screaming children that we see in the playground during our drive, we decide to stay. So we park. At exactly the same time that another small car containing two guys parks on the other side of the picnic table in the day use area. Guy #1 jumps out and makes a bee-line for the office. Guy #2 gets out and glares at us. Trouble. When we arrive at the office and ask to pay for the spot we were directed to, Guy #1 is already there conducting a cash transaction for the site. Seems the two "greeters" at the entrance directed both of us to the same site. Oops! But instead of acknowledging their mistake, we are sent on our way with a suggestion to ask at the state parks about something called "en route camping."

So we go to the ranger station at Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park and of course the campground is full, so we do as suggested and inquire about en route camping. It seems the intent of en route camping is to give self-contained campers a place to park just for the night if the campgrounds are full. The state's definition of "self-contained" is that you must have a bathroom and a shower in the RV. Which we don't. Except for the porta-potty (reference earlier story). But I guess we looked pathetic enough because both the rangers in the little booth agreed to allow us to "camp" in one of the parking lots for the night provided we didn't use the park's bathrooms or showers. But we still had to pay the full camping fee just like we had access to the bathrooms and showers. Huh? So essentially, my two options at this point are (1) don't pee all night until I can pay the day use fee at 9 a.m. tomorrow morning so I can have access to bathrooms, or (2) pee on a redwood.

I chose option 2 and we spent the night in a parking lot next to a softball field (an odd thing to find in a state park in Big Sur), but literally in the shadow of the Colonial Tree, the oldest/largest redwood in this park. This is the best night's sleep we have gotten so far because we were so isolated from the crowds. And I am learning that showers are overrated.

I should mention at this point that the California state park system uses the term "developed" campsite to mean only a cleared space with community restrooms but not necessarily showers. (And the showers are coin-operated.) There are only electric and water "hook-up" campsites at a handful of state parks. This is putting a teeny crimp in the necessity of charging laptops, cell phones, camera batteries, Sonicare toothbrushes, etc.

Sat 16 July 2005
(Big Sur :: Carmel :: Pebble Beach :: Santa Cruz :: Felton)
I think I have been wearing the same shirt since Thursday. (I can't be sure about that, but I am sure the last shower I had was Thursday at Larry and Diane's.) We decided to eat breakfast at Big Sur Lodge on the deck overlooking the Big Sur River. The scenery was spectacular, but the food was only average and the prices were typically overpriced Californian. We were stalked by those pretty birds who spied on us all through breakfast. I suspect they are some sort of jays because the males seem territorial and are very vocal. After breakfast, we decided to hike to Pfeiffer Falls, a relatively quick jaunt. Or so I thought until we learned that the "easy" trail was closed due to an 800-year-old redwood which recently fell across the hiking trail. How dare! After a three-mile round trip that was mostly uphill, I decide I need to spend more time on the elliptical trainer. But as most everything we have experienced so far, it was worth the effort.

Steller's Jay! I discovered the name of my gorgeous bird friends in a guide to Northern California birds in the lodge gift shop.

We backtrack a little bit to Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park and take a truly easy hike of 1/4 mile out to the McWay Falls Overlook. Unbelievable. There is the foundation of an old house up here. It is hard for me to imagine regular folk living along this coastline, since most of the houses you see are so grand. But there are some exceptions to the grandeur. People live all along the CA 1, and some of these houses are shit holes. I do not jest. They look like hovels. Hovels with indescribable views. It is unfathomable to think what property values are here, despite the condition of the improvements. The value is all in the location, location, location.

Driving along this part of the California coast is very surreal, because the scenery is so spectacular that is doesn't look real. (Was that redundant?) Perhaps this is because these images are in our collective memory -- we're all familiar with these views through movies, books and TV commercials. You can pretend you're in a car commercial at every hairpin turn.

North of Big Sur gets even lovlier if that's possible. The landscape changes slightly: more dunes and colorful vegetation. I only thought I crossed the Bixby Bridge yesterday. So what did I cross? There are many lovely bridges along the CA 1 built in 1932. (Tip for travelers: public beach access improves north of Big Sur. You can park at turnouts along the way and hike down to the beach.) We certainly got our money's worth on this drive. The entire three-week trip was worth these two days. We make future plans to spend a future vacation solely in the Big Sur area. Easily done.

Do not bother with paying the $8.50 for the 17 Mile Drive unless you like to look at rich people's houses. The coastline portion of the drive was spectacular, despite the fact that it has been co-opted by a golf course. The Lone Cypress was cool, but there's a warning sign that it is a copyrighted symbol and not to be used by anyone else, blah blah blah. Sad. We did stop at the Pebble Beach Golf Shop for souvenirs only because I love my father so much.

Continuing on to Santa Cruz, we again found all state parks and beaches, incuding New Brighton State Beach, to be full. Consulting the trusty Trailer Life Directory, we found two RV parks in the redwoods in Felton and headed there. Our first stop at the Cotillion Gardens RV Park was a bust; we were turned away because the Eurovan was too small. Honestly, I think the woman at the office didn't like Kris' looks; she gave him the hairy eyeball from the minute he stepped out of the van. Next door at the Smithwoods RV Park (run by the nice couple in the office, The Smiths, I presume?) we were welcomed and even guided to our entirely adequate campsite by a golf cart driven by Mr. Smith. This stop also continued the trend of littlest and youngest. (And I should add that we were this RV stop away from calling Judy in Los Gatos and asking to crash at her place. Count your blessings, Judy.)

Observation: Since leaving L.A., we have been shocked at the lack of businesses that do not accept credit cards. This is a big problem for those of us who do not carry cash. Thank goodness I brought my checkbook with me, as so far accepting an out-of-state check seems preferable to accepting credit cards. Go figure.

Mileage to date: 2217 miles. Nextel service OK, even if that annoying woman's voice did suggest that my password was invalid.

Sun 17 July 2005
(Felton :: Santa Cruz :: Sebastopol :: Guerneville)
Stopped in the lovely and veggie-friendly town of Felton for some grocery shopping at the New Leaf Market. Just like Wheatsville, only newer and larger. And slightly more expensive. Walked across the street to The White Raven coffee shop for breakfast and some free wi-fi before continuing our journey. (Judy, this is when we discovered your AIM away message that said you were in Carmel. I guess we passed on the highway.)

The traffic was so bad in Santa Cruz that we only made one stop before leaving town: the Seabright Brewery. Had the West Coast Wheat and a Boca Burger. Yum.

Armstrong Redwoods State Reserve, Bullfrog Pond Campground. Ohmigod. A 3.5-mile drive up the narrowest, windiest, steepest, two-way one-lane road I have ever driven, to one of the most incredible places on Earth. No electricity, but a pay phone. No showers, only toilets. Cold water only. And it was amazing. And serendipitous. Come to find out later when I called to check in with Cousin Robert, he lived for a week at this same campground while he looked for a place to live in Guerneville his freshman year of college at nearby Sonoma State. It remains one of his favorite places.

Have I mentioned that we're pretty sure the Eurovan will need new brakes when we get back to Texas?

Mon 18 July 2005
(Guerneville :: Santa Rosa :: Boonville :: Fort Bragg)
Not a lot of ground covered today, but I got to spend some quality time with family I had never met before. We stopped in Santa Rosa to spend part of the day with Goehring cousins Mel and Bobbe Schefer. Mel's grandmother (Bertha/Betty) and my grandfather (John Frederick) were brother and sister, so I think that makes Mel and I second cousins. (I'm not too good with the cousin heirarchy.) Anyway, Betty left Texas as a child and after she and Grandad died, the families didn't keep in good touch for some reason. Bobbe and I met online a couple of years ago, and so when I realized we would be going so near their house, I made arrangements to spend the better part of the day with she and Mel. We had a wonderful visit getting to know each other and Bobbe made us a great veggie lunch with fresh veggies out of their garden, fresh fruit, cottage cheese and bread. Yummy!

Our original plan was to make it to Orick tonight to a campground called Gold Bluffs Beach in Prairie Creek State Park, but we determined early on that was too ambitious a destination and headed instead for the Mendocino/Fort Bragg area only to discover (say it with me) that all the state park campgrounds in the area were full. So here we are again in an RV park, albeit one with wireless Internet access. It is across the CA 1 from the ocean, small consolation since I cannot see the ocean or hear the ocean. Tomorrow: Orick or bust!

Tue 19 July 2005
(Fort Bragg :: Inglenook :: Leggett :: Orick :: Del Norte County)
Well, we made it to Orick easily today, only to find the beautiful campground at Gold Bluffs Beach in Prairie Creek State Park to be, what else, full. (This is the campground that Cousin Robert highly recommended as one of the most beautiful places on Earth. And he was right, too. At least Ranger Alex at the entry point let us drive through the park without paying a day use fee even though there was no camping room.) [Note about the drive today: The Eel River that runs along the 101 from Leggett to Fortuna was a sight worth seeing.]

We headed north from there and finally found a vacancy at Mill Creek Campground in the Del Norte Coast Redwoods State Park. This turned out not to be a consolation spot as this campground was one of the best we have ever been in. The site was logged in the 1920s and was turned into a campground decades later with great thought given to the location of each campsite. Each site was private and unique and lovely, situated under the second-growth redwoods which are large and tall but not nearly as large and tall as the stumps of some of the old-growth trees you can still see at the site that were cut down over 80 years ago. We made a lovely dinner of hummus and tabouli, drank some great beer we had purchased the day before at Anderson Valley Brewing Co. (Brother David's Double Abbey Style Ale to be exact), built a roaring campfire and watched an almost full moon rise over the redwoods.

Wed 20 July 2005
(Del Norte Coast Redwoods SP :: Eugene :: Civic Stadium)
Arrived at Cousin Robert's in Eugene this afternoon (3001 miles on the trip-o-meter) after a scenic drive through Six Rivers National Forest and Smith River National Recreation Area on U.S. Hwy. 199 then a straight shot up IH-5. [Note to self: Put both these areas on Future Places to Visit list.] Robert lives just outside of Eugene in Junction City in a 1920s farmhouse located between a hazelnut farm and a Christmas tree farm. Upon arriving, we all grabbed a beer and took a stroll through the hazelnut orchard to shake off the road jitters. I think it was successful.

Tonight we went to the local minor league ballpark to watch a matchup between the local Eugene Emeralds (Go Ems!) and the Boise Hawks. Civic Stadium looks just like it did when it was built in the 1930s (only a few rows of box seats have been added) and feels like you've been transported to the set of "Bull Durham." The scoreboard in right field is old school, where numbers are changed out by kids and balls, strikes and outs are noted by light bulbs. Awesome. And the beer guys hawk local microbrews like Steelhead, not crap beer like Bud. Robert's box seats are in the third row just past first base with a great view of all the action.

Just taking in a ballgame there would have been special all on its own, but this evening's game was more personalized, because Seth Johnston, Texas' most recent shortstop, member of the 2005 national championship team and recent San Diego Padres draftee, was sent to Eugene by the Padres to finish out the season. Although not in the starting lineup, Seth (#7 for Eugene) was sent in to pinch hit in the seventh inning, but struck out on a check swing. Bummer.

But do not despair. Returning in the ninth to pinch hit, Seth singled to center field, putting the winning run on first base. After advancing to third on a sacrifice and another single, #14 ripped a single into right field and Seth crossed home plate to score the winning run. Ems win, Ems win! Unfortunately, the player of the game award was given to #14 for his game-winning RBI. He was presented a coupon for a free sandwich from a local sub shop. The crowd roared with adulation. And the full moon rose over right field.

Thu 21 July 2005
(Eugene :: University of Oregon)
Today we went on a tour of the city of Eugene, courtesy of Cousin Robert. Our day began with a stop at the North Bank Brewing Co. on the (duh) north bank of the Willamette River. From there we moved on to the University of Oregon and what became essentially a tour of the Ducks athletics facilities. Although we had planned a stop at Autzen Stadium, on a whim Robert asked at the main desk if it were possible to have a tour of the stadium. After a few minutes, we were being escorted on a personal tour of the football facilities by Mandy, a very informative sports business major. First stop, the weight room which was full of football players sweating away. Second stop, just outside the locker room and stadium gates, then the entrance tunnel to the field that the team uses on game day. Third stop, the freaking field! We suddenly found ourselves walking out onto the playing surface. This was very cool. Robert asked if he could walk up to his new season ticket location and the answer was -- yes! Remarkable. Fourth stop, the indoor practice facility, where more individual workouts were taking place. Fifth stop, the newly renovated practice fields, also home to the women's soccer and lacrosse teams. We said goodbye to Mandy at this point, did a little shopping at the Duck Shop, then moved on to the main campus.

While walking by McArthur Court, we noticed the doors open, so of course we entered. There was a summer camp going on, so no one seemed to mind that we went on our own self-guided tour of the basketball facility. What a wonderful old arena. There is talk of building a new facility for Oregon basketball, and while I see the need for it, it would also be a shame to move it out of this historic facility.

From there, we walked down the hill to the place where it all happened -- Hayward Field. Need I say more? If you follow track at all, the answer is no, I needn't. There has been the recent addition of a grand entrance gate with a history of Oregon track display, and in the 1980s a larger grandstand was built. But other than that, it looked very original.

(A sad note for all "Animal House" fans: The Sigma Nu fraternity house no longer stands. Its exterior was used as the facade of the Tri Pi sorority and its interior was Delta House. But we did see the administration building where Bluto rode the white horse up the steps.)

A quick walk through the old geology building to see where Robert spent most of his life as a graduate student and a tour past the two original buildings that were U of O, and we were off to Rennie's Landing, a quality joint with good pub and grub. After this, we took a drive up to Skinner Butte which provides a great view of the entire town. Some light rain shooed us away and back into town to Steelhead Brewing Co. Now we're back at the nut farm for some serious relaxing.

[Footnote: We had an amazing night weather-wise. An honest-to-goodness thunderstorm blew up -- apparently a rarity in Eugene -- complete with over 1,500 lightning strikes in the Eugene area, including one within feet of the van. I cannot describe how loud this was, or the instantaneous concussion that literally rocked the van. Wowsa.]

Fri 22 July 2005
(Eugene :: Noti :: Florence :: Heceta Head :: Carl G. Washburne Memorial State Park)
Cousin Robert took us to see a bit of Oregon's rugged coastline today. But on the way there we took the time to do a little ancestor hunting. Just before we left Texas, we discovered that Kris' maternal grandfather was buried in a little cemetery in Noti, Oregon. Noti just happened to be on the highway to the beach, so not even knowing where this cemetery was located, we managed to find not only the cemetery, but his grandfather's grave, in short time. Pretty lucky considering it was a rural cemetery with no sign.

When we arrived in Florence, the entire coastal area was shrouded in fog. At the Heceta Head Lighthouse, we were lucky enough to take a tour headed by Art, a knowledgeable volunteer guide. You will probably recognize this lighthouse (if I ever post any photo galleries) as it is rumored to be the most photographed lighthouse on the Pacific Coast. As it turned out, by the time we got to the top of the lighthouse, the fog had lifted, so we were able to see just why the lighthouse is so widely photographed. What a location and what a view!

After Heceta Head, we drove north just a few miles to the Washburne State Park and its amazing beach. The fog hadn't lifted up here, so it was kinda creepy to walk on a completely fog-covered beach. We just hung out for a while on the beach and had some snacks. Cousin Robert said this was unusual weather for July in Oregon: foggy, warm and not windy. Enjoyable, nonetheless.

Digression: After many beer tastings in Eugene, we have decided that "hefeweisen" in Oregonian means "beer without taste." This is a stunning revelation to us, because hefeweisen should have a strong taste and smell -- hints of banana, clove and coriander. My first hefeweisen at Civic Stadium tasted so much like Bud Light that I was convinced Beer Sales Guy handed me a Bud Light by mistake. But when I ordered same hefeweisen later at a brewpub, it still tasted like a Bud Light. Perhaps Central Texans have just been spoiled by Celis. Goodness, even Shiner brews a hefeweisen with more taste than these Oregon hefe's.

Sat 23 July 2005
(Eugene :: IH-5 South :: Weed/Mt. Shasta :: Lassen National Forest)
We departed Eugene and Cousin Robert today and started the last leg of our lovely vacation. Today was a driving day, so there weren't many sights to see except gas stations and highway rest areas. An intersting tidbit about Oregon: It is illegal to pump your own gas in the state. So even at large convenience store/gas stations, there are attendants to pump your gas. But it's not exactly full service. You still have to swipe your own credit card, wash your own windshields and check under your own hood, but no touching that pump!

Back in California, it was status quo at the state parks: full as usual. Pulled into Burney Falls State Park (which came highly recommended by Cousin Robert) only to be confronted by the all-too-familiar "Campground Full" sign. Ranger Daniel recommended a private campground at nearby Lake Britton. Since it was only about a 1/4 mile down the road we drove through it, but it also was full. Too bad, since there was a railroad trestle that ran next to the campground and over the lake. When Kris and I saw that on the drive into the campground, we immediately made plans to run out onto it naked in the middle of the night under the full moon.* Unfortunately, those plans were thwarted because there were no available campsites.

The next campground we found turned out to be the perfect spot for us. Honn Campground -- six camping spots with four open, a clear running stream, and huge pine trees in Lassen National Forest. No electricty, no water, no flush toilets, no problem. We are camped for the night. When the sun goes down, it is d-a-r-k, except for the headlights of the few passing cars on the nearby highway. If you look straight up through the treetops, the stars are spectacularly bright. Not much light pollution in the area. Nothing to do here except eat some dinner, drink some wine, watch the full moon rise and go to bed. Perfect.

*Just kidding.

Sun 24 July 2005
(Honn Campground, Lassen National Forest :: Mammoth Lakes :: Coldwater Campground, Inyo National Forest)
Bliss. I am sitting here in my camp chair next to Hat Creek under the pine trees, listening to the water pour over the rocks and under the nearby footbridge. There's a noisy bird in a tree across the creek of which I catch the occassional glimpse, but he's elusive. Two dragonflies just landed in a sunny spot on the water. A fish just surfaced to catch a bug. There is a bee near my foot that I wish would go away. Other than the random whiff from the pit toilets, I could sit here all day. But alas we must continue south, closer to home and the unfortunate end of our holiday.

The only scenic stop we made today was at an overlook of Mono Lake. I am running out of adjectives to describe the scenery we encounter daily. A simple "wow" will have to suffice for now.

We have perhaps arrived in a part of the United States that most closely resembles nirvana. The scenery is just so beautiful here that words cannot do it justice. After an unforgettable drive through or beside so many national forests that I lost count, we arrived at Mammoth Lakes and finally found campgrounds that actually had spaces available. But these are national forest campgrounds, not California state park campgrounds. National forest campgrounds are generally more beautiful but lacking in the finer amenities such as electricity, water, flush toilets and showers. State park campgrounds may have water, flush toilets and showers, but they more usually resemble parking lots, although there are some exceptions. But I digress.

The campground we chose is Coldwater Campground near Lake Mary in Inyo National Forest. We have a semi-private campsite with no possibility of neighbors on one side, a walking trail to the restrooms (which have flush toilets, a sink and mirror!), and a slightly-louder-than-babbling brook (Coldwater Creek, I assume) just across the road. Tonight we are sitting by another roaring campfire courtesy of Og (aka Kris). [Note: I am writing as I sit by the campfire, but I can barely see my keyboard.] As the sun sets right now, it is starting to get zip-up cold. We're unsure of our exact elevation but we estimate it to be 6000-8000 feet, as the peaks that surround us are 10-11,000 feet. The sky turns from gold to baby blue and the stars are starting to show themselves.

We're looking forward to the next couple days as this is the first time on this trip we have stayed in a single campground for more than one night. (The stop at Cousin Robert's in Eugene was an exception, but it also wasn't a campground per se, despite the fact that we slept in the van under a stand of trees behind his house.)

Tomorrow we think we will find pay showers (!) and prowl around the little town of Mammoth Lakes. We have already found a free wi-fi spot for breakfast, and there is one brewpub, another bar that touts "microbrewed beer and wine," and another than advertises "over 100 beers." Looks like our path is clear. We also plan on backtracking over the next couple days to Yosemite National Park and Devil's Postpile National Monument in the Ansel Adams Wilderness. We won't get to see the main part of Yosemite as we are at the eastern entrance, but we want to see what we can of this national treasure.

It is so dark now that I am typing by touch, which will shortly expose what a horrible typist I really am. Until tomorrow.

Mon 25 July 2005
(Mammoth Lakes)
Big excitement in camp yesterday. A guy drove by in a truck to tell us that a little black bear was headed our way. Bears are serious business around here -- "A fed bear is a dead bear." But the little fellow never did show up, which was probably a good thing.

National parks and forests are scary places. So far I have seen warning signs posted for ticks, West Nile virus, plague and hantavirus, not to mention bear attacks and criminal activity. If you can put all these bad things out of your mind while you are visiting, you'll have a great time!

Today we just meandered around town, and what a cute town it is. Every place of business we went into had a 1970s-themed XM Satellite radio station playing. We heard two Yes songs yesterday in a span of about two hours. When is the last time that you heard two Yes songs, period? Prices here are very, well, pricey. I had a very average Gardenburger and oversalted curly fries for lunch yesterday which cost $8.75. Ouch. For dinner last night, we ordered a grilled portobella sandwich for $10.50. It's fungus, for goodness' sake. But in all fairness, I must add that this was a spectacular sandwich. Kudos to the chef.

Dinner was at Mammoth Brewing Co. so Kris sampled some more microbrews. He says they were some of the best yet on the trip. The hefeweisen actually had flavor but this hardly counts in our quest, because we're in California and not Oregon any longer. We also sampled one of the brewer's whims, the Chili Chocolate Charleywine. Wowsa! At 10% alcohol, we only had a tasting glass, but it was awesome. Just before we left, a lot of locals came in and set down at the bar. My guess was they were professional snowboarders, based on their clothing and tattoos and the fact that they ordered Coronas and Buds in a brewpub.

We also took two hikes today -- one short, the other longer and more challenging. The short hike was to an abandoned gold mine near our campground. The mine was operational for the last time in 1933, but a lot of the old buildings and equipment are still there in various state of decay.

The longer hike was up to Emerald Lake which took us out of Inyo National Forest and into the John Muir Wilderness. This was about two miles round trip, the first mile essentially uphill, but of course downhill on the way back to camp. Most of the trail was next to Coldwater Creek under a canopy of pine trees and with a view of much larger mountain peaks in the distance. The only downside was we forgot our bug spray so we fought mosquitoes the entire time. We're pretty sure we caught West Nile virus. We also saw a plague-carrying chipmunk and Kris caught a glimpse of a large ferrett-looking creature, but we're pretty sure it had hantavirus, so we kept our distance.

The tripometer reached 3700 miles yesterday as we returned to camp. We were so tired after hiking, dinner, and drinks, that we went went to bed around 9:30 p.m., just as the stars came out.

Tue 26 July 2005
(Mammoth Lakes :: Yosemite National Park)
Once again I find myself in Stellar Brew, a local coffee shop with free wi-fi access. We have paid $5 to use the public showers at the friendly RV park, and have stopped to get our caffeine and Internet fixes before driving up to Yosemite National Park. I also fixed the problem with the lone photo gallery I have posted so far, so if you looked at it before and noticed how bad it looked, give it another try.

Because Yosemite is so crowded in the summer and we entered via the eastern entrance at Tioga Pass, we decided to stick to the east side of the park and not fight crowds all the way to Yosemite Village. In retrospect, this was a good decision because after one brief stop at the Tuolumne Meadows visitor center I was ready to commit murder on as many tourists as possible. But I digress...

Let me back up just a sec. The drive up Tioga Pass to the park was as beautiful as the park itself. There were lakes and snow and eagles and rock slides and rivers and lots of other cool stuff.

Our first stop was a scenic overlook at Olmstead Point. Ranger Mark at the visitor center told us that you could see Half Dome from there. I have to say I saw a dome in that general direction, but I can't be certain if it was Half Dome or North Dome. I'll just have to be content that it was Half Dome until I'm sure it wasn't. During this stop, we followed a short trail away from the crowds to an even more scenic location where we could just sit alone for a while and take in the scenery. A few yards away we noticed four people arguing about where the trail back to the parking lot was. We found this particularly amusing and were making fun of them. As we started back to the trail, weren't we surprised to encounter these same people pop up over a rock and ask us "Say, do you know where the trail is?" We told them to follow us. Jeez, how hard can following a trail be?

Our next stop was Pothole Dome, a hike also recommended by Ranger Mark. This started out as a pleasant walk at the base of the dome on the edge of the Tuolumne Meadows. All signs indicated that the trail would lead to a "short scamper up the mountain." So we followed this trail, and followed this trail, and followed this trail some more, and found no trail up the mountain, so we made our own. After having no freaking idea where we were for about 30 minutes, we finally spotted some other people near the top of the dome. And then more people. And more people. All coming up the opposite side of the dome that we had hiked up. After getting our bearings, we determined that we had initially hiked all the way to the back side of the dome, then over the entire length of the dome to the summit. This instead of walking the short little trail and then just "scampering" up the front side of the dome as all the signs had said. And this illustrates why you shouldn't make fun of people who lose the trail at Olmstead Point. Karma is real.

We were exhausted after this excursion (not to mention sunburned after being lost on top of a rock for two hours) so we headed back to Mammoth Lakes to a beer bar we had heard about -- the Clocktower Cellar. It was as decribed: a beer bar only, lots of taps (mostly good beer), some bottles, no wine and no food. A couple foosball tables and a Ms. PacMan game. And a CD jukebox full of speed metal selections only. Other than the bartender, we had the place to ourselves. This place rivaled the heavy metal Irish bar in the French Quarter for the singlest strangest place we have ventured for good beer.

Back to camp for yet another bear alert. This bear was only a few campsites away, but we couldn't see it because of the topography of the campground. But we did hear all the commotion (car horns honking, hollering at the bear).

Also back in camp we dicovered our quiet stoned fishermen neighbors had left camp, and in their stead had appeared an enormous RV complete with generator and three obnoxious boys. Oh god. One of the boys was hitting a baseball with an aluminum bat into the pine trees and knocking down limbs. Oh, did I mention this was in our campsite? Next up, two of the boys grabbed said limbs and stuck them into the campfire, turning them into torches and then running around the campground with them? Oh, did I mention that the fire alert for the past few days has either been "high" or "extreme"? Topping off the evening was dad firing up the generator at dusk, sending its exhaust directly at us while we were sitting next to our campfire. After a loud expletive which shall not be repeated here was shouted by Yours Truly at no one in particular, the generator went off. And stayed off. And the stars came out right on schedule.

Wed 27 July 2005
(Mammoth Lakes)
We left Coldwater Campground this morning but not before (1) having a bear within a few yards of our campsite and (2) watching the Campers From Hell pour frying pan grease into the drain at the base of the shared water spigot between our campsite. Hello!? Remember the bear that was here 10 minutes ago? These people define stupid.

Here I am again in Stellar Brew, having a large chai. Why I'm not sure, since there is no A/C in this place and I am sweating like a pig. But it sure is tasty. We are about to leave for another campground in the southern part of Inyo National Forest, hopefully at the Ancient Bristelcone Pine Forest. I expect not to have Internet access until we are on the road for home, so this may be my last entry for a few days. Enjoy.

-----
Well, the best laid plans and all that crap. We are back in Mammoth Lakes, albeit this time in the Mammoth Mountain RV Park. Nothing went wrong, we just ended up having more fun today in and near Mammoth Lakes than anticipated, so we decided to stay one more night. But we really needed showers, to do laundry, and to charge all the geek gear, so we opted for the "luxury" of the local RV park.

Our only true scheduled stop of the day was at Devils Postpile National Monument. This was quite a remarkable site: a relatively recent geological formation of basalt lava columns, vertical and hexagonal in shape. Sounds dull, but really cool. You can take an extended hike on top of the Postpile where you can see a cross section of the columns that look like floor tiles. Nature's home furnishings.

You can only get to the Postpile in the summer by taking a shuttle bus from a place called Mammoth Mountain. Mammoth Mountain is, well, a real mountain, but it is also the "Adventure Center" during the summer, not to mention Mammoth Moutain Bike Park. (As opposed to Mammoth Moutain Ski Area in the winter.) A bit of a tourist trap (which I generally hate), this place was a mix of X-Games meets Rush HD. We dug it. It was a bit late in the afternoon, but had it been a little earlier, we could have taken our pick of an hour on the rock climbing wall, mountain bike lessons, or the "Climb and Zip." We opted instead to ride the scenic gondola to the summit of Mammoth Mountain, elevation 11,053 feet. I nearly crapped my britches. I think the view was spectacular, but my fear of heights coupled with the rather windy conditions sent my anxiety level to an all-time high. It didn't help that on the ride up Kris kept saying, "Is that cable frayed?" Ass----.

We capped the night off with pizza at John's Pizza Works, then a trip upstairs to Tap, A Local Saloon, where the beertender had on a pop-art skirt featuring The Sex Pistols and a local musician came in and sang on the same little stage where we were relaxing on the couch. (This bar also had XM Satellite Station 46 playing. All 70s, all the time. This town is like a time warp.)

So now the plans are to head to the ancient bristlecones tomorrow, then in the direction of home on Friday.

Thu 28 July 2005
(Mammoth Lakes :: Bishop :: Big Pine :: Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest)
Mutant moths! While the RV park had no mosquitoes or flies, it did have the most enormous moths I have ever seen. These things were the size of hummingbirds, but slow and stupid. They were stuck all over the pop-up tent this morning so we had to dislodge them with sticks before we could pull the top shut.

This afternoon we visited one of the more remarkable places on Earth: the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest. Why is this place so remarkable, you ask? For starters, many of these trees are 4,000 years old and still alive. These trees are older than the Egyptian pyramids. They are older than writing. And they have played an important, yet quiet, role in the science of radiocarbon dating. This is more complicated than I can explain here, but suffice it to say that these trees are quite remarkable on many levels. Add this to your Places I Should Visit list.

Tonight we are at a campground called Grandview, about five miles south of the bristlecones, at an elevation of approximately 10,000 feet. (This is barely a developed campsite. The only amenity as it were are the vault toilets. No water, no electricity, no phones, no cell service, no paved roads. And hardly any people. Just the way we like it.) We have seen no less than seven separate rainbows and watched a lovely sunset. The stars and moon would probably be lovely if we could see them, but the skies are overcast. It is raining off and on as it has all day. But that makes a soft little noise against the van and it will soon lull me to sleep. It is 9 p.m. and I am exhausted. (Postscript: I woke up at 2:30 a.m. and the clouds were partly cleared. The stars and moon were indeed lovely.)

Tomorrow we start the journey back to reality. We've been talking the last few days about what we would do differently on this trip if we could do it over again. Not much, but a few improvements are in order:

1. Stay in one place for more than one day. Do the entire trip more like we did the last few days in Mammoth Lakes. Use one campsite as home base and take day trips from that location.
2. Buy hiking boots. We love our New Balance shoes, but hiking boots they ain't.
3. Realize that posting photo galleries on vacation is not realistic when you don't have electricity on a consistent basis. Or that you simply won't have the time or energy.
4. Buy backpacks. Duh.
5. Leave the porta-potty at home. Pointless.
6. Fix the antenna before leaving home so you can pick up bad radio when you need it. Or maybe buy XM Satellite Radio so you too can listen to Station 46 no matter where you go.

Fri 29 July 2005
(Grandview Campground :: Big Pine :: Flagstaff)
Upon awaking, we dubbed today "Reality Day." No more fun stops, just a long drive back home to reality. We just arrived in Flagstaff after 10 hours on the road. Nothing too eventful other than driving through some thunderstorms with terrifying strong winds that knocked the van around like it weighed nothing. I was driving and I was not amused.

For your enjoyment, a collection of roadsigns we have passed on our journey:
Mixed Drinks, 100 Yards
Weird Plants, Unusual Succulants
See Horny Toads Inside
Drive Thru Service for Handicapped Only (on liquor store)
Knubbin Rd.
UFO Crash Site
Zero Visibility Possible
No Fake Discounts
Ride the Rabbit
Devil Dog Rd. (Why is there a road named after Trixie in Arizona?)
Nitt Witt Ridge
Coldest Beer in Town Consistently
The Stone Elephant: Mastadon Museum & Winery
Road Flooded During Storm (Is this past tense, or an advisory?)

Sat 30 July 2005
(Flagstaff :: Big Spring)
Drive, drive, drive and drive some more. We decided to drive as far as we could today and we made it as far as Big Spring. Decided to treat ourselves to a hotel since it was midnight when we stopped driving and we didn't feel like hassling with a campground or RV park. We found a Holiday Inn Express which turned out to be both unbelievably nice and inexpensive, ate a lot of food, watched a lot of TV and slept in a real bed for the first time in three weeks.

Sun 31 July 2005
(Big Spring :: Austin)
Passed the Big Spring Brewery on the way out of town. Closed again, but it is Sunday again. Drive, drive, drive and drive some more, but this time ending up back at home in Austin.

June 2006
(Epilogue)
I am embarrased to say that I have only now added all the photo galleries from the 2005 vacation. Even worse, I only now had prints made of all the photos.