South to North

I just realized that my last post was the 100th since I started 'A Little Slice of da Harbor' at this blog spot. If you are one of the luckiest people in the world, you have read all 100! Thank you so much! If you haven't yet, get crackin. : p

Phoenix Area

On Saturday we traded the poshness of Sedona for the 60 degrees of Phoenix, well Mesa, technically. My heart was set on an afternoon of sunbathing at our campsite. All we had to do was find a campsite. None here. (20 miles later.) None here... there's got to be one by this lake. Nope. Okay, how about here? Good gracious! Where is a place to camp?

After driving for two extra hours, we asked a host at a National Park lot where we could pitch a tent. 45 minutes after that, we were finally parked at a campground. Since the sun was going to set in an hour and a half, my dream of a suntan (or sunburn) was long gone. At least I got some sun through the car window on the way....

Camping was peaceful. I was awake a bit during the night, so I got to watch the moon pass through the sky and Orion ascend overhead. The skies were supposed to be clear, so we skipped the rainfly on the tent. As Murphy's Law would have it, it rained all morning. We waited in our sleeping bags for a break in the drops as we slowly got leaked on from the nylon above.

So much for Phoenix. We weren't even going to try to go for a bike ride. We snapped our pictures with some saguaros and drove north -- where we entered snow-and-ice-on-the-road land. At least the trip wasn't monotonous! Here is Duce and me with a couple big saguaros. Arizona trees, baby!

Southern Colorado

After passing cars in the ditch and driving an average of 15 mph in a long line of cars, we spent the blizzard of a night in Cortez, CO... our 12th state of the trip (we passed through New Mexico on our way up to Colorado). In the morning, we made our way to Durango to see our yooper friends who moved west.

Goodbye summer and hello winter! On Monday Barb, Ryan, Aaron, Duce, Teva and I hiked in 3-4 inches of snow up the Telegraph trails. The nostalgic part about this was that we biked those trails three Octobers ago. I vaguely recognized my surroundings, but it slowly came back to me. Everything looks different when its covered in snow, you know?

That was a perfect hike in the sunshine. We got a sweat on but didn't have to work too hard. Today was a different story.

You know, I keep realizing, more and more on this trip, that I keep getting physically and mentally tested. Most of the adventures I've had have been really trying on me. I rarely make it through a whole escapade without thinking, Cripes, why am I doing this to myself? I don't think I'm going to make it. Whimper, whimper.

This back country snowboard adventure for me was a tough one. Aaron and Barb skinned up the hill (skiing uphill with sticky stuff on the bottom of their skis, so they don't slip back). Ryan hiked up in boots using his snowboard as a pole. I snowshoed with a backpack and my board strapped on the back.

Oh, let me say that we started this climb at an elevation of 10,640 feet. Um, can I get a little oxygen, please? Yes, I could, when I stopped every five clumsy steps to catch my breath. I climbed part of that hill on my hands and knees. Their ski trail they packed was 2/3 the size of a trail I needed to keep my outside snowshoe from sliding down the hill.

After a while, I found myself walking zombie-style, with my hands out in front of me for balance and acceleration. Good thing everyone else was way ahead, or they might think I'm a little weird.

Two hours and two rubbery thighs later, we reached the top-enough where we were to ride down. My fingers were so cold that I almost wussed out of taking a picture, but I though of you, and got one. That's Ryan in the brown and Barb back in the green. You have to really look closely.

The powder was thick and soft. If I had the strength and the wits to ride my board down skillfully, the trek up would have been worth it. I struggled with my turns and balance. But alas, I surfed down the snowy slopes with a smile for at least part of it. They want me to go again tomorrow. Oy. We'll see....

Adventures in Sedona

Our real adventures in Sedona started Thursday. We started with a hike around some of the great rock structures, so Duce could get some exercise. Avoiding the cacti and other prickly brush, we found our way to the bottom of Courthouse Rock. I have the little cubby hole eyed up as a nice place to sit and rest in.

In the picture below, it’s 4/5 of the way across toward the right. See those two shady vertical lines toward the top? It’s the one on the left. The rounded out spot is the one I picked out to sit in some day. Just because. However, I never expected to really ever be up there.

At the base, I gave the climb a try. I made it up a couple rocky spots. Before I knew it, I had a foot in a dent in the stone and my left hand gripped around a flake of face rock. As I threw my right hand up into an iffy spot, I hoisted my weight up. That flake of face rock broke off in my hand, and my bottom foot plummeted back to the rocks below. Okay. Guess that wasn’t my rock to climb, and nowhere else in sight looked feasible. At least I tried!

Later that day, we went for a bike ride. Do you want to know what I saw on our way to the single track? People up on Bell Rock. Walking around! I’m going up there tomorrow, I promised myself. That is my rock to climb.

The ride that afternoon was really pretty fun. The single track on most trails seemed like it was made for mountain biking. The trails were smooth with some rocky technical spots. A nice challenge without all the climbing -- or cliffs -- just body-sized cacti waiting to catch someone who misses their sharp turn. Luckily I only had to pick one spine out of me (the rest stayed in the cactus).

We ate our Thanksgiving dinner at the Tara Thai restaurant. Oh, man. We got Thanksgivingly stuffed, and loved every bite. I have some new ideas for cooking now. Mmmm!

The next morning I was excited to hit up that Bell Rock. Aaron, Duce and I hiked to the base and started climbing up the Northeast side -- where the cliff bands slide out to more step-like structures. It definitely was climbing, however. Not just a hike. Mountain goat Duce leapt up some scary spots until he turned around and saw that he had to go down. “Whimper, whimper,” he said.

We made it to just below the vertical juts that I would have needed climbing gear to ascend. That was the best we could do that day, and it was acceptable, though I’m still not satisfied.... Aaron said he would like to bike on that stuff. I said no way to that.

But then we got the bikes out. On the Chapel Trail around the Twin Buttes. It was all safe enough until I realized we were actually riding on those buttes. Right on the edges that teeter over the lower edges that teeter over the ones below them and so on. Edges of slick rock that slant toward the bottom. Holy buckets on the hill, did that scare me. I truly tried to get past the fear, but I wanted to make it back to da Harbor some day, so I walked most of that. Yeah. So that’s what it’s like hiking that stuff in mountain biking shoes. The opposite of secure -- no grips on those plastic soles. I just may haven been safer on my bike. Nah.

And to add that ride to the rest of them that we didn’t learn a lesson from, we came back out of the trail system in the dark. Dark, I tell you. The trail could only be seen in 2D for the last 15 minutes. But hey, I lived through it again.

Thanksgiving in Sedona, AZ

I jinxed myself. Remember how I gloated about not going to any‘” fancy places” like Vegas or L.A.? Well, it turns out that Sedona, AZ is pretty stinkin fancy. Psychic, jewelry, art and masseuse shops are on every block. There are even boutiques for pets! All the buildings are designed to match -- adobe style. Landscapes allow no stone out of place. We were lucky to find a motel room for under $80 a night. Yeah, so we opted for the motel. I thought we were going to camp until the night promised 20 degrees, and gray clouds sprinkled snow. Call me a wuss.

But hey, now I get to write to you! That’s something to be thankful for!

Let me tell you a little about Sedona so far. The rock structures are really quite amazing. Here are a couple examples.

And tomorrow, we hope to ride our bikes around those rocks. Let it not surprise you, however, that I want to climb those bundles of earth. Most look pretty impossible with their vertical juts. But I am an idealist. I have no climbing gear, and Aaron shakes his head when I look up at them with starry eyes and a drool string, but I don’t care. Heck. I don’t even know if I’m legally allowed to climb them. I’ll eye them up and see if I find a feasible one.

Before I have too much news for you, I want to catch you up on some of the quirks I’ve forgotten to tell you along this journey thus far. Here’s a random list.

I get to smell roses. Roses! Other flower species too, of course, but that’s the point. Flowers galore are still blooming in WA, OR, CA and AZ... did you know I’m 80 miles away from Mexico? I guess it stays just warm enough down here for me to smell the roses. Ahh, I’ll sniff one for you.

The wildlife is different in the places I’ve been. Notably, some of my favorites are the elk and the quails. I don’t see those guys in da Harbor. Man, quails are so squeezin cute with their little plumes bobbing around on their heads. And elk, well, elk are delicious.

I did a cartwheel on the Golden Gate Bridge. Tee hee!

The geography changes so rapidly when we’ve been driving across the country. I haven’t been keeping track of just how much elevation we change in a day, but it can be thousands of feet. One moment we’re in the mountains, then we quickly descend into the desert plains. This is definitely a drive to stay awake for!

We have been so far south, that at one point, the only radio stations we could catch were in Spanish. All of them. How cool! Here we were in America, and we couldn’t get an English-speaking station! I’ll never refuse a little culture.

Thank you, thank you, thank you to Joey in Glendo, Matt and Sara in Spokane, Katie and Ben in Portland, Rich and Nancy in Nevada City and Pat, Gary and Mike in San Jose. All these fine folks graciously let Aaron, Duce and I crash their pads during our stay. We would like to thank them for making this trip feel a little more like home.

Lastly, hello to all my friends in the Keweenaw! I miss you and think of you often! Keep the snow on the ground til we get there!

Okay... Feliz Thanksgiving!

San Jose, CA

After Nevada City we traveled farther south, which was not in the plan and which made us slightly nervous. But Aaron’s cousin, Michael, lived in San Jose -- not Tahoe, like we thought. So San Jose, there we went. If you are not familiar with that area, which I wasn’t, it’s about 50 miles southeast of San Francisco. San Francisco? That’s a big town. And we were going to see it.

But the drive there was full of vineyards, nut plantations and other orchards. That was cool to see. We even saw orange and persimmon trees! Oooh, tropically. But despite the exotic fruits, the first thing to really tell me that we were in a big city was this.

An actual building for YAHOO!? I thought YAHOO only existed on the internet! But there it was in all its concrete reality. Oy.

Night one in San Jose, CA we had a lovely dinner at Mike's (thanks, Pat!) and sampled some mighty brews.

And the next day, it rained. We sat on the couch all day and watched 8 movies in a row. More movies than I have watched in the last eight years. But it was a good day for it. We didn’t have to feel so bad. Our heads did that for us.

Sunday was sunny San Francisco day (which I hear is quite rare for SF). I was taken aback by the drive from San Jose to San Fran on Hwy. 280. It was all green and hills and trees! Oh my! It was peaceful and pleasant for half and hour in between cities. That was refreshing. It’s nice to see so much land preserved around there.

In San Fran, we walked over the Golden Gate Bridge, and checked out a couple overlooks to get views of the ocean, bridges and city. Nice, but uh, the Mackinac Bridge is a way bigger suspension bridge. Yeah. Go Michigan!

Soon we parked and walked to Pier 39 which is like a circus! Cotton candy, rides, music -- all that entertainy stuff. We headed to Fisherman’s Wharf from there where we grabbed a quick lunch. Then to Buena Vista for one of their world famous Irish coffees. They use Tullamore Dew. It really was that good.

From there we tinkered around to China Town, but it was dark by then, so we found our way to the car and went back to Mike’s place.

Monday, we finally got to ride our bikes at Soquel Demonstration State Park. I’m glad Mike didn’t tell me what kind of ride we were doing because I probably wouldn’t have gone. After driving around the area for an hour, we finally found the trail. Ha ha. Ha.

So we got a late start. But we were feeling all revved up and ready to climb. And climb we did. Up and up 4.2 miles on a fire road. It really wasn’t too bad, though. Thank goodness. Then we had our half an hour descent on the singletrack. I mean, this was a-a-a-all downhill. We hardly had to pedaled at all. And steep! I spent a lot of time clutching my brakes over those wet rocks and roots. What a technical challenge! Then up again. I don't even know how far, but man, I was tired after that climb. Then downdiggity down.

But wait! Trickery! Up one more time? It’s already getting dark! That MIke, he got us good. But at least we were climbing up fire roads in the dark, so we had more of a margin for error. We made it home alive -- unscathed.

And today? Today we made it to Kingman, Arizona through mountains and the Mojave Desert. Here is a sign we saw on our way to grab dinner that evening. We loved it because we were not going to any of those fancy places. See you after Sedona, AZ!

The Last Week

You might want to grab a beverage or a snack for this one. I haven’t had internet access since Portland, so I have a lot to say. I apologize if you felt neglected. I did too.

Oregon

Portland was a Portland time. As they say in Portland, “We drink and eat.” That’s really the jist of what we did, and it was nice to try some local brews -- not to mention cook the most amazing fajitas I’ve ever eaten with my sister. Yeah, we rock. The cherry and toasted almond chipotle truffles were pretty amazing too.

We grabbed some coffee and part of the Bears game at the ‘Fixin To’ on Sunday before our journey south in the fog. The gloomy rain and fog. I know I couldn’t live in Portland this time of year... and they say we’re hearty up in da U.P.!

The neatest part of this journey was the drive from Eugene to Florence on 126. The moisture in the air keeps the moss thick, green and lush. It really looked like a rainforest through there! The ferns were amazing too. It was all just so thick. Yes, thick, green and lush. Luscious.

In Florence, we finally got to our long-awaited Hwy. 101, which follows the Pacific coast from Canadia to California. So there we were on 101 -- in the fog. “Is that the ocean behind those trees?” We couldn’t tell. We could hardly see a football field’s length away. Darkness was upon us anyway, so we banked on a sunny tomorrow and sought shelter in a little motel in North Bend, OR. I think all that dark and wetness got to us because we each ate a pint of ice cream before bed. It was delicious.

But Cookie Dough and Huckleberry Swirl didn’t bring any blue skies the next morning. We had the same limitied visibility through the fog. Nodda. How were we going to see the ocean through that? We were used to our streak of bad luck by now (which I will spare you), so we just added it to the list of things we have endured and conquered.

But really. Where was that stinkin ocean? Does it even exist? I’m looking west and see mist. Just mist. And no, it wasn’t in my eyes.

Before leaving Oregon completely, we turned the corner in a little town to read, painted right on the road: “OCEAN VIEW.” We took that little turnoff because it sounded promising.

Sure enough. There she was -- the Pacific Ocean. We got out and took pictures. We were proudly tourists.

Oddly enough, most of 101 after that showcased the ocean... when we could see it. Sweet. And not so oddly enough, about 15 miles before California, the clouds parted, and the sun blazed through the car windows. I mean, it was hot! California, here we come!

California

Appoximately 4 miles before the Cali border, I got my camera ready. I wanted a shot of the “Welcome to California” sign. I didn’t know what it looked like, I just knew that I wanted a picture of it because I never thought I would be in California. After what seemed like 10 minutes of watching every sign that passed, there it was!

I turned my camera on, aimed, pushed the button... and missed completely. Aw crud. So much for that.

But, in beautiful, sunny California (I still can’t believe I’m in California) there was a giant piece that didn’t let me down. The Redwoods.

Pretty big, hey? Oh, yeah. Like monsters. Tall, beautiful, red and green monsters. I felt even smaller than I already did. Dwarfed. Dwarfed in awe, I tell you.

We even drove partially on the Avenue of the Giants just to bask in their glory a little closer. And when we got tired of driving 35 mph, we ducked back onto 101.

We stopped quickly in Arcata for advice on where to ride our bikes. Lots of hippie-looking people walking around. We were in California, man.

Then we furthered on south toward Shelter Cove on the lost coast, where we were going to camp for the night. In beautiful, sunny California. Ooh, is it fun to say that! The road to Shelter Cove was like driving a car on the bike trails. Slow, tight, curvy and hilly. It took us a good hour to get the 20-something miles to our camp site on those roads.

But we got there just in time to pitch camp before dark. By 5:30 pm we were sitting in the dark with a bottle of delicious wine and a waxing half moon. Stars popped more and more as the night went on. I saw two shooters. Ahh, just like the Keweenaw! I felt wonderful... maybe my wishes will come true....

In the sunny morning (because we’re in California), we set out to ride the Paradise loop by the Tolkan camp site we were at. We checked out the newly built skills park first, and that was awesome! Even I tried my mad skills (which are -- no, not really anything skillful. Sorry.). Then we were ready for the real ride. Our first real ride since Curt Gowdy (don’t ask).

The trails were just how I like them: smooth and flowy. But, uh, Aaron’s bike was broken. That ended that ride. Chalk that one on the list too. Oy.

I didn’t mind too much because then we got to do what I really wanted to do -- hike on the Black Sands Beach along the King Range coast. Yesssssss, a beach walk!

Besides the fact the “black sands” were actually black rocks and pebbles, it was everything I hoped for. Aqua-colored waves crashing into white foam on the shore, salt, sunny sunshine and even a 30 foot boulder for yours truly to climb up. Plus, I fulfilled my goal of putting my feet in the ocean. Yeah, and then I had to run out before I got swallowed! It was so worth it. So was the 10 minutes I took to just lay there on the beach. Except for the salt, it could have been Superior.

Riding in California

A beautiful, sunny Wednesday promised our first full ride in California along the Pioneer Trail, a trail along the ditches the pioneers built to canal water. Unfortunately, Aaron was not able to get his bike fixed, so he stayed behind to look for other options while Rich (in Nevada City, where we stayed) and I ventured out.

The trail was really cool. I liked riding on the berms next to the ditches. It gave a little excitement while still feeling safe. We rode through a “rock garden” which required much focus to stay on my bike. We rode under sugar pine trees, which I wouldn’t have known until my tires weaved through 14” long by 5” wide pine cones. Most definitely the biggest cones I’ve ever seen! I wanted to gather some, but they were really too big to stuff in my pack. Hopefully I’ll find some more around here....

Overall, it was a fun and peaceful ride. We only saw two hikers on our 12 mile ride. Wait, that was only 12 miles? I was beat by the end of it. But like I said, I hadn’t ridden for a while. Not bad for a couple cripples.

Luckily, Aaron got his bike fixed, and, since we knew we were all ready for a good ride, we attempted the 19 miled Epic South Yuba River Trail the next day. This trail zigs and zags along the South Yuba River on a mountain side. I mean, really carved in the side of these hills the whole way. Death was always on the left... all the way down to the river.

I’m not goint to lie, that kinda freaked me out. And the fact that I had come close to the edge with my tires multiple times in the first two miles of singletrack really wore on my nerves. Not to mention that some of those climbs were so steep that I ended up walking most of them. Not to mention that I couldn’t make it over hardly any obstacles on the trail.

But the sun was shining, and my body was feeling good, and I was out with two nice boys and my handsome pup (though they were always way ahead), and I was riding along the beautiful Yuba River. Sounds pretty nice, hey? Yeah. It does. And after I tried to concentrate on all that to turn me back into happy, smiley Amanda Wais, I would almost fall off the edge again. God f*$%!#& d@##!% exclamation point! Noooooo! I hate this! I don’t want to be a mountain biker any more! I want to get out of here now! I wanted to throw my bike into the river and lay on the trail until the animals ate my carcass. Twice I had to convince myself that this was not an option.

Whoo. So there’s my dark side for you. But I really wanted to make it through the trail. I wanted to say I did it.

Luckily, shortly after those first few hellacious miles, we stopped for a snack. My psychologists, Rich and Aaron, talked me out of my emotional tantrum and made me feel better about it all. Turns out that they were having a slightly rough time too. Okay. I can do this. Only 12 1/2 miles to go. Whimper, whimper.

Once I got my head out of my head, I really had an enjoyable time. The trail seemed a little safer. I didn’t mind that I had to walk up some of those hills. It was hard to keep traction while pedaling over a carpet of bay leaves and acorns. But, gosh darn it, I was going to finish the Yuba Trail.

We saw some cool sights along the way. Most mentionably, purple-capped mushrooms, waterfalls, quails, thick moss covering whole treas, a gathering of thousands of ladybugs huddled together (pictured below) and a ruby-red sunset. The latterest was bittersweet. Yes, it was an amazing color, but it also meant that it would be dark soon, and we were still in the woods.

Soon the leaves and rocks on the trail were all the same color. Oh, why did I take so long to cry on the trail when I should have just been pushing my bike? Now it’s getting dark! So I tried my tired legs tried to pedal a little faster. And just before I could hardly see my handlebars, I pushed my bike up the last hill... to the car. I did it. I rode the Epic South Yuba Trail.

The Road to Spokane and Portland

The road from Jackson, WY to Spokane, WA was a long one. Really long. I guess it became longer because of our journey through Yellowstone National Park. We were excited to take the road through this national wonder to see some of the great sights along the way.

The Grand Tetons towered to the west as we traveled north at 30-55 mph. The road through the park was snowy and slick. Good thing Aaron is used to driving in those conditions. We went through a few park entrances with no tolls to pay. “Guess we’ll just keep on going!”

We drove two hours north of Jackson through the national park until we literally couldn’t go any further. The gate across the only road north was barred: “Road Closed.” Okay, uh, guess we’ll turn back around.

When we looked at the map, we realized we had to take that same road all the way back down plus 30 miles south of Jackson. We looked at each other through crooked grins, shaking our heads. What else could we do? At least the view was great, and now we got to see it through the other side of the car window. Good thing we were on vacation!

Thirteen hours later we made it up to Missoula, MT, after passing through Idaho. There, in the frosty air, we checked in to a Motel 6, slept, got up and kept driving in the morning the last three hours to Spokane. Ahh, safe and sound at my little brother’s place.

Our second night there, we got to experience some big city night life: bouncers at the doors, girls all decked out in little outfits and high heels, hip hop music pounding over a disco lit floor and shelves of booze up to the ceiling. I ordered a Talisker single malt scotch just to see what the bartender had to climb up to get it. They have step ladders. It was so worth it.

The next day, mostly in the dark, we traveled southwest to Portland, OR. I-84 along the Columbia River really is a beautiful drive, but, like I said, it was dark, so we could really only see the silhouettes of the gorge looming above.

And today in Portland, moisture drizzles from the sky. My sister said it will do that until April. I tell ya, 20 degrees colder, and it would be snow! Here’s to the St. John Bridge... and the microbrews... and the bikes... and my sister!

Wyoming

Here I sit in a Super 8 motel in Jackson, WY in 20something degree weather with snow on and off. How did I get here, you ask?

We left the ever-friendly and beautiful-hill-laiden Rapid City on Saturday (I will miss you!). Later that day we arrived in Glendo, WY. A middle of nowhere town with a great dammed reservoir and bike trails. Aaron found his trail-building friend there who took us on a ride around the rim of the reservoir. Pretty cool view -- especially as the sun set. It was there that I had my first endo (flying over the handlebars) of the trip. I escaped with only semi-minor bruising and soreness. I am mostly healed up now.

From there we drove South, through Cheyenne, WY to Curt Gowdy State Park. On our way, dark clouds loomed and threatened rain. The wind whipped Lake Superior style. We found a well-tucked campsite and set up camp. When the rain cleared up, and we worked up some courage, we rode the Curt Gowdy trails.

Personally, my favorite part was the landscape. Oh. My. Goodness gracious. Now I'm a big fan of boulders -- especially boulders stacked upon boulders. This place was full of them. Boulders in the distance. Boulders around the trail. Boulders under the trail. I made some sounds that probably resembled an orgasming woman choking on a gumdrop. Yeah, it was that good.

Here is Aaron (on the left in red) riding past one example.

And there I was again, in my biking shoes which don't allow for scaling boulders. I was so enamored by these sights that I truly tipped over on my bike about 13 times. It was so worth it.

And even better, the next morning, I took a hike up to a great lookout. Yes. I was free to climb and roam as I pleased... without fear of falling off a bike. Now that's what I'm talking about!

Oh, but I can't forget to mention our dinner after the bike ride. We took a drive about 15 miles north to the Bunkhouse Bar and Grill. We walked in to locals smoking at the bar -- one wearing a cowboy hat. A variety of stuffed heads and birds decked the walls. Country music played over the speakers (anything else would have been blasphemy). And best of all: $2 well drinks. Boy, I had me three gin and tonics just because. I was glad I wore my new Stetson pants in there. Yee haw!

Tomorrow promises a trip north through Yellowstone and the Tetons to Spokane, WA where my brother will be eagerly waiting our arrival -- at least 11 hours later. Take care!

Storm Mountain, SD

I wasn't going to write today, but I had such a great bike ride.

Rich, Duce and I drove 15 miles South of Rapid City, just past Rockerville, to Storm Mountain. The sun shone brightly in the blue sky, and we were almost warm in the 55 degrees.

The first thing I noticed about this area was the rocks jutting out of the ground like hoarfrost. I've never seen anything like that before.

The riding itself was great fun because it wasn't either a climb or a descent (like most places I've ridden). We actually had some in-between rolling terrain! What a blast! At one point, on a jutty descent, we were riding between trees that were all leaning the same way. It was eerie and dark in there -- like a haunted trail. So cool.

Then we came upon this amazing structure.

Look closely, now. These rocks are somehow piled and stacked all the way up to the top of the picture in a mound! Had I not been wearing biking shoes with the metal clips on the bottom, I would have climbed in and out, up and down this majestic feature of Mother Nature. Oy, I should have just gone barefoot. Oh well... it gives me a reason to go back, right? I just might some day.

The rest of the ride was pretty gnarly, but so fun. A real different adventure. We even saw 47 sandhill cranes circling in a flock above us. What a treat! Well, hopefully there's more fun ahead... stay tuned!

Rapid City, SD

Greetings from Rapid City, South Dakota! Considering this is already the fourth day I have been out of da Harbor, I have lots to say. However, I am also an advocate of conciseness, so I'll try to keep it to the most exciting parts.

First a little background, so you know why I am in Rapid City: Aaron and his trail building partner, Elias, are building a new trail here. Elias's dad, Rich, and I drove out here to meet them, so Rich and Elias can drive back home, and Aaron, Duce and I can continue Westward Ho.

Our first stop was in Exeland, WI, so see Aaron's parents and rest after our first 5 hours of driving. The morning there greeted us with a thick layer of frost -- something I hadn't seen in the Keweenaw before I left. From Exeland, we embarked West not knowing how far we would get on day 2.

But we drove and drove and drove all the way through Minnesota and on I-90 through South Dakota. Thank goodness South Dakota lets us drive 75 mph on that interstate. We made it to Rapid City at 10:30 pm Mountain Time. Thanks to our enchanting conversations, 14 hours in the car didn't seem so bad.

The first day in Rapid City was sunny and 70 degrees. Man, oh man was that nice! Rich, Duce and I ventured out on the mountain bike trails, up and up at about 3,500 feet of elevation. I was panting, but the terrain was pretty unique, so I kept entertained. We rode around and found our boys chiseling in the sandstone and pushing rocks down the hill. Quite a trail they are making.

Then I got to eat lunch at the cabin on a picnic table wearing a tank top and my pants rolled up. It was heavenly. So heavenly that I brought out my notebooks and a can of KBC Pickaxe Blonde Ale. I filled quite a few of those pages, I tell you what.

I'm thoroughly surprised at how much I like it here. Maybe it's because I'm staying in a little village with other peaceful campers. But the people I've encountered are all so nice. I mean they go out of their way to help others. That's the kind of people I like. I'd have to do more research, but I almost think I could live here. If it weren't for those B-1 jets thundering through the sky once in a while....

And today was the day for me. Since I took my first walk around the area I'm staying in, I saw this cliff atop a rock (cliff is on the left). This shot depicts the rock as the sun is rising on it. Nice, I know.

I don't really know why I get these urges, but when I saw that glorious hunk of sandstone, I just knew I had to climb it and dangle my feet off the edge of the cliff. I wasn't sure where or how to get there, but the urge was so strong that I knew I'd find a way. And I did. Here is proof.

Yes. I am fulfilled. But I also heard there was a disc golf course in town, so Rich and I checked that out and played 16 1/2 of the 18 holes. We got a little confused by the layout, but had a lovely time in the wind and sunshine nonetheless.

Presently I am able to enjoy this moment with you. Ahhhh. Doesn't it feel nice? Yes. Yes it does. I will write soon with more wonderful moments. For now, please enjoy where ever you are!