« October 2004 | Main | December 2004 »

November 18, 2004

Joshua Tree

Approaching the Imperial Dunes Recreation area, I found conflicting and confusing information about the fees and policies. It seemed I would have to drive back about 10 minutes to see the score and get a permit. I asked some people who were standing outside of their RV, pulled off just by the end of the exit ramp, what they knew about the area.

Turns out they were a French-Canadian couple from Montreal, en route to Baja California. They wanted to reach the southermost tip. They had, in tow, a 1200cc Honda touring motorcycle to help complete this task.

The man pointed to the border of the recreation fee area and said "do what I do, stop by the line". I pulled up near them on a somewhat-packed sand.

I never got their names, but they were very friendly. The man brews his own wine at home and offered me tastes of some. It was very good, though balmy weather and a gorgeous sunset behind the dunes didn't hurt. His wife was friendly and warm, but she abruptly disappeared when he started making some sexist jokes about female drivers. She told me, through the open window of her RV, that "Canada has many male chauv... chau... showmen!" The window then slammed shut, and she prepared dinner while I was schooled in the ways of winemaking, Canadian civil electricity systems, and the petropolitics now being played by the United States, while the rest of the world watches, in total understanding, from their sufficiently distant persceptives. I was the choir being preached to as he launched into tirades about high gas prices, lack of efficiency in America's public transportation, horrible over-consumption and lack of recycling, health care crisises, Celine Deon playing live in Vegas, and Niagra Falls. It was all pretty good, and it gave me a lot to think about as I went to sleep around 8pm (would have been 7pm in Arizona, four miles away).

From the dunes, I drove around the Saltan Sea, largest lake in California. Its fairly surreal, it looks like an ocean out in the middle of ... nothing. Like the place where the time machine crashes in Planet of the Apes.

Lots of dates available in Indio, the kind that grow on palm trees, not the kind that you get at a truckstop for $50.

Entering the Joshua Tree National Park, I was stunned by the ocotillo plants, which look like coral to me. I had never seen them before. Eventually I started to see actual Joshua Trees, and then a forest of cholo cactus.

Joshua Tree is one of those places which at a glance seems so dead and still, but as soon as you stop, you notice stern little plants growing right out of rocks, plenty of lizards and tarantulas patrolling the ground, hawks and ravens circling overhead. Its actually teeming. I was hoping to see a desert tortoise but was not so lucky.

From the top of a small mountain, it was apparant how much smog had drifted in from Los Angeles, 200 miles to the west. The view of Palm Springs and Indio was quite hazy.

The rock formations in Joshua Tree are astonishing. Enormous piles of boulders just rising up from the dust of the Mojave Desert. I especially liked the spherical rock suspended in a gap. Some of them almost look like Picasso works, with geometric shapes carefully arranged. It was easy to kill a lot of time looking at the shapes of the rocks and imagining what they looked like (just like finding shapes in clouds). Apparantly I'm not alone in this as there are several features with names like "Skull Rock", "Hall of Horrors", and so forth.

At one point, a coyote trotted up to my van and looked at me longingly. I've seen several coyotes all around the country, and they are usually quite shy and quickly disappear into the bush. My previous favorite was one which had a rabbit in its mouth, but this time I got such a good view that I was really blown away. I was concerned at first that this guy was sick, since he was so slow and tame, but I suppose he is just acclimated to people, probably through feeding.

The sunset and subsequent sunrise were astonishing. I popped awake at 5am as a burrow owl would not stop its cooing. I took time to walk all around the area and again try in vein to photograph the morning colors. Like Colossal Cave, one has to be very careful not to bump into anything at Joshua Tree... its all covered with spikes and teeth.

This part of the trip is starting to be colored by a little sadness as I am in my home time zone and heading directly closer to home. The vision of the cold northern pacific waters are strong in my mind, where they have felt so far away for so long. I'm looking forward to the drive up the coast, but I am not looking forward to the increasing melancholy as urban workaday reality arrives. Right now is a sort of experiment in figuring out mental techniques for keeping these issues at bay for as long as possible while they grow physically closer and closer.

Posted by dokodemo at 11:09 AM | Comments (0)

November 17, 2004

200

This happened one mile after crossing into California. Also, headlights are fixed, there was some simple resoldering to do after the ground connection was cleaned up.

Posted by dokodemo at 12:28 PM | Comments (0)

Vanagon crew at Catalina

Larry arranged a meetup with a few other "full or longtimers" as well as some locals from the Tuscon area. We met at the beautiful Catalina State Park on the outskirts of Tucson.

The weekend passed very quickly... many laughs and good times were had. The cast of characters:



Dire
Drove a splitty (older bus, not a Vanagon and not a camper. Called a "splitty" because the front windshield is divided into 2 discrete panels). He was a software engineer, environmentalist, mountain climber, and very friendly fellow. He restored his bus from the ground up, knowing nothing about them to start, but learning quite a bit in the process. He is now working on a 1984 Westy Vanagon he bought for $400. Good luck Dire! Sadly, he was only able to spend the first evening with us, leaving shortly after sunset.


Diana
She pilots a Syncro Vanagon (4wd version... mmmmmm), but instead of the typical Westfalia camping conversion, it is an "Adventurewagon" (Adventurewagen ?), out of Fort Bragg, CA. These are not poptops, rather they are taller than normal. The accoutremants are similar to the Westy, but the arrangement is quite different. I was quite captivated by the charm and style of the interior, which had quite a nautical style. The cupboards and cabinets and shelves were wood, with a very warm and finely crafted aesthetic. I was quite impressed with the vehicle, and was trying hard to supress the "must have" signals my brain was firing.

Diana was a beautiful, healthy, glowing woman with an infectuous smile. Her hero is her grandmother, Genevieve, whom her Wagon is named for. Genevieve spent years travelling the nation in the pre-highway days, using a millitary weapons carrier (like a huge gnarly jeep style truck). There is a book documenting these travels, _Millions Want To_. Diana travels with a sheepdog, Sheila. A real honor and pleasure to meet them both.


Larry
Also a Syncro driver, Larry has a Westfalia. Far from typical, however, Roadhaus has been a roving testbed for nearly any possible camping gadget. Larry has spent a year and then some roving North America in his camper, while constantly upgrading, improving, and tweaking every possible system. He has spared no expense in creating the ultimate touring vehicle. Larry is one of those people so kind, warm, and genuine, that he is almost a characture of himself. His crazy giggle is that of a man having more fun than should be legally allowed. I've followed his travels on the internet for many months (or years), and consider him a role model in many ways. He abandoned his career at IBM in order to do what he really wanted to, and hasn't looked back. He has had to return to work, but we can't all win. Larry is a philanthropist, a comedian, a philosopher, and really a spectacular human. I was looking forward to meeting him for many reasons, but he surpassed my expectations on all counts.


Charlie and Cathy
This couple from Michigan have been travelling a few months in a light metallic blue Westy, my favorite of the factory colors. They knew nothing about Vanagons when they bought it, but lucked out on an amazing, nearly pristine specimen. Months were then spent preparing it for fulltime travel, and they are now on the brink of a 6-month oddysee to Mexico and Central America. Extremely kind, witty, and intelligent, they felt like old friends instantly. They are bastions of rational and liberal thought in an area where that is not always the norm (central Michigan). They insisted on cooking for us the entire weekend, and they make mean martinis. Bleu-cheese stuffed olives, so delicious, who knew? It was really a treat to hear their tales and talk with them late into the night. I am vicariously quite excited about the adventure they are about to start, stepping quite boldly across the border. They have an attitude and approach which I was in admiration of. I expect they are going to have some rough and terrifying times ahead, and they are going to emerge unscathed, with flying colors, and a long list of incredible tales to tell.

Bob and Anne
This couple just happened to be at the campground at the same time. I saw their '88 silver Westy (almost like mine) and invited them to join us if they desired. They came over the next morning, and we had a great time getting to know them. From Montana, we had a lot in common. Anne (two syllables, she was from Germany) was a beautiful silered hippie and Bob was also a hep
cat who had been around the block several dozen times. They were not so aware of the "Vanagon scene" (perhaps a good thing, but they seemed to have been tempted to investigate), but they were avid birders and I was glad to learn as much as I could about all the little chirpers that were so prevelant in this campsite. They were "only" on a 12-day trip, but they have been using VW campers since the 50s, cumalitively longer than any of us there (and probably more than all of us put together). They had to leave quickly, but it was so great to have them spontaneously join us.

Catalina Park was stunning, especially given its proximity to the city. The whole time, however, I did very little exploration, as I was too busy discussing important topics with my Vanagon consultants. Items like how to chill "baby butt wipes" (as Cathy calls moist towelettes, a phrase which infuriated Larry), merits of distilled water mixed with engine coolant, and so on. We did have a very productive Saturday, however. Aside from the crucial mission of scoring some sour cream for the evenings tacos, Larry and I hit Home Depot to find a $2.98 version of the $30 hatch-opening accessory. We also confirmed that my propane system is working fine, and only requires a skilled attendant (in Texas I was told 3 times that my regulator was not working). At the same time, Charlie had his regulator actually replaced, as his was indeed damaged. We passed the time while the work was done sipping some margaritas at a local Mexican restaurant, and we all had "melted cheese" for the first time. This was a kind of double boiler, the bottom filled with charcoal, and a chorizo/cheese mixture at the top. It could perhaps be considered a kind of thick, Mexican fondue. It was absolutley delicious spooned onto small corn and flour tortillas.

Returning to the park, the laughs mixed with useful tips and compelling tales of past adventures never let up. As the night wore on and it became quite nippy, I spent some time in the blue van and started to really appreciate an auxillary heater. Larry demonstrated his Propex propane heater, and I think I am sold on it. He also showed us how to work his ShadyBoy awning, which also seems a great value. I am about to give up on my Bus Depot EZ Awning, but that is another story.

It was so good to make some new friends so quickly and easily, and it really inspired me to seek out more of the group campouts in the Northwest, such as the Wet Westies participate in. We all were dwelling on how excellent it is to have a community of people with such an eccentric interest (these mid 80s questionable and remarkable vehicles), and the great lengths they go to in order to help each other. There is a lot to learn about camping in a Vanagon, and for some reason, the people who are attracted to them also seem to enjoy helping others. This is not true with all vehicles... I don't want to name names, but suffice it to say that the VW crew really are good people.

On the front of Roadhaus, Larry keeps an ever-growing mandala-like pile of roadkill pieces... seashells, bones, feathers, sprigs from shrubs, etc. This talisman, attached to the front grill, is the first part of Roadhaus to cross a state or national border. It guides him and perhaps protects him. It was quite touching when, as I was packing up to leave, I noticed a grisly coyote bone sticking out of my front bumper. Larry said "its a start".

Posted by dokodemo at 11:36 AM | Comments (0)

Back to the Dunes

Since my headlights were only working sometimes, I stopped at the Hot Wells Dunes again, on my way into Tucson. This time I knew my way around, chose a better spot, and spent more time in the tubs. It was a little quieter than the first time, and I drove much better in the sand.

Posted by dokodemo at 11:26 AM | Comments (0)

November 14, 2004

Blinded!

Driving up and down a very remote mountain road en route to the Chiricahua National Monument, I pulled over to take a photo of the stunning sunset. Then things took a turn for the worse.

After taking the (always futile) photos of the sunset, I got back into the van and turned on the headlights. About 100 yards down the road, I thought "the lights are sure not very bright". They were not on. I pulled onto the next little turnout pad, a big pile of mud on the side of a cliff. Luckily for my safety, there was a log on the edge to keep me from plummeting over the side. I checked fuses, wiggled the switches, and received no light joy. I spent the night there.

All night I was laying there half-awake, waiting for the police to pound on my window, reminding me that camping on the side of a treacherous mountain road is not safe. I would then explain, startled and sleepy, that driving without headlights is also not safe. The cop would say "ah yes, that is also illegal. Lets go downtown, boy".

These fears were in vein, though, since no cars came by. Well, one did right after I stopped, and another came by around 4am. The one at 4am layed on the horn the whole time they passed me.

I sat there awake, waiting for the sun to rise so I could drive into a town and work on the lights. In the morning, the lights worked.

The road I was on was a designated scenic route. As I approached Safford, AZ, the scenic designation ended, and sure enough, I suddenly happened upon a horrible and sad stripmining area. Bleach. I had to roll up the windows, it was so dusty. Some cool mega dumptrucks, etc, but thats not enough to say its worthwhile. I have been a consumer of cinderblocks in the past, so I guess I support this industry, but geez is it nasty.

Long story short, the headlights are still busted, intermittantly. I spent the weekend in Tucson, and have an appointment to have the lights worked on. Story of the Tucson weekend to follow.

Posted by dokodemo at 02:26 PM | Comments (2)

Wupatki

Amazing ruins, dormant volcanos, and beautiful wide open spaces make up the Wupatki National Monument. There is not much to say about it which hasn't been covered in my other posts, but like most of the Monuments, its wonderful, fascinating, eerie, and well worth checking out.

I would point out two things... the first is to note how amazing the architecture/construction of the homes are so similar to the natural formations of the canyon. The stacked cubical structure of the building is so seamless with the way the canyon rocks are arranged, I really dug that. Also, the sign listing the rules was very atypical for park department information. Usually their copy is so sterile, so generic, so sober. Someone got away with a little fun on this poster, and I appreciated it. Its pretty subtle, but like me laughing at the antics of javelinas, I'm easily amused when in the middle of nowhere alone for a long time.

Posted by dokodemo at 01:57 PM | Comments (0)

The Grandest Canyon

Yeah the Grand Canyon is one of the 7 Wonders of the World, and everyone is supposed to see it at least once in their life. I visited because I felt compelled. Yeah its great and all that, but to be honest, its not among my top destinations. To be fair to the canyon, I was a lame tourist and gave it only a cursory glance. I did not ride a mule to the bottom, I did not raft down the rapids of the Colorado, I did not even take one step down off the rim. I would certainly love to do all of these things at some point, and I know I wouldn't regret it, but all in all, I would rather see a brilliant blue glacier lake in Montana, or the more modest walls of the Box Canyon in Wupatki or an orca breaching from a ferry in Puget Sound. I think the very grandeur of the Grand Canyon was a turnoff for me. Too large to comprehend, it felt to me like the popular girl at school whom cannot keep me from looking, but will not ever deign to get to know me personally. I guess I like the natural outcasts of the world... the socially-stunted dry lakebed at the blackrock desert, the enigmatic and unfriendly folds of the badlands, and other places where I feel like I might be the only person wise enough to truly appreciate them. The Grand Canyon is like the fireworks in Washington DC... while undeniably spectacular, huge, brilliant... after the 18th or 19th sub-finale, I kindof get bored and wait for it to end. Its a lot more fun to dangerously light a single bottlerocket and let it go out of your hand.

Not that I'm complaining. I spent the night at the Mather campground, and walked about 8 miles along the rim. It was quite nippy, and whenever I stopped to take photos, I got cold and had to move on. Taking pictures of the Grand Canyon is like flinging paint at a skyscraper and hoping to cover it. Its totally futile, but addictive. That being said, I have a bunch of half-assed photos of the Grand Canyon, maybe just to prove to myself that I was there. Have a look if you want, though I prefer my badlands, gila forest, and yellowstone photos.

Posted by dokodemo at 01:45 PM | Comments (2)

Dawn of a New Age

One of the main reasons that I was in the Tucson area was to visit with the (in)famous Larry Chase, pilot of what is arguably the most talked-about Vanagon on the net, Roadhaus. The timing wasn't quite right, so he asked that I return to the area a week later, and gave me countless suggestions on places to explore (he is the one who mentioned the Hot Well Dunes area to me). With a week to kill, I opened the atlas and stared at Arizona... so many options. I started out by going north, through Phoenix (horrible traffic, even in the middle of a weekday and after a billion+ dollar highway renovation project), and up to Sedona.

Sedona had a twofold reputation in my mind; spectacular natural beauty, and new age crystal worship. I knew very little about either of these aspects and so decided to scope the scene. The last few entries on this site were sent from a truckstop en route, as a hot truckstop shower and a little writing and uploading of photos goes a long way towards renewing the soul. Approaching Sedona, the Red Rock National Forest implied that I was indeed entering a special area. Amazing, indescribable red rock towered, cartoonlike, up above brilliant green forest. Dr. Suess-like spires and wax-drip shaped piles littered the landscape.

Waking up to a sunrise in the Red Rocks was memorable... It is with some regret, though, that I have to confess that I enjoyed it from the comfort of my down sleeping bag, and did not take pains to photograph it for posterity. Some things I like to keep to myself, and sometimes its just too cold to get out of bed.

Around 7am, I drove up to the Sedona Airport, site of one of an energy "vortex", one of the many in the area. I'm not totally clear on the mechanics, but apparantly there are areas where the, um, .. energy... flows powerfully, free to be tapped by anyone sensitive enough and willing to visit the area. I'm not really sure I soaked it up, but I tried. It certainly was a nice view up there. A biplane tour came very close to having me as a customer. I'm not sure why I decided not to, I figured it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and I wouldn't regret the cost. I had the time for it, it was a beautiful day, but I just didn't do it. Maybe the vortex didn't want me to.

I took some photos of the city and surrounding cliffs and formations, and then drove into the city itself. Its a fairly upscale touristized town, many faux-adobe (fauxdobe?) galleries and little shops just oozing "southwest" charm like a plastic veneer. I did enter a couple shops like "Crystal Magic" and "Sedona Stone" to see if I could gather intelligence regarding the New Age activities in the town. They were both quite disappointing, junk shops with some nice insence, stones, and vaguely tacky collections of religious trinkets, statues, flags, and so on from all faiths. Little plastic buddhas next to hindu gods next to little glass angels blowing trumpets next to Birkenstock sandals. It was like a little Wal-Mart for the self-help book set. That being said, I did purchase a piece of bizarre shiny rock and spent some time reading the flyers on the bulletin board. One was advertising the services of a self-described "empath" who could explain the magical orbs which control the workings on this plane, and she alone was able to speak with and even influence the workings of the orbs. Sadly I wouldn't stick around long enough to experience this lecture in person.

To my personal peril, I left Sedona without any deep spirit therapy, past-life regression, or chakric tuning. I did stop at the Safeway to get some ginger ale and bread, however. The Sedona Safeway was disappointingly typical... they use the same plastic bags (I was hoping for hemp satchels) and they still accept the clubcard (instead of psychically tuning into my profile).

Posted by dokodemo at 01:12 PM | Comments (0)

November 12, 2004

Saguaro and Colossal Cave

I don't have any photos of the Saguaro National Park. Remember when I was in the hot springs? The camera was too. It doesn't work anymore.

Anyway, Seguaro was beautiful, trust me. Maybe I will take photos before leaving the area. I did get a new camera, and took some photos of the nearby Colossal Cave park. I didn't go into the cave though.

Went into Tuscon to get supplies. Washed van right before it dto rain. Tucson seems a little down and out, a lot of closed, weathered motels. Many homeless-looking men wandering around. Found a decent camping shop, natural foods store (Sunflower Market), etc.

Went up to the Saguaro National Park around 4, but they did not have camping after all. They did have some backcountry sites, but they would not let me enter that late since it was seven miles.

I drove 11 miles on to the Colossal Cave Mountain County Park, which, aside from the $3 entry fee, offered free camping. It had terrain similar to Seguaro park... many large seguaro cactus, millions of smaller prickly pears, mesquite shrubs, and legions of spiked plants. Walking was in fact quite treacherous... NOTHING could be touched, and there were really no clear areas. both of my hands are pretty seriously scratched up, and my pants surely have lots of holes now (or at least worn areas waiting to rupture).

A fairly fierce windstorm came as the sun went down, I was starting to wonder how much wind would be required to ruin the poptop. I was about to take it down when the storm subsided. Slept very well at a pleasantly cool 50 degrees. Candle lantern is a favorite, though it feels very dangerous.

Downfall of the park is that I was locked in until 9am, despite my habit of getting up with the sun. After seeing a little more of the city, I've decided I really like Tucson and my first impressions were of a Sunday in the wrong part of town. Its really a beautiful city with so much nearby.

Posted by dokodemo at 12:04 PM | Comments (2)

Hot Well Dunes

The Hot Well Dunes Recreation Area was suggested as a great place to go and visit some hot springs. On the way in, I passed the ghost town of Steins, which was a tourist trap on I-10, right at the Arizona border. It was at least an aesthetically appealing toursit trap, and to glance at the town didn't cost anything.


In Bowie, I had to ask where the road for the Hot Well Dunes was located. The gentlemen attempted to explain, and his coworker came over and drew a quick map, saying she had done it a thousand times. Her map was much better than his words, but I still got lost.

I passed the turnoff and travelled aimlessly down a maze of sandy roads. It was amazingly beautiful, but I was getting worried about becoming stuck in the soft sand.

I finally backtracked, able to follow my unique tire treads, and found my turnoff. From there, it was simple.


As I pulled in, I met the camp host, driving around on his ATV. His new puppy was patiently riding on a piece of carpet strapped to the gas tank. I was pleasantly amazed that with my National Parks Pass, it would cost me $3 to stay there for 2 nights. For you mortals, you would have to shell out twice that, at $3 per day.

One of the great aspects of this type of BLM land is that dispersed camping is allowed. This means that instead of using a typical campsite (little parking area, picnic table, etc), I could just go out there... and park. Thats the kind of thing it seems the Westfalia is made for, but the legal oppurtunities are not as many as one would hope. In this case, I was able to drive around the sandy desert and seek out the spot I liked best.

After setting up, I walked to the hot springs, leaving spirals in the sand every so often so that I could find my way back. It was only a day later that I realized I was the only pedestrian in the place, so all I really had to do was look for footprints. 9 out of 10 times, they were mine.

The springs are open all night, which is a mixed blessing. I was very glad to get some midnight soaking under the stars, but also a bit resentful at the loud ATV crowd. I made conversation with a concrete worker from Safford. He was extremely drunk, but was on moderately good behavior. It was a little uncomfortable when his Mexican friend came over, and started cursing about the wetbacks at work. I suppose that ethnic groups in general use their given epithets with a certain bit of pride, but this was a little discouraging. He spoke of how the Mexicans at his company couldn't get anything done, and he had to often seek out the "whiteboy" supervisors.

After a bit of this, I just decided to go back to the van and look at the stars, and go to sleep.

The sunrise was the best yet, a very deep purple.

Spending the weekend there was a great relaxing break from the driving, but Saturday it really filled up with the ATV people. I can't blame them, that is what this area was set aside for, and it really was perfect. A huge, almost endless network of sandly roads, ramps, dips, ruts, cliffs, and ledges for them to play on... I just got tired of the noise.

Saturday's sunset almost matched the sunrise. Impossible flourescent orange, reminding me for some reason of a superball I had as a kid. I would hold this thing, just wondering how such an orange color could even exist. This time it filled about half of my field of vision, before fading into purple and disappearing as the stars emerged.

Posted by dokodemo at 11:20 AM | Comments (0)

November 08, 2004

Gila Cliff Dwellings

Driving to the Gila National Monument was gorgeous. More of the spiky range, more little mountains, and finally pine forest which reminded me of Montana. I was the only one camping there. Out of two campgrounds, both were empty. They are essentially a series of tenting slots up against a parking lot, so I have no choice but to pull up a slice of parking lot and hunker down.

The Gila cliff dwellings were totally incredible. The rangers were knowledgable and friendly, I think this is because they are volunteers and don't get the crowds the way some do (ahem, Carlsbad, cough cough, Great Smokies ahem). A pleasant hike up the canyon led to the cliffs where long ago folks had built some very beautiful housing of stones and mortar. These areas kept them warm, dry, and safe from predators and attackers. They were rather luxurious; windows, ladders, storage rooms, terraces, paths, etc.

A feeling of real tragedy overcame me while considering the fate of these peoples' accumulated knowledge. I was thinking about what living in an area like this would do to your mindset. The majesty of the canyon and river below being the main sights you would see each morning and evening... The quiet whispering wind and coyotes being the main sounds at night. I wondered a bit what kind of world would we have if people living this kind of life made decisions. I guess we will never know, since they are long gone.

Petroglyphs always give me an eerie feeling, and there were plenty in this area. I talked a while with a ranger about the technique of powdering up hematite (an iron-rich rock available in abundance) and using a blowgun to spread it out, like an airbrush.

It was a lot of fun to run into a little pack of javelinas, or collared peccaries. They were running around whistling at each other and really cracking me up. I guess when you are alone in the wilderness for a while, all kinds of things become hilarious. These little guys were so earnest and serious in their hunting and rooting, but as they ran, their tiny little legs didn't look like they could keep up, so they had an awkward trot.

One thing I noticed in New Mexico... on the small roads, everyone waved. Nebraska is the only other state where this practice is implemented as thoroughly.

Stopping in Silver City, I asked a young fellow about the best Mexican food in town, and he pointed me to a place where his mom used to work. I can't say its the best, because it was all I had, but it was excellent.

Later in the day, a truckstop shower renewed my spirits (and probably those of anyone I did encounter).

Posted by dokodemo at 12:18 PM | Comments (0)

White Sands

From Guadalupe Mountains, I quickly entered New Mexico, and gained a precious hour. The mountains faded to rangeland, but slightly different than that of West Texas. The spiky trees with the tall seedpods telescoping were everpresent... I was amazed at the flatness. I played abotu 3 hours of Carlos Montoya flamenco mp3s while the desert flowed past. While crossing a final pass, near Cloudcroft, NM, I thought I could actually see clouds down below in the valley. This was actually the White Sands National Monument.

White Sands National Monument is about what it sounds like, a huge area of lightly colored, powdery sand. Its also a huge missile testing facility, and home of some of the earliest nuclear tests, but thats another story. I was interested in the backpacking oppurtunities there.

I arrived around 2pm, just as the sun was really revealing its full power. A backcountry permit is required to park and walk out, but that was simple enough to arrange. I had to knowingly violate one of the park rules -- "don't hike alone" -- but as I listed "1" in my party, the ranger seemed to be fine with it. Quickly rummaging through the camping box in back, the needed items were selected. Since it was only 1 night, it should have been simple, but I needed to find the clothing which would prove most versatile and with the least weight. 30 minutes later, I slammed a half gallon of water, and headed out.

The dunes were just surreal. It took about 2 minutes from the "Trailhead" to feel like I was totally alone on an alien planet. The silence was amazing... no wind, no birds, no insects, no traffic. The loudest sounds were my footprints and rustling fabrics.

My selected camp was the farthest one out, the cusp of a large loop. However, it was still under 2 miles, and did not take long to find. There is no real "trail" out there; instead, one just follows some wooden poles not unlike small telephone poles, about 5 feet high. Its usually a bit of a challenge to find the next pole while standing next to one, but never hard enough to get lost. Since it was so hot, I pitched the awning fairly high... allowing plenty of ventilation but still protecting from the sun. I took a break under it, gathered items for dinner, and then walked up to the top of the highest dune for a dinner break and to watch the sunset.

Its difficult to explain the colors in the sky and on the cliff walls out there. Suffice it to say that it was quite marvelous. It also came to pass that it became quite nippy the moment the sun completed sinking behind the mountains, leaving only a purple haze in its place. Some speed was required in quickly returning to the camp and fetching almost all of the clothing.

The night's uniform consisted of:

This would be enough insulation to kill me in moderate weather. I can almost never stand long underwear unless a serious wind is howling and its about 15 degrees out. That being said, I was still a little cold, and was considering adding a goretex shell, though never did. I was continually cursing myself for not bringing gloves, while rejoicing in the fact that I had the down vest. Its "furnace" pockets are worth the price of admission, I can almost reach in up to my elbows.

One strange side-effect of these synthetic materials (the down vest shell, the bomber cap) is the ungodly NOISE they create. At one point, while I was standing on the ridge of a dune, staring up at the milky way, a breeze flared up and crinkled the material. I didn't quite fall over out of surprise, but I was so convinced that I heard the patter of footsteps running up to me that I believe I exclaimed audibly. I do remember wondering how good of a weapon a Platypus bladder of water would be. How terrible that in as a remote of a place as I can find in New Mexico, I hear a little rustle and think I am about to be mugged.

Coming back to camp, I lowered the pitch of the tarp to block more wind. This was a good idea. Nay, this was mandatory.

The night was frigid. Wearing all of the above (minus the softshell jacket) and under my down bag, strapped in tightly, I was still a little chilled. It took a few hours to realize that a sort of vestibule made of the softshell allowed for breathing but eliminated some of the chill. I became aware of ice forming on the tarp in the middle of the night, as I brushed it. Tarp shouldn't be brittle. Hunkered down, I did sleep well, and the night was mostly calm. I thought I heard some coyotes yap a few times, though very far away. It was surreal to hear the booming and ground shaking from bomb tests, late at night and in the morning.

The sunrise was of course just as nice as the sunset. It pulled me out of bed quickly, since I wanted to get out of the shadow and up on the dunes into the sun. A breakfast of miso ramen was prepared, and I slowly broke down the camp. All of the ice on the tarp and my backpack took some time to thaw. While some items were drying, I packed others. It seemed to take a long time, but I got out by 8am. On the way out, I noticed some other lazy slugabeds just getting up.

Arriving pack at the trailhead, an unfriendly retired man told me that he needed a hip replacement and couldn't leave the parking lot. He warned me against going anywhere else in New Mexico, claiming it would be 15 degrees, and even with gloves on, I wouldn't be able to feel my hands.

Well, ignoring his wisdom, I pushed on. Stopping at the White Sands Missile Range was pretty intense. I had to have a mild background check performed to enter, and after taking a few photos of old missiles and other aernospace gems, I departed.

Posted by dokodemo at 11:26 AM | Comments (1)

Austin to Carlsbad

From the high 90s and tropical humidity in Austin, it was a bit of a shock to suddenly see some snow up in the mountains beyond Alpine.

The night before I left, Austin had a big rainstorm, and the temp dropped 15 degrees almost instantly. It ended up quite chilly.
Leaving austin, I saw a lot of snow in the hills. Started to experience "vanagon syndrome" for the first sustained time, which had me starting to worry.

This is a known flaw in the wasserboxer engine. The Air Flow Meter (?) becomes confused, and the engine starts to "highway hiccup". There is a slight electrical modification available to address this problem, but since I had never exeperienced it, I hadn't had the operation performed.

Lunch was a "Tabooli Toms Thai Falafel Wrap" which sound like a consolidation of all that I despise in the modern ethnic/health food boom. I have to say, however, that this is a great product and I would like to see it spread. A whole-wheat tortilla filled with falafel, vegetables, peanut sauce, and bean noodles... mmm. I had two of these in Austin and could use about 9 more.

Finally arrived at Guadalupe Mountains National Park, had a great campsite. However, in the morning, a ranger came to tell me that I was in a tenter spot, and my vehicle was a camper. He explained that this was actually peak season and the tenter parking spots are prime. He admitted that my judgement was fine, given that there was nobody else in the tenting zone at all, but wanted me to be sure I read the signs. I really didn't see the signs, I have no excuse. I have always used tent sites to camp in, it seems if anything I am saving resources (wear on the ground and tables etc) but I do realize it would be very unfair if someone wanted to tent and i was in their space, while I could be using the RV section (which at this site was a parking lot).

The ranger told me that I probably couldn't make White Sands if I also wanted to go to Carlsbad, but he told me about an excellent spot on the way. It was not an official campsite, but an are of national forest which allowed disperse camping, this is what I am all about.

Driving out, I came to the conclusion that the Guadalupe Mountains were phenomenal, and I regret not spending more time there.

The next day I did make it to Carlsbad Caverns, which was amazing. My photos didn't come out so well due to the low light in there. The main thing which struck me is that the cave is HUGE. Very, very large open spaces.

Posted by dokodemo at 11:06 AM | Comments (0)