Getting up to Speed

Back to Airstreaming again. We left Loreto and flew to San Diego where we picked up our Airstream trailer and visited friends and family. We visited my mother in Arizona, showed Allie the Grand Canyon and Four Corners, and now we are set up in Durango, Colorado where we'll ride the train to Silverton and back just for fun before continuing on towards home.

Finally we are in temperatures below 100F. Our last stop was in Cameron, AZ near the Canyon where the wind blows like a furnace and we run the A/C runs continuously or risk roasting in our tin can. Once we passed through Cortez, Colorado and entered into the San Juan mountain range the world turned green again. Pines and ponderosa, creeks and rivers replaced the stony plains of Navajo country, beautiful in it's own way, but untouchable. The occasional monument of weathered stone was awe-inspiring looking like sculpture or an emergent ancient skyscraper. Traveling on Highway 160 we just skimmed the edge of the valley. I know we missed a lot by scooting past, but we were weary of our days of heat and driving. We did make an obligatory stop at the site of the Four Corners and took the obligatory photo on the cement slab marking the four states' touching border: Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, Colorado.

Of course, the Grand Canyon was incredulous if not predictable as Robert and I have seen it several times. We again, took photos at the exact spot behind the Tovar Hotel that we took on our honeymoon, and at later dates with our sons. But this time our souvenir purchase wasn't an Indian craft or tee-shirt, but a book titled, "Death in the Grand Canyon," a compilation of tales of stupidity really; as in people falling off ledges while showing off or taking photos. I read the best parts out loud from Cameron to Kayenta until I finally tired of the grim subject.

The past two weeks have been a blur of geography, climate, and activities. Many mornings I awoke in confusion as to where I was. Usually, the shock of re-entering American culture after many months in Mexico is something I get to ruminate over, but this rapid sprint leaves no time to process anything. I'm functioning from memory: Grocery carts, drive-throughs, stop-lights, mall traffic, American currency, GPS programming, wi-fi hotspots, Starbucks blends, paper or plastic?, I'm regaining my fluency. But like riding a bike, it all comes back to you.

Escape to San Diego

Now my excuse is that I don't have my camera USB cable to download photos to my Mac. I'm slow to write because we are often without Internet connection. Presently, we are north of San Diego, mostly in Cardiff-by-the-Sea. Allison has two weeks off from school so we decided to follow the Brown family up the Baja to San Diego, a road trip that was uneventfully safe. They left last week, but we're here for awhile longer visiting friends and family, shopping, sight-seeing, eating. Eating. I've sampled it all to my heart's content: In-n-Out burgers, corn dogs, VG's donuts, Red Mango frozen yogurt, pasta, pizza, cotton candy, anything that can not be found in Loreto-by-the-Sea, Baja California Sur.

Yessiree. And that is just the eats. We've towed Allison through Sea World, the Birch Aquarium in La Jolla, hiking and para-gliding in Torrey Pines, (yes, she para-glided) nearly every museum in Balboa Park, two movies of her choice, and several trips to the shopping mall for all those "necessities" we've been without. At some point we will be fat as ticks and need to return to our aesthetic life in Loreto to deflate. We've spent way too much dinero; it is easy to do in the States. My first trip to the grocery store left me aghast at the price of a loaf of bread, the "good" bread--over $4.00 a loaf. I bought five assorted pastry items at a bakery in Coronado that set me back 14 bucks. And that was after $7.50 a single scoop ice cream cone earlier in the stroll.

We pulled Airstream Abby out of storage. (We'd left her in Phoenix, but our friend borrowed her and stored her nearby.) We've stayed at San Elijo State Park when a site was available and at Campland when San Elijo was full, which is nearly always. Campland in Mission Bay is the Wally World of campsites, a full service operation which adds to comfort, but the atmosphere is amusement park-like. One week was enough. Since we can't get continuous time at San Elijo we'll now be roughing it at a RV park next to the Del Mar racetrack--meaning there is no Internet, cable, or showers.

The San Elijo campground is in Cardiff-by-the-Sea, a little hamlet called along the ocean north of Del Mar with iconic eateries and cute hang-outs. We had breakfast one morning at Pipes, the favorite of surfer dudes. I love to haunt the Seaside Market, a super-cute grocery with eye-popping produce. The campground is booked solid through October. Easy to understand why--a prime location oceanside. It's also surfer central. There is even a surf school on site. At the crossroads of Highway 101 and Chesterfield Drive sits a bronze sculpture of a surfer. He's supposed to represent the heart of Cardiff surf culture, but he's been met with a lot of playful ribbing by residents who've nicknamed him "The Kook," and dress him regularly in goofy attire.

We've been hanging with our good friend, David, who lives in Cardiff, and my cousin who is in Carlsbad. She had us all over for Easter Sunday, Italian-style. She's a W.A.S.P like me, but married an Italian, learned to cook mouth-watering lasagna and command, "Manga!" My mother drove up from Mesa, AZ with a good friend for several days. The days and their events have become blurred--we've packed in so much. I intend to pack in a lot more in the week left to us.

Greetings from Jackson Hole, Wyoming!

Robert and Allison built a campfire last night outside our trailer. Of course, we roasted marshmallows. We noticed that most other campers had turned in for the night. We really are night owls. But what fun to sit under a full moon and listen to the rushing river in the distance. Other than the river the campground was silent. No radios, no generators, no people talking, even. However, we were startled a bit when we heard a cracking noise in the woods. Something was out there. I ushered Allison to the trailer, Robert close behind. He got a flashlight out and discovered two deer grazing next to the trailer. The light didn't scare them off; they hung around till we went off to bed.

We are cautious because we are in the semi-wilderness. We know that here we are guests of the wildlife. Wildlife. On our walk yesterday, we saw so much animal poop, scat, I think it's called. Of all subjects it is now animal poop that interests us. We have to get a book so we can identify it all! This morning we cranked up the generator for our very first time. Without it, it's hard to make that morning java, and I'm not one for Folger's instant. Robert and I took the standard three-minute shower, which is not as difficult to do as you'd imagine. It's all about conservation. Conservation. We laugh because we know this is not really roughing, how could it be with this awesome Airstream. We are totally comfortable.

My hardest obstacle is internet connection. We drove into Jackson Hole thinking it would be easy to find an internet cafe. I guess I asked all the wrong people because it took forever to find one. Finally, here I am at the Pearl Street Bagel perched in the corner under a scratchy speaker blaring Hootie and the Blowfish. It's hard to concentrate.

Jackson Hole is a bit like Aspen, Colorado in it's upscale tone. Great fine art galleries and restaurants. Allison was able to locate a Webkinz pony so she is thrilled. Tomorrow we plan to visit the fish hatchery and an art museum on the hill outside of town. We'd like to ride horses somewhere, as well as do a little fishing--that is, if the moose doesn't mind.

Getting comfortable

Big Pine Campground in Custer, South Dakota marks our first camp experience in the Airstream. Good choice, I say. The place is practically empty and the few campers here are so friendly and helpful. Robert's been in counsel all morning with the fellow parked next to us. Our neighbor is all too happy to share his trailer knowledge with a willing listener.

We have yet to shower in in our Airstream; we use the camp shower house which is clean, roomy, and just steps away. We have used the oven to bake cinnamon rolls and the stove top for scrambled eggs. Robert hung a clothesline between two pines. With our bath towels drying in the breeze I feel closer to being trailer trash. I like it.

Load 'er up

We leave for Colorado Thursday. We'll pick up the Airstream and head up to Summit County for a week where we can get familiar with it in an area familiar to us. I've reserved a campsite on Lake Dillon. It has no hook-ups, but the few camps that do are either booked or closed due to work related to the pine beetle infestation (that's another story for another time.)

I'm having a difficult time sorting what to pack when it comes to clothes. We will be in several different climates and seasons over the next few months, so we need appropriate clothing for each. And we'll be enjoying many diverse activities from hiking and fishing to site-seeing though cities and visiting friends. God forbid, I allow us to look like dirty, crumpled yahoos when we finally get a night out at a nice restaurant in Vancouver or San Francisco. There are no dressers in the trailer, and only one small closet. We need to plan and pack wisely. This is probably, for me, the most stressful aspect of planning this trip, because, as everyone knows, I like my life to make sense. If it's cold I want a sweater; if it's colder I want a jacket. If I'm hiking I want my hiking shoes and my backpack--oh, and maybe a windbreaker. Oh, and then there's the shoe conundrum. Can hiking boots go with a black dress? Can I justify the cowboy boots if I only wear them with the jeans and not the tennis skirt? This logic only confounds me further as I imagine every scenario in which we may find ourselves and the necessary attire and gear that it calls for. Where to stow all this crap I don't know.

However, I seem to have no problem deciding what electronic, photographic, and communication equipment to take. All my toys get to come: two laptops and printer, two cameras with extra lenses and a tripod, a camcorder, two Ipods, a projector, cell phones, a data card, binoculars, and of course all the respective cables, wires and adapters, and software. Obnoxious, isn't it? But I cannot imagine this adventure without the materials and equipment I "need" to document it. We may need a trailer to pull behind the trailer for my techie gear.

I am making a sacrifice to weight limit by not bringing a lot of reading material. (Books are heavy.) I understand that by camping we will be "roughing it" (as much as you can in a new Airstream International CCD with audio package and queen bed.) And I'll keep the weight down by skimping on the kitchen stuff. Once, William-Sonoma was my toy store back when I thought I could buy my way into becoming a good cook. But I'm prepared now to eat on paper plates and cook with inferior-grade cookware. I've packed a whisk and a wooden spoon. The rest we'll buy as needed.

My heart will not be troubled. I will learn to adapt and appreciate--two things I am good at. This adventure is self-inflicted and I intend to enjoy every minute of it.