To Crested Butte

Well, we got into Crested Butte and went straight to the bar. I guess we missed "real" beer more than we thought. We sampled the local brew and, well..... Mer put it best "tastes like someone's homebrew." Crested Butte reminds me of Big Sky in many ways. Ten guys to every girl (on a good night) and one of those guys is a crusty old man who is too drunk to speak. Every bar in every mountain town has this guy. I was lucky to have him sit next to me and tell me where I could find everything. You want scenery he said, go here. Aspens? Go here. "Unicorns" I said. He's still stumped.

Once again we bounced the Legacy up the dirt road, bottoming out here and there, before reaching a "campsite" 10 miles off the nearest paved road. The approaching cold front and 10,000 foot elevation meant I would freeze in my bag while Mer stayed toasty in hers.

Eleven hours after crawling onto our bags we emerged from our tent. Frost was everywhere and our 5 gallon water jug was virtually frozen solid. Coffee. Pastries. Then we hit the trails.

The riding in CB is hard.

Big climbs.

Bring big views.

We missed the wildflower season, I can only imagine these huge alpine meadows filled with them, but we did catch the Aspens in full neon green and yellow.

Off to Durango (via Ouray) to see old Dallas friend Kricket.

Slick Rock Rocks

Moab is the mountain biking mecca, and the 4 wheel drive mecca, and base jumping and dirt biking and hiking and on an on. To understand the town, you must imagine all of these sports and all of the enthusiasts stereotypical personalities plopped together in the desert. It makes for a fun and slightly bizarre place. I learned a few things while I was there.

1. Slick rock isn't really slick. You can ride your bike up and down the steepest rock without ever slipping. I was an incredible rider for those three glorious days.

2. 3.2% beer will never give you a buzz. It doesn't matter how many you have or how empty your stomach is. Stick to the margaritas.

3. Watching good ol' boys in jacked up jeeps going through high water crossings is incredibly entertaining. (See video) Walking your bike across the same crossing to reach the trail is incredibly dangerous. (But rocky, technical Amassa Back trail with views of red cliff formations and the Colorado River below makes it all worth it)




4. You never know when your going to run into your college roomate. Strolling into Poison Spider bike shop to catch a shuttle, Brig was suprised to see Jim Mundell, his freshman roomate working as a bike mechanic. They had lost touch for 5 years but now of course they are B.F.F.

5. The desert is hot and dry except when we visit and it becomes cold and wet. Go figure.

Off to Crested Butte, I hear the lows are 28 degrees. Brrrrr.

Grand Canyon et al

TO SPARKS-

The times we shared were short lived, but the memories will last a lifetime. For those that never met him, you have missed a kind, caring, and adventurous little dude. Your company will be missed, we can only hope you were rescued by another traveler, someone to set you back on your path. We like to think. RIP Sparks. PS- Mer wants me to apologize for leaving you on the side of “the loneliest road.” PSS- Did I leave my shoes with you? If so, I’ll come back and get ya.


Speaking of shoes, just a few miles down the same road, we came to this. Not sure how things like this happen, I guess it just snowballs after someone tossed there (boy)friends smelly shoes.


We camped that night high above Cedar City, outside Brianhead for you MTB’ers, just off some dirt road. Refusing to pay for lodging for two weeks travel can sometimes be tough… and the cold temps and high winds almost cracked us. But we headed out early and made the short push to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. My first time here, and it lives up to the hype. We drove a long, slow 15 miles on another dirt road, battering the poor Legacy, but eventually arrived at our site for the night, a lovely little camp just on the Canyon Rim.

This morning we toured the canyon a bit more before loading up and scootin’ to Moab for some slick rock adventures.

Cheers, Brig

Downieville to Truckee

I can’t say that the joy of retirement has completely sunk in yet, but it’s the little things that make you realize that your life just might be changing for the better. We chose the scenic route from Ali’s farm to Downieville. Hwy 89 led us leisurely through the Shasta-Trinity National Forest and brought us to Lassen Volcanic National Park around dusk. The park was empty on this Sunday night and we took our time weaving past the glacial rock, bubbling caldrons and a wee black bear.

With no real schedule and darkness arriving we decided to hit a gravel road and pitch our tent. We enjoyed a quick meal of grilled farm fresh veggies on the Coleman and busted out the plastic wine glasses and Grocery Outlet $2.99 wine bottle. (Oh yeah, and the harmonica) Ahh, the great out of doors. When suddenly there came a deafening loud crash of trees and brush in the woods only 20 feet from our camp chairs. Brig yelled fiercely at what had to be a gigantic bear. I threw my wine, dropped my harmonica and was in the car with the doors locked before you could say bear. The noise stopped, I poked my head out of the car door and Brig tried to convince me through nervous laughs that it was just an owl. Yeah right. I carved out a small hole in the stuffed backseat and spent the night in the Subaru.

Tuesday morning landed us in Downieville, population 370. It's a beautiful town in podunk California on your typical pristine river, surrounded by the mandatory huge mountains. We found a bearless campsite perched on a cliff and spent the day riding the twisty, steep singletrack for which they are famous. The next morning we blew that joint to drive a whopping 90 miles to Truckee. A longer bike ride near the Boreal ski area took us past amazing views of Castle Peak and down rocky, technical and really fun singletrack.

Wednesday afternoon and we are on the “Loneliest Road in America” headed down to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon. Colorado City here we come. Under the Banner of Heaven anyone?

Ali's Farm

We’re off like a herd of turtles.

Day one of our journey covered a staggering 170 miles from Bend to Ali’s beautiful family farm outside of Medford. The farm has been in the family for just under 100 years, and strolling around the property is a step back to how things used to be. Llamas, horses, pigs, and kittens all roaming about on the 100 acres. We had a fantastic dinner courtesy of Ali and her mom from the garden followed by wine from the neighborhood.

Thankfully, unlike every other farm (and many busses we will be on in the near future) this one lacks roosters and chickens, so sleeping in was not a problem.

After another quick tour of the farm we headed to the winery to sample a few glasses and eat some home grown fruits. After our third scrumptious meal in 12 hours, we figured we should hit the road, so we did just that. Right now we’re on I-5 headed to Downieville, California (pop 325) to ride some fantastic singletrack.

The begining is near....

Well folks, I think it might happen.. Our trip around the world is set to start next week, with (drumroll please) a drive to Ali's farm in Medford. Then farther south and farther south still.

By no means do we have this whole trip planned, how could we? But for the curious, here are the basics. Two people, two backpacks, four continents, $100 (each, more or less) and exactly 43,262 miles.

From Texas we will fly into Guatemala for a few weeks, then on to South America. Thanksgiving dinner will be Chicharron in Bolivia, while Christmas and summer solstice will be in Chile. We'll goof off for a few more months before heading to Africa.

We hope to keep an updated blog, although depending on 'net connections and the thousand other things beyond our control, well it could be a while between posts. But be patient, from time to time we should have some great stories and pictures. And between posts, feel free to share with us some of your travel stories, must sees, and don't do's. And if you get jeoulous, buy a ticket and meet us for a drink.

Well, that's it for now.