Surf and Turf

Digging a cat hole is a learned skill and one often encounters a variety of situations upon which the hole is dug. The first hole is not the deepest. It is not the most refined. It might be a crude depression created with the heal of one's boot or it might be something dug with a piece of stick or a wedge shaped stone. Eventually one graduates to a trowel. Those who break the orange plastic cathole creator graduate to the titanium shovel. As time goes by we each encounter a variety of soils and situations and each leaves an impression. Oregon is one of the places where it has been quite pleasurable to dig and there have been several beautiful places to have a movement. 

As dry and dusty as this arid environment is, the dirt is quite easily dug and each of the past few holes have made me appreciate the soil here. If you are having any reservations about hiking in Oregon because you think maybe the high desert is not for you, do reconsider. I was never more grateful to have easily dug soil as I was when we encountered swarms of mosquitoes that could rival the biblical locusts. Moving provides enough respite to keep ones sanity, but stopping or slowing could lead to endless cursing and swatting interspaced with tiny stings on any and every available surface suitable for feasting. There are zero skin surfaces that are exempt from the constant, often kamakazee, critter bites. 

It has been a little dry and water might have become an issue had there not been a water cache, but there seems to be ample water, especially if you decide to carry a ton of it and camel up when you can. A down side to being hydrated is that you will have to pee. This is all well and good in normal hiking circumstances, but these are trying times. The ladies adopted a swat and squat method while I found some success is refining my gunslinger on the run technique. 

It also seems appropriate that this post is partially about taking a poop as sometimes a couple of hikers get together and it seems as though it is written, in an ancient cultural text somewhere, that, "When two or more hikertrash gather, so too will there be at least one conversation about going poo." It is very good to be back with my people. 

On a different note, when we were in California there was an opportunity to surf in the Pacific Ocean, but there were also a few parameters that made it slightly unappealing. The water was cold, it was an unfamiliar place, there wasn't a local friend to show me the ropes, the air temperature was 66°, and all that whining gave me a feeling of trepidation, so I knew it had to be done. Shut up little sneaky ego mind! Shut up pain body! I will do the things!! As it turns out, renting a wet suit and renting a surf board and then hiring a surf instructor to give you a two hour lesson is worth every penny. Because I was willing to override that old man curmudgeon voice in my head, I had one of the best experiences in the ocean to date.

We started the lesson on land and the instructor kept to his scripted 3 point lesson and I was pleased with his instruction. Knowing his students will only retain a bit of information, he followed the basic tenent of "keeping it simple" and before long we were waist deep in the frothy ocean water and I was shredding up the icy whitewater. The wetsuit performed surprisingly well and I didn't feel the cold of the 58° water. Knees, foot forward,and pivot... Success! I m surfing! Ok, ok, I get it, this tip will help prevent the nose dive. The shifting of weight is an essential part of the sport.

The ocean also teaches us to have better balance. Balance is one of the important lessons that Mr. Miyagi teaches. Remember him sending Danielson into the ocean and he also fished while he told Larusso to "Stand bow."  Balance in work and play, family and work, relationships etc .... The most important lessons of the ocean were still to be discovered.

When we decided it was time to get out beyond the breakers and  paddle in to catch a wave the next lesson was to "Work with the currents; don't fight them." In life we sometimes have a tendency to go against the grain or rebel without a cause. Sometimes, "we fight city hall" only to waste time, energy and resources when there is actually a better way to "skin the cat". Choose your battles carefully might be the underlying lesson here.

We observed and found that there was a bit of a rip current forming as the tide rolled back in. In the rip, there are less waves and the water has a tendency to "pull" you out into the ocean. Once out beyond the breaking waves, one only has to paddle left or right to find that the current loosens it's grip. 

Next we spent some time observing other surfers as well as the properties of each swell as it passed. 

Sometimes it's simply about being in the right place at the right time. But it's also about knowing how to find that place, and recognizing it when its happening. A keen eye and understanding what to look for are both important. The bottom of the ocean dictates the shape of the wave, and where and how it will break. So, in theory, if a wave comes along the same size as the one you just watched, it should behave similarly. Therefore the right place can be in about the same place for a little while. 

Then you start learning when to begin paddling so that you catch the wave instead of having it pass you by or have it come crashing down on you. There are many errors you can make and adjusting accordingly is something that takes several trials. 

Surfing is also about yielding to the forces of nature. When you miss a ride or you get carried just far enough into the place where the next larger waves are breaking, it's important to keep your head and know your options so you can best expend your energy. Sometimes it's better to let the waves carry you back to shore even if it's just so you can ride some whitewater in. Then you can go back out in the rip. 

At the end of the day, surfing and climbing are alike in that they are both very present moment activityies. While they are wildly different, they require focus with the goal of being in a flow state. During one activity you have to be like Spiderman, and in the other you are like the Silver Surfer. Superhero status aside, maybe it's about embracing the words of Bruce Lee who said, "Be like water." Yeah, definitely, be like water. 

Life in the slow lane

One thing about traveling in a 5000 lb vehicle powered by a 78 horsepower engine that was designed and manufactured when the speed limit on most highways was 55 mph is that you often end up in the slow lane. I often say that adventures in life are not always about the destination, but its always about the journey. Think in terms of life in general here. If we were all so focused on the destination then would anyone ever really live at all? We'd all be too focused on death to even consider living. Napolean Hill had a saying, that everybody wants to go to heaven but nobody wants to die. In Jack London's "The Sea Wolf" there is a scene where Hump is talking philosophy with Wolf Larsen. Hump had been at odds with the cook and they were eyeing each other while sharpening knives but neither man was bold enough to make a move to slash, fight or kill the other. In the end both men were cowards in that regard. Wolf states in a way that comes across as crass and sarcastic, that if one had killed the other they would only be expediting that person to eternity. Wouldn't you just be doing the cook a favor by helping him to his destination?... 

View from Pikes Peak

So, I had a small digression. No matter. The point is that cruising the highways of today in yesterday's vehicle has its pros and cons. On the bright side, when you are traveling in a relatively slow moving machine, you have a chance to take it all in. Figure it along the lines of stopping to "smell the roses" or even the parable of the tortoise and the hare. Being the tortoise with slow and steady progress is in itself a victory. This is all well and good as I often find myself traveling on what some people refer to as the blue roads. (On old maps, the back roads were drawn in blue, but today they are often thin red lines.) The secondary highways with their slower speed limits and the nice winding scenic routes they often traverse have much to offer for all the Vanagoonies of the world. Cruising in 4th gear at lower RPMs improves the vehicle's gas mileage and doesn't put too much strain on the squirrels in the engine bay. On roads like these the Vanagon is quite at home.

Though cruising in the slow lane has its merits, there are several courtesies that will make doing so more pleasurable for all those you encounter. One of my first lessons was taught by the extremely powerful (I kid) Toyota hybrid known as the Prius, and the lesson is, expect to be passed. When you drive a Vanagon, expect to be passed by others, even by the environmentally-friendly in their Prii (plural for Prius?). Accept it, and if you are on a two lane highway, I think it is good practice to occasionally put on the right turn signal, pull off to the side and wave others by. This practice will allow for fewer frantic drivers passing at inopportune times. There have been several near misses that I have witnessed even though I often do pull to the side. 

Wilson in the thin air over 14,000 feet!

Another lesson of the slow lane is that when you end up behind a heavily laden big rig (18-wheeler) that is slowly ascending a mountain pass with its hazards on, the best practice is to put on your hazards and stay in your lane. Attempting to drop down a gear and go around the slow moving monster often leads to two slow moving vehicles going neck and neck clogging up the entire road. You might think your van can pass and it is possible that it may, but the time it will take to get out and around the truck is often much longer than most other drivers are willing to wait.

The waning light plays with the fog in White River Junction

One time when I was driving up a large hill on 287 through NJ in a rain storm at night I found myself closing on a slow moving piggy-backed trailer with its flashers flashing away. I checked my mirrors and decided to take a chance. I put my turn signal on and proceeded to the middle lane. Just as the van crossed completely into the center lane, another truck that was coming full bore up the road behind me let me know I miscalculated the power of my passing gear by laying on his horn. My heart went into my throat and my van went back to the slow lane just in time to save my ass. 

Another lesson learned as I traveled across this great country of ours is that there are times when the speed limit far exceeds the capabilities of the mighty 1.9. Sometimes it is the grade of the hill you are climbing, and sometimes it is just the laughable speed posted on the highways of the mid-west, mountain-west and south-central USA. There have been several occasions where I had to downshift into second and even into first while making an ascent. It is recommended by some to keep the air conditioning off while making such ascents. The extra load on the engine will increase the likelihood of an overheat condition regardless of the vehicle make or model. That being said, Wilson has taken me up Pikes Peak, over Teton Pass, and along the Chief Joseph Highway without incident. In each of these places we have witnessed others who have had their hoods open and their engines smoking, so be safe out there. 

Chief Joseph is a beautiful winding mountain road.

In Texas, there are some two lane highways that have a 70mph speed limit. I learned quickly that if you are driving along such roads at a speed slower than 75 or 80, (which is not practical and often not possible in my van without favorable conditions such as the wind at your back and heading downhill) and you do not promptly move over for the 18 wheelers you encounter, you may find yourself being passed by said rigs on either or both sides of your vehicle depending on other traffic conditions and the size of the shoulder on the road. So, be safe out there and move over early and often.  

On Teton Pass- Yonder is Jackson Hole!

Another lesson to learn, especially when traveling in the central and north western areas of the country, is to always carry extra gas. Relying on maps and technology won't always help you if you miss the sign on the side of the road that says that the next gas station is 100 miles away. Other times you may just have to pass several exits that are spaced 20 miles apart that have small signs that read, "NO SERVICES" until you reach a tiny town in the middle of nowhere that has one store and a gas pump. Or maybe you are like me and you get distracted by conversation and forget to keep your eye on the often fluctuating needle. Whatever the case, a gas can can help get you there. 
 

Yay! GAS... oops. NO GAS!

Lastly, traveling in the slow lane offers myriad opportunities to see and do things in places you would have not otherwise considered. If its watching the waning sunlight over the small town of White River Junction in South Dakota, or having a beer in the tavern there. If its stopping on the side of the road to steal a kiss from the woman you love or if its finding the waterfall you had no idea existed, remember we likely only get to pass through here once, so make the most it!

Welcome Home

Meet Wilson

Many moons ago, in the time after I arrived home from an epic adventure on the Appalachian Trail, I yearned for only one thing... more adventure. I had conceived of the idea that having an adventure-mobile would be a step in the right direction, but I had little money, no job, and I had no idea what I was going to do about any of the challenges that lay before me. I was not out on the streets, I was not hungry, and I had a goal. Make enough money to buy the most epic adventure-mobile I had ever seen... a Volkswagen Vanagon. Not just any Vanagon either... a Westfalia camper conversion! 

Eventually fate led me to a job, which led me to another, and finally I was in a position to start saving some money. I spent hours reading posts on internet forums, and I spent months looking for a van that would suit my needs. I learned from the forums that a person shouldn't buy a Vanagon from someone who didn't own and love the van. I learned that it was not wise to use PayPal for the purchase, and I learned not to buy a van off of eBay. The posts that I read said that I shouldn't buy a van that I didn't personally inspect and that I shouldn't pay to have it shipped unless I was able to oversee the initial loading of the truck, because shipping a Vanagon could cause damage to the van while it was in transit if it is loaded improperly. I tried to follow these rules. I really did. I tried to find a van that was local to me in the great state of New York. The main problem I had with local (within a 300 mile radius) was that the vans had seen the winter conditions and the road salt of the northeast, so rust was an issue.    

I did find a really nice blue air-cooled van one day while I was riding my bicycle across NY during the summer of 2013. It was up in the Catskill mountains on the side of the road with a "For Sale" sign in the window. I took down the phone number, looked over the van while I was there and I was actually impressed with it. It had under 100,000 miles on the odometer. The paint was in good condition, there weren't any major dents or scratches, and the little sign on the window stated that it passed NY state inspection and also had an under-the-seat gas heater. The sticker price was a firm $8,000. It was a little over my budget, but maybe I could borrow some money if I had to. The real kicker for me was that it was air-cooled. The way I saw this project was that I wanted to convert the van to a Subaru engine, and the conversion from air-cooled to water-cooled on top of converting from a Volkswagen to a Subaru power plant would really just be extra work. I just felt unsure about it. I called the owner anyway and discussed the van at length with him. He was a very nice man and he did love his van. He actually felt that if he sold it he would like the new owner to keep it original. I didn't think I would be able to do that and eventually, I told him that if I came up with the money I would give him a call back, but at the time I had only $3,000 saved.  

Fast forward to January of 2014. I was eagerly searching... maybe almost frantically searching for a road-worthy Vanagon on the internet with the intent on paying between 5 and 7 thousand dollars. I searched on thesamba.com and I checked Craigslist postings and even looked at eBay a few times but always came up short. The clock was ticking. If I was going to have a road-ready Vanagon by May, when my seasonal job let me out, I would need it soon if I was going to have enough time to go through it and repair any of the systems or parts that required attention.  

Then one day it happened. I saw a beautiful looking cream colored van that was relatively rust free for sale out in Utah for sale on eBay. It was an 1984 water-cooled Westy. The sticker price was $5,995. I called the gentleman and was a little impatient when I talked with him. I was very excited and didn't want to miss out on the opportunity. The man was very nice and sent me more photos of the van and he even went to the van and started "it" so I could hear "it" run. I mean, just because a fella says he is starting the van doesn't make it so. Anyway, I asked if there were other people who had bought vehicles from him in the past that I could maybe talk to about their experience to make sure that I wasn't going to send my money to a man on the internet for a vehicle that I had no way of inspecting, and trust that this man would send me the title and eventually ship me the van.  

The man sent me some contact information for a man who he had sold a Porsche 914 to. I played phone tag with the buyer for about a week before we actually connected. He sent me a few photos of his Porsche and told me that the seller had actually put him up for the night when he went out to Utah to inspect the car and to load it onto a truck for shipping it home to Colorado. His story checked out, so I figured that I would give the fella from Utah a call back and send him some money. I was very excited! When I called him, he told me that he regretted to inform me that he had already sold the van to a buyer in Texas. Shit! 

I spent a few weeks in despair but continued the search. Then one evening, after I got home from work, my phone rang. It was the seller from Utah. Initially I thought that maybe the deal he made with Texas had fell through, but he told me that it went well. However, he did notice another van that was similar to the one he sold was for sale on eBay out of Colorado. The only difference was that the van he saw had air conditioning and the one he sold did not. I thanked him for the lead and checked out the ad.  

When I called the seller in Colorado, he said a few things that I didn't want to hear. The title was not in his name. He bought it from an Estate Sale - he had a very salesman-like attitude. I asked if he could send me photos and videos and if he could send me a photo of the title. He did all of those things. Then I asked my friends on the internet if anyone lived in Colorado Springs who might be able to do me a favor and check out a Vanagon that I was interested in buying.  

A man that I had met on the Appalachian Trail responded and said that he could check it out for me. I didn't know him very well, but figured that if the seller was willing to meet a local fella to show the vehicle, then it might not be too shady of a deal. He obliged my requests, but something still didn't sit exactly right with me. I was kind of nervous to wire $6,000 of my hard-earned cash to a man I will never meet, and hope that the van would get loaded on a shipping truck and the title would be quickly mailed to me.  

I decided that I would use PayPal in order to add a layer of some kind of protection for myself. I'm not 100% sure it would have helped much after hearing bad stories from other PayPal users but it helped me sleep a little better. The seller said that if I was going to use PayPal he was going to ask that I pay more to cover some of the fees associated with its use. I agreed to send $6,200 in exchange for a title.  

Then I looked into shipping. I tried U ship and I also searched the internet for shipping companies and got a few quotes. Eventually I found a shipping company based out of Colorado. They told me they could get the van on one of their open transport trucks sometime during the next week. They asked me to pay about $1000 and would accept cash on delivery. I had to fill out some paper work for them and fax it over to their office, and they asked for pick-up and delivery addresses and contact information for the person or persons who would be at either place. Everything was falling into place.  

Later that week, while I was at work, my phone rang. The shipping company was trying to pick up the van, but there was no answer at the pick-up location and the shipper wasn't answering his phone. I was talking with the dispatcher of the shipping company when he asked who was supposed to ship the van. I told him the fellas name and he said, "That guy owes us money." My heart skipped a beat. I wasn't sure what they were insinuating, but I was suddenly very nervous. The next 20 minutes lasted a lifetime. I had a vision of a man dressed in a short sleeved dress shirt and a crooked tie carrying a briefcase full of my money and driving down the road in "my" van. I tried calling the seller and there was no answer. I tried again... no answer. Finally, the seller answered, loaded the van on the truck and it was on its way to me! SIGH! Whew... that was close.  

When the van arrived I couldn't contain my joy. The driver pulled the van up the driveway, I payed him and I helped him back his truck up so he could get headed back in the right direction. I wasn't sure how well the van would ride. I had never driven one before. It didn't have any plates on it. The roads were covered in salt and snow and slush, the exhaust was broken, but I didn't care. I sat in the drivers seat with a giant smile on my face. My family watched as I turned the key. It fired right up. I found reverse and away I went. Up the street and back, then up another street and back again. It was incredibly fun to drive. It was loud, it was dented a little, there were pieces missing and broken, there were a few places where the clear coat was peeling, but it was mine! I was in love.  

I pulled back up the driveway. Everyone was outside cheering. There were a few people who wanted to go for a ride, but it was dark, I didn't know anything about the fluids, the condition of the brakes, the condition of the tires or pretty much anything at all in the grand scheme of things. Common sense told me to park the van, so I did. Inside there was an ice cream cake on the kitchen counter, waiting to be eaten. 

Home!!

Love him, dents and all. 
 

The next day he was sitting outside in the driveway. He was happy to be here.  Look at that smile!   


Sometimes you can do things pretty much all wrong, and it still turns out just right!