Sierra Madre Range, California

Took route 101 down the coast from San Francisco to south of San Luis Obispo, where we turned east on state route 166.  166 cuts through the scenic Sierra Madres and offers sweeping views of mountains and valleys, as well as the cattle that dot its landscape.  There are few homesteads and no services (read: gas).  It's a great drive, I recommend it.  The mostly public land along 166 is a destination for four-wheelers, dirt bikes and other such off-highway vehicles (OHVs), as well as hikers and rock climbers.

Norbie loved CA 166

The plan was to find some free camping at a rock climbing spot ("Silly Rocks") that Sanch had researched on rockclimbing.com, but as many western rock destinations go, the road to the rocks was a rutted, washed-out dirt road.  Besides that, it was gated and therefore impassable.  Never fear when National Forest land is near -- just so everyone knows it is legal and free to camp in National Forests, provided you are 200 feet from the hiking trail, and not within 1/4 mile of an established camp site or shelter.  If you are car camping you should camp near your vehicle.  The dirt parking lot provided a perfect campsite this night.

 Sierra Madres

It was here that I first noticed my itchy ass, which we later diagnosed as full-blown poison oak.  We (me, Sancho, Halie) got into the oak gathering wood during our rainy camping trip to Mt. Tam back in San Francisco.  Poison Oak grows only on the Pacific coast, so naturally I'm completely ignorant to its shape and virgin to its poison oils.  You win some, you lose some.

San Francisco, California

redwoods

We visited our best friends, BFFs if you will, Marla, Halie & Ramona.  Marla & Halie live in the mission district of San Francisco, and Ramona sleeps in Oakland.

We went on a day hike to Tamalpais State Park in Marin County.  Marin County sucks, but Tam State Park was great.

Getting to the park required a drive on the twisted, shoulderless, guard-rail-less, landslide prone, cliff-hanging Route 1.  It was scary-fun.

 dipsea trail

We felt like we were hobbits or gnomes.  Everything around us was SO BIG.

giant banana slug, or little gnome hand?

frolickers

SUNSHINE

the whole gang

We had an impromptu thanksgiving feast of Quorn(R) turkey, cranberry, stuffing, gravy and apple pie.  But first we munched appetizers.  The wine flowed freely.

Eventually we thought it best to go on the Internet site "Chat Roulette."  There we made animal noises and held up my purse which is a doll's head fit into the felt body of an octopus (Octo-Baby).  Most people didn't know what had hit them, but we had a few fans.  One hipster serenaded us on the piano.  Some blonde sorority bimbos asked, "Are you guys Lesbians?  Are you Gay?"  We hollered in affirmation.

Went to Golden Gate Park.  Sanch climbed trees and several passerby stopped to take her picture and ask her questions, including me.
 

hey girl

Returned to Tamalpais State Park to camp.  This time we brought Ramona.  We improved our existing campsite and practiced stringent "Leave No Trace" principles.  By that I mean we destroyed and left no evidence of our folly.  We got soaked but spirits stayed high.

Now we're heading down the coast.  Camping somewhere on BLM land tonight, then heading to Death Valley.  Next people stop: my cousin Eva in San Diego.

Montana, etc.

Montana

Idaho

Montana, Idaho, Nevada, and Tahoe were trying.  After staying another day at the hotel in Billings to wait out the record-setting snowstorm, we trooped on.

PS - It was negative 7 degrees Fahrenheit in Billings -- so cold that when you stepped outside and took a breath, the snot inside your nose crystallized into ice boogers.
 

through Norbie's eyes

It was scary -- the worst part, worse than the nonexistent visibility and ice-rink roads, was getting passed by trucks going 75 mph.  Since plowing was minimal and at times absent, the fast lane was buried in inches of wintry goo.  When trucks flew by they pummeled Norbie and shrouded his face in a cloud of snow/ice-stuff, rendering the driver temporarily blind.  Good times.

I saw more accidents, slide offs, and jack-knifed tractor trailers and RVs than I could count.

When we reached clear roads in Nevada, we thought we were out of the woods.  But as these things go, the gloomiest woods were still ahead of us.

chain worker

At the Nevada/California line on I-80, every vehicle was checked to make sure it had either (1) snow chains or (2) a combination of 4-wheel drive and snow tires.  Norbie has 4WD, but he wasn't wearing his snow boots.  We snowed them pretty good because they let us go without much trouble.

The Donner party picked a rough spot to camp

We also snowed them a little while later at an "agricultural check-point."  Its purpose is to prevent the introduction of "non-native species" and pests that may harm plant life in the Tahoe region.  A woman asked us if we had any produce (we did), or if we had any plant materials (we did, and there was an installation of dried plants hanging above Sancho's head).  Naturally we said "no" and "no."  She let us by with a smile.

I-80 through Tahoe was concurrently the worst road conditions thus far and the best winter driving experience to date.  My (and Norbie's) confidence was up from several days driving through shitty weather (the entire length of Montana, Idaho, and a few spots in Nevada).  The speed limit through Tahoe was reduced to 30 mph, and by and large the Californians obliged.

It was great.

When we were about halfway through Tahoe, they completely shut down I-80 westbound to attend to the many accidents/slide offs.

We sat for at least an hour and a half.  I peed in front of many motorists.

shameless

Sometime during this series of events, Sanch and I decided that there must be some sort of prize for the strong who survive this.  When we came out of the mountains and reached Sacramento, the survivors were rewarded with a brilliant sunset.

 

Sacramento sunset prize

Badlands, South Dakota

Bad, Bad, Bad Lands

There's not much going on in South Dakota.  Until you reach the Black Hills on the extreme western edge of the state, it's flat.  Even the Badlands are only fleeting distractions from the immense flatness that surrounds you.  Unlike the flatness of Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota, the flatness of South Dakota seems more raw (or, less arable, depending on who you talk to) - which would explain the shift from farmed fields to fields of grazing cattle.

Our goal was to make it to Badlands National Park from St. Paul in one day (600 miles).  We succeeded.  Our only stop was at a Cabela's superstore -- the world's foremost roadside attraction.  In the world's foremost outdoor parking lot, we met a man from Ohio whose wife is from Pennsylvania.  He took interest in our license plate and our quest.  He wished us well.  We grabbed the necessities - a new Petzl headlamp, a can of isobutane/propane fuel for our stove, and a TacoBell grilled stuft burrito (Audrey).  Oh, America.  How you sustain me.

Badlands sunset

We arrived at the Bad-asslands just before sunset (which is before 5 pm - fuck).  We camped at the main campground, so as to be close to the limited selection of hiking trails in the morn.  After a somewhat fitful rest in ol' NorthFace, we were ready to hike at 8:40 am.

Juniper

We nibbled some wild juniper berries, which tasted unsurprisingly gin-like.  They were delicious but had a heinous aftertaste.  You win some, you lose some in the game of wild edibles.

A day in the life

Sancho scaled most scalable things

What the hell are these?  Only dinosaurs can tell.

The "Notch Trail" featured this bangin' cable & post ladder.  It was a breeze to ascend, but a little Indiana Jonesy on the descent.

 

 

After the Notch Trail, we hiked Castle Trail to Medicine Root Trail.  10 miles in under 5 hours - easy,  breezy, beautiful.

Sanch- -- draw this plant, plz!
 

 

Besides the rock formations, the highlight of Badlands N.P. was seeing so much wildlife.  We saw:

1) mule deer, lots of em

2) several bighorn sheep, including a ram

3) hare

4) LOTS AND LOTS OF BISON (aka buffalo)
 

 Loner at sunset

Our campground the second night (Sage Creek) was located off of the Badlands Loop Road - 12 miles down the dirt "Sage Creek Rim" road.  We shared the space with a herd of 800 bison that roam within the park.
 

 Sage Creek Campground sunset

They be grazin'

I'm not going to lie, I was a wee bit scared.  Just like my slight fear of moose -- I don't want to mess with 2,000 pound animals. Luckily, the bison we met seemed even more mild-mannered than moose. They were majestic and calm.  We humans have a lot to learn.

Morning light

After a stressful yet adventurous night (extreme winds forced us to a cramped slumber inside Norbie), we were on the road at the break of day.

We saw some more mule deer on the way out.  And lots of bison.

Wyoming was amazingly sparse.  With a population of just over 600,000, it is the least populated state in the USA.  We're talking 25 miles between highway exits.  Yeah.

As soon as we entered Montana, we encountered steady snowfall.  The first real snow of the season.  Up here in the wild, wild west, they believe that snow removal is for sissies.  No chemicals, not even sand.  Do they plow?  I'm not sure.  In any case, extreme winter conditions forced us off the road and into a Hampton Inn whose highway billboard advertised a 24-hour swimming pool and hot tub.  So I won't get to fulfill my road trip wish of not staying in any hotel/motel.  But what's a road trip without unexpected hardship?  Not much of an adventure, I say.

St. Paul, Minnesota

St. Paul is about ten miles from Minneapolis.  Together they are known as the "Twin Cities."  As cities go, they're swell.  People are friendly, bikes are abundant -- they have a bicycle "greenway" that avoids intersections by using on- and off-ramps -- and craft brews are plentiful.  All the ingredients are there except mountains.  It is painfully flat.  But to spice things up, there are many lakes.  Minnesota is "The Land of Ten Thousand Lakes" - all of which were created by Paul Bunyan and Babe, his loyal ox.

Our friend Adam is a student at Macalester College, located near the heart of St. Paul on Grand Avenue.  He hosted us at his apartment and we cooked up some good eats.

Sampling "Lake Superior Oatmeal Stout"

salmon w/ pesto & parm, scallops with some sort of delicious goo, asparagus, rice

St. Paul showed us a relaxing time.  We crashed Adam's yoga class and it felt so good.  Sanch, of course, was the only person who could stand on their head.

 macbook case

I finished the knitting project I started in Philadelphia.  It is a sweater for my laptop!  It was a bit of a bitch because my gauge wasn't quite right but it turned out well.  I adapted the pattern from a similar one appearing in Knit Wit.  (That book is not that good, don't buy it.)

I cannot express in words how wonderful the microbrew selection is in the Twin Cities.  Perhaps a picture will help.

Ale Jail

The Wine Thief & Ale Jail boasted the largest collection of awesome beer I've ever seen gathered in one place (also, all of their wines are under $20).  Tuesdays are beer tasting days, so naturally we went.  Some tattooed guy from Dark Horse Brewery guided us through a tour of five beers.  They ain't stingy with their beer in Minnesota.  And from what midwesterners tell me, they can really drink a few (dozen).  We purchased "Scotty Karate Scotch Ale" (9.75% abv).  Unlike other really alcoholic beers I've had (i.e. Victory "Golden Monkey" or People's Pint "Slippery Slope"), Scotty Karate did not taste like mead.  It was smooth and sneaky.

Another amazing/surprising bargain was Dave's Brewfarm Select Golden Lager.  Lagers aren't usually my favorite, but when some kid with big honest eyes and a huge ginger beard tells you it's good, you trust him.  And for $10.99/12-pack, it's worth the gamble.  This beer smells "normal", starts to taste "normal," but finishes totally awesome.  It rates high on the drinkablity scale while maintaining craft brew sensibility.  Would definitely buy again.

Lake Wissota, Wisconsin

Wisconsin is America's dairyland.  At least that's what it says on their license plates.  It is also known as "The Badger State."  The state motto is "Forward!"  I like.

Besides a change in the dominant tree species from deciduous to coniferous (specifically Jack Pine), Wisconsin sure looked a lot like Michigan.  In case you were wondering, both states are flat with lots and lots of farms and white people.

We drove through snow squalls and intermittent rains all day, as the temperature hovered around freezing.  The snow did not amount to much, but there was evidence of past storms requiring snowplows.

Just like in the Upper Peninsula, we had a tough time finding state parks to camp.  Salvation came when we reached the large and lovely Lake Wissota State Park.

Norbie lent a hand in shelter building.  What a great guy!

Lake Wissota sunrise

We struck up conversation with a trucker just outside of Minnesota, and now we're here in St. Paul, using Macalester College's library and posing (pretty convincingly, I'd say) as Macalester College students.  Tally ho!

Sleeping Bear Dunes & the Upper Peninsula, Michigan

We drove up the western coast of Michigan's "mitten" (aka lower peninsula) to Sleeping Bear Dunes national lakeshore.  A beauty of a spot.

Although these pictures fail to illustrate, the sands were combed like the Sahara.

A Chippewa Indian tale describes the formation of the sand dunes and the nearby North and South Manitou Islands.  It offers a curious juxtaposition of my two fears - bears & forest fires (though I think this story is about black bears, not the grizz):


“Long ago, along the Wisconsin shoreline, a mother bear and her two cubs were driven into Lake Michigan by a raging forest fire. The bears swam for many hours, but eventually the cubs tired and lagged behind. Mother bear reached the shore and climbed to the top of a high bluff to watch and wait for her cubs. Too tired to continue, the cubs drowned within sight of the shore. The Great Spirit Manitou created two islands to mark the spot where the cubs disappeared and then created a solitary dune to represent the faithful mother bear”.   - nps.gov


We camped for the first time, and boy did it feel good to sleep in old NorthFace!

Anni's quilt, besides its obvious beauty, has been a real lifesaver on this trip -- especially as the temperatures plunged to freezing in the days following.

Lake Michigan might as well be a sea.  Who decided to call them great lakes?  I guess since they are made of freshwater they are excluded from the sea category.  Well, anyways.

Northbound up the coast to I-75 and the great Mackinac (aka "Big Mac," "Mighty Mac") suspension bridge.  It is 8,614 feet long.  My dad would have loved this.

To the right is Lake Huron (our only glimpse) and to the left is trusty Lake Michigan.

Being a fan of both food and oddities, I am always on the lookout for regional food oddities.  Michigan was chock full.

Refreshing as spring - All year 'round

This stuff is great.  Based on the word "concentrate," I expected it to be really sweet.  To my delight, it was not even the least bit sweet.  In fact the only ingredients are water and sassafras extract!  I've gotta stock up.

I purchased it at a Meijer, which is Michigan's version of Wal*Mart.  Yes, Wal*Mart.  They don't need Wal*Marts up here because they've got their own.  Apparently, all the Meijer brand products are made in Grand Rapids.  Whether it's Grand Rapids via China I don't know.  According to the wikipedia entry, Meijer pioneered the concept of "supercenter" or "hypermart" in the 1960s.  Wal*Mart -- who's yr daddy?

The Original Ginger Soda

Thanks to wikipedia, I am now informed that Vernors, created in 1866, is America's oldest "surviving" soft drink.  I expected this to taste like ginger ale, which it didn't.  It was less tangy, less carbonated, and rated high on the drinkability scale.  High fructose corn syrup, you never tasted so good.

The Upper Peninsula in November is a series of desolate tourist towns.  It was hard but not impossible to find state parks that weren't closed for the season.  We finally found one on Little Brevort Lake.  It was a bit bootleg (newly created by chainsaws, with a ton of stumps everywhere for tripping over), but certainly not too bootleg for us!

At first we were relieved to see two other sites occupied by RV trailers.  Sometimes, it is nice to know you're not alone in the woods.  These woods had weird energy.  The one site had a massive trailer and redneck occupants, so we opted for a site near the smaller trailer and hoped for the best.

Here we are, hoping for the best.

Our neighbors got the party started innocently enough by blasting some Bob Seger and Steve Miller Band.  I could tell the mood was changing when the music shifted to Poison and Whitesnake.  After that, the music stopped and we could hear the howls of a domestic brawl.  Campgrounds can be cunnerman like that.  It sure makes us appreciate the solitude and safety of shelters deep within the woods, accessible by foot only.  I miss the trail almost every day.

Cooking over fire is the way to go.

The Upper Peninsula was pedaling certain foods at every turn.
1) PASTIES
2) smoked fish
3) jerky
4) fudge

Unfortunately we did not sample any.  But as friends know, I have a soft spot for pasties.  They are a good cold weather food.  Plus, they freeze well so you can eat them throughout the long, harsh winter.

Michigan really sucked us in!  Driving up the entire length of the state will do that.

Enough hanging around Michigan, Sancho.