We're Still Alive!

The Bus cautiously crept over the final ridge, signifying that the slow and methodical ascent to Echo Summit was behind us and the steep plunge into the Tahoe Basin was about to begin. We had made our way to the pass via highway 50 out of Placerville, CA, driving some 60 miles up the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada Mountains and climbing more than 4,000 feet in the process. The thick, lush, pine forests that blanketed the lower elevations began to recede as we approached the top, replaced by smaller, hardier trees, shrubs and the occasional patch of wildflowers. Snow from the previous winter clung to eastern edge of the mountains, roadside ditches and shaded forest floor, reluctant to relinquish its hold to the

spring thaw. As we rounded the last bend in the road, the Bus tilted forward, my grip on the wheel reached maximum pressure and we slowly began our descent into the abyss. Almost immediately, the forest, the flowers, the entire world it seemed, fell away and the magnificent deep blue of Lake Tahoe engulfed the windshield. To our left, the towering, chalky gray, granite spires dominated the skyline, while the land to our right had completely disappeared, dropping straight down to a valley floor some 700 feet below. Had we been casually strolling along, we could have easily wasted hours gazing into the cobalt blue waters of Tahoe, admiring the serrated peaks and lavish forests while basking in the sun’s warm rays. But with my hands strangling the wheel, Teresa's fingertips firmly embedded in the dash and both our eyes glued to the 1,200 foot free fall of a road that laid out directly in front of us, the “awe” lasted but a second. First we needed to make it to the bottom…. alive. Then we could enjoy the view.

Hello from Lake Tahoe! We are very much alive and happy to announce, the moss has been knocked off, the wheels are turning and we’re back on the road to adventure. I hope this finds everyone well and looking forward to the warm spring weathers that will inevitably blow your way. Well, where to start? It's been a long time since our last post and there have been lots of doings in between. Likely too many doings to cover in this one blog, lest it turns into a novel so I’ll try to hit the highlights and keep it short and simple (something I’m not very good at).

We spent all of February and most of March planning the next 6 months of our lives, before finally settling on a west coast swing through California, into Oregon and Washington and turning east back to Wisconsin. I had an idea of the places I wanted to touch along the route, some of which I’d been to years ago and many having never set foot in. Teresa’s experiences in the west were limited, so I was excited to show her all the beautiful places and parks that make this section of the country so special. The Sierra, Cascade and the Rocky Mountain Ranges, the coastal regions of the Pacific Northwest and the Giant Sequoias and Redwoods were all high on the list. Throw in a few volcanoes, the mountains of Montana and a few dozen of the world's greatest waterfalls and you have yourself one epic trip. All told, our trip will reach into 9 different states, stop at 12 National Parks, cover 6,000 miles and encompass nearly 4 months before coming to a rest in Wisconsin at the end of July. But before any of those plans could take flight, we had a 2 day stop in Tucson for scheduled repairs, which was where our best laid plans went by the wayside.

We arrived in Tucson on Monday April 5th knowing we had a few minor electrical issues to fix and some new house batteries to install, and expected 2 full days was ample time to complete the work. As things turned out, the mechanic found cooktop repairs, a radio on the fritz, slide and hydraulic concerns and some exterior paint issues that all needed attention. In a matter of hours, the precisely planned itinerary we had been working on for months lay shredded on the shop parking lot. Our short, scheduled layover had morphed into and extended hiatus with an unknown end date. 5 days into this trip and we were already in change mode. We had reservations and places to be, things to see, and we most certainly didn’t have time for this. Yet it didn’t matter, there was nothing we could do but be patient and wait. In the end, our 2 night stay turned into a 12 day stay spent mostly hoping that “tomorrow” would be the day we get back on the road. In the end, the Bus finally got all her necessary repairs, the bills were all covered by Newmar and the wheels spinning towards Yuma, AZ, with a new plan.

Originally, the plan had us spending two weeks in the border town of Yuma, but with the unforeseen fixes to the Bus, we were left with only two nights until our next reservation, and not wanting to further upset the schedule, we decided the 2 nights would suffice. Turns out, that was plenty of time in Yuma since this area was much like the rest of Arizona, hot, dry and barren.

But not to waste an opportunity to explore, we awoke early the next morning, drove 20 minutes to the southern U.S. border and walked into Los Algodones, Mexico. A one minute stroll through Mexican customs and you emerge into a bustling town filled with street vendors, trinket shops, pharmacies and hundreds of dentists and optical centers. When I say “hundreds”, I am not exaggerating. This town of 5,474 people, has more than 200 optical centers and a staggering 350 + dental offices, all catering to an American clientele. Craziness is the only way to describe the scene. Dozens of criers and “guides'' are all fighting for your attention in an attempt to “direct” you to the best places (places that pay them a commission for every paying customer they bring through the doors). Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on what experience you’re looking for, much of the town was closed for business because it was a Sunday. Yet, despite the limited opportunities, we managed to strike a few bargains, grabbed breakfast at a local restaurant and even squeezed in a couple of pedicures before heading back Stateside.

From Yuma, we made our way to Palm Springs and sunny California. Although the road there was dry and arid, like most everything else in the part of the country, the arrival into the Imperial Valley of the Palm Springs felt like we had landed on the opposite side of the moon. In just a matter of miles, the landscape turned from a desolate wasteland to one filled with lush, green fields and rows, upon rows of swaying palm and fruit trees. The surrounding foothills were still tinged in the dreary, brown tones of the desert, but the green valley that lay in front of us was a welcomed oasis for two travelers that had been locked in the sand and rock of the American Southwest for 7 long months.

While in Springs, we made a day trip to Joshua Tree National Park, lying just an hour east of downtown and a few thousand feet up into the Pinto Mountains. Again, more desert, more sand and more stone, but this Park does offer a unique and unusual landscape filled with

strange rock formations, bizarre looking trees, cactus and a host of other scary looking plants (seems every living thing in the desert comes with some sort of armor or spikes…). I wouldn’t put this Park in my top 10, but it is more than worth a day’s visit, with plenty of hikes and very limited people. Just make sure you bring plenty of water, because it’s plenty warm and plenty dry.

All told, we’d spent 5 days and 4 nights in Springs, but unfortunately, 3 of those days would find us huddled inside, riding out a vicious sand storm created by the Santa Ana winds. A constant 25 MPH headwind with gusts into the 50’s made for interesting days and restless nights. Blinding sand made its way into every nook and cubby of the Bus, and after two solid days of blowing, we began to feel as though we’d been transported directly into a scene from the movie Arabian Nights. Luckily, we were able to ride the storm out with some good friends we’d met while staying in Mesa. We shared a few meals, told stories, and spoiled the heck out of Molly, who was more than happy to have someone other than Mom and Dad doting over her. With the winds never ending and another reservation calling, it was soon time to say goodbye, get back on the road and point the Bus North. Next stop, the mighty Sequoia & Kings Canyon National Parks.

We pulled into Riverbend RV Park, just east of Fresno, CA around 1:00 and quickly began to get the rig set up for the week. The forecast said cold and snow in the mountains over the next few days and that meant this might be our only day to drive up and visit the Parks we’d come all this way for. But of course, life rarely seems to go as planned, a true staple of RV life. Once we began setup, we learned the main slide on the Bus was broken. We had just left the repair shop 7 days prior and now we have a broken slide that refused to extend. Frustration and disappointment were definitely in the air. We had just spent 2 weeks in the shop, now this. What about our plans? How do we get this thing fixed in the middle of nowhere? Did you know that most RV repair shops are booking out two to three months right now for appointments because of the overwhelming demand from the millions of new RV’ers?. Three weeks into a 4 month journey and we’re already on the brink. What on earth are we going to do?

So, we took a breath…. We let it go…. There is nothing that can be done…. It was a Saturday, all the repair shops were closed and the mountains were just a short drive away. So we packed some lunch, loaded up Molly, piled into the car and drove 90 minutes up to Sequoia National Park, and left all our worries in the Bus.

We arrived at the western entrance to Sequoia & Kings Canyon National Parks just after 2:30 that afternoon and almost immediately a calmness washed over me. Each time I have visited these national treasures I am struck with a primal emotion, and emotion elicited by no other place or event I’ve known. When I describe it to my wife, I liken it to a religious experience, saying “it’s my church” and the place where the world makes the most sense. These are places where the burdens of a society built upon work, and growth, and the never ending lust for more slowly fade to mist, only to be swept away on the passing winds. A place where if you sit just long enough you might hear the secrets of time being whispered on those same winds, as they gently carry your burdens up the canyons, over the peaks and deposit them in some unknown corner of some unknown place. Only in the wild and only in these places. For as a wise philosopher and great advocate for the Sierra’s once said, “into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul” - John Muir

Our time in Sequoia National Park that day was short, but full. We walked among the largest

trees in the world on the Giant Forest Loop Trail. A high mountain meadow surrounded by 250’ swaying behemoths, ever watchful over the meadow below. We hiked down and paid our respects to General Sherman, the largest tree in the world. Standing some 275 feet tall, 40 feet across, 140 feet in diameter, it is truly a sight to behold. But standing next to the tallest tree in the world is simply a postcard, nearly a million people do it every year, and most walk away having done nothing more than checking it off the list. But if you can wrap your mind around the fact that this tree has lived for nearly 3,000 years, has seen nations rise and fall, civilizations peak and crumble, and billions of people pass from the earth, and through it all, it grows…. so will your appreciation.

With the sun beginning to set, it was time to leave this place and unfortunately, it would be our only stop in the Kings Canyon & Sequoia Parks.

That evening a storm moved in, closing all the roads into and out of the park for the duration of our stay. And although the stop was short, it was a beautiful day to walk among the giants. And with the Parks behind us, our focus turned to the maligned Bus and the struggle to find some help.

First thing Monday morning, we hit the phones, hoping beyond reason to find a repair shop. With any luck, we’d find someone within a 200 mile radius and with even more luck they’d find a way to squeeze us in over the next 2-3 weeks. By nothing short of a miracle, we happened across a highly recommended shop, only 6 miles down the road, that was able to come to our site that afternoon to inspect the damage. Even more miraculously, they agreed they could fit us in first thing the following morning and if everything went according to plan…. The Bus would be good as new by the end of day. What could have been months in delays and loads of anxiety, turned into nothing more than a faint hiccup. Call it what you want, but we most definitely have a few guardian angels watching over us.

With the Bus’s problems behind us it was time to get back on the road, heading for the mighty Yosemite Valley and the next stop on our itinerary. We pulled into Yosemite Lakes RV Resort, located 5 miles from the West entrance to the park and set up camp, our home

for the next 13 days while we explored Yosemite Park and the surrounding area. The park was just about perfect, set in a high alpine meadow with a crystal clear stream cutting through the property. Tall pines guarding the meadow, while taller mountains surrounded the entire park. It was the first time we felt like we were actually camping since leaving the Tetons and oh what a wonderful feeling it was.

Early the next morning, we loaded up the Equinox (Molly included) and headed into Yosemite Valley. Now, I’ve built up this image of what I thought Yosemite was going to look like over the years. You see images and snippets of the Park and your mind fills in the gaps. The problem with that is that when you have expectations, be it of a place or an event, or a person, most times the reality doesn’t match the expectation and inevitably, we’re let down. That was partly

the case for us. I think I’d been talking up Yosemite for the past few months and the anticipation for me was so high that I half expected the white gates to open up, a giant rainbow to fall from the sky while doves and harp music played as we entered.

Well, the western entrance of Yosemite, although nice, isn’t majestic. It may have been at one time, but most of that side of the park had been devastated by wildfires over the last 5 years. The once dense pine forests that covered the land were replaced with a green blanket of undergrowth shrub and brush, while the charred skeletal remains of the once mighty pines stood in defiance. It was still beautiful, but in a much different way than my mind had envisioned. Add to that, Yosemite Valley was some 30 miles inside the Park's main entrance so after nearly 45 minutes of driving, I was starting to wonder if we had the right park. The giant peaks, the massive domes and thundering waterfalls just didn’t exist. The thick stands of old growth forests were gone and all that was in front of us were the bare mountain sides, scrubby bushes and the lifeless husks of a once great forest.

But like all things, patience is a virtue and with that, we were eventually rewarded. As we rounded a final mountain bend, the entire landscape made a dramatic transformation. Gone were the remnants of the devastating fires, replaced by tall stands of old pine and furs. Imposing granite cliff faces stretched to the blue heavens, while the rushing waters of the Merced River, thousands of feet below, were being fueled by towering waterfalls crashing endlessly down from the sky on all sides. Imagine sitting in a pitch black cave and striking a single match, only to find yourself surrounded by Picassos and Rembrandts when the warm light inevitably hits the walls. One minute, disappointment, and the next... Eden.

We would spend many days exploring Yosemite, hiking the Valley floor, its many waterfalls

and grand domes, each a unique brushstroke in the Park’s natural masterpiece. In all, we hiked nearly 40 miles of trail during our stay. We traversed Mirror Lake under the shadow of Half Dome and were fortunate enough to come within 50 feet of a grazing black bear, who paid us no attention, his focus only on scrounging up the next meal. We ventured to the top of Sentinel Dome and Glacier Point and were rewarded with panoramic views of the entire Yosemite Valley. El Capitan, Half Dome and all the falls lay out below us, too majestic for any camera to capture. We would climb 5 waterfalls, including Lower Yosemite Falls, Vernal Falls, Nevada Falls, Carlon Falls and Wapama Falls. Each of them was unique and each totally worth the effort in getting there. Yosemite Falls was a towering site, covering over 2,450 feet from top to bottom, making it the tallest waterfall in North America! Wapama Falls pales in comparison at just over 1,300 feet, but it carries a much larger volume of water than does Yosemite and if you make it to the base you can cross two bridges that bring you almost directly under the falls. Bring your rain gear or a change of clothes, because 1 second on the bridge and you’ll be completely soaked.

Vernal and Nevada falls were both on the same river and could only be reached by hiking the aptly named Mist Trail. This trek was certainly one of the more difficult trails we climbed with the trail rising 1,500 feet to the bottom of Nevada falls in a little over 3 miles, the majority of the elevation gained in a short ½ mile section below Vernal Falls. The trek was difficult, slow and wet, but both the destination and the journey were incredible as we happily followed the churning and tumbling Merced River the entire length of the trail..

We did venture outside the Park for one hike on a trail that followed the Tuolumne River up to Preston Falls. Although our intentions that day were to make it all the way to falls, once again our plans were changed, this time by a rattlesnake. That’s right, a big old, fat rattler sitting right on our path, hidden in plain sight and only noticeable when Teresa stepped on it. Well, I think she stepped on it, or damn close because when she yelled “snake”, I heard the obvious sound of a rattler and looked down to see it coiled up, inches from her foot and ready to strike. Luckily, both her and Molly never slowed and were quickly ahead of the danger, while I was pinned down by a not so happy serpent, reluctant to give up his perch. For 10 minutes I stood, stick in hand, poking and prodding, trying to persuade this monster to move to some place nicer than on the trail I wanted to cross. Eventually, I worked up the nerve, climbing a rock pile few feet to the left of the trail (lord knows how many other snakes were hiding in that rock pile), out of harm's way and back up the trail. I think those 3 steps may have been my swiftest ever and I owe it all to Coach Sisson’s quickness drills from my basketball days. Couldn’t have done it without you Coach. Needless to say, we were both a little freaked out by the close encounter and from that point on, we saw snakes under every rock, in every crack, in every hole, hiding in trees, falling out of planes, everywhere. Nerves “rattled”, we’d had enough and decided to turn around and head back. Now we just had to make it past that same damn snake again…..

Eventually, the time had come to say goodbye to Yosemite and move on. We didn’t get to see the entire park, part of it still closed from the winter snows in higher elevations. And even though we were just 5 miles outside the Park, the amount of driving required to see this massive Park is truly understated. We spent at least 3 hours a day getting to and returning from trailheads. Some days over 4 hours which makes for long days. Throw a loving puppy dog on top of that, who isn’t allowed on any of the trails, and you have a lot of logistics to work with. If you plan to visit Yosemite, I’d highly recommend trying to stay down in the Valley. There are lodges, cottages and lots of campgrounds to choose from and having an extra 3 hours a day to explore would have made a world of difference. Next time.

So here we are in South Lake Tahoe at the Tahoe Valley RV Resort just a few miles south of the cool waters. Surprisingly, I think this area is more beautiful than Yosemite. I know my wife thinks it is and I can’t disagree with her. Yosemite has much larger falls and the towering granite monoliths that make it uniquely spectacular, but the Tahoe Basin is just naturally beautiful in every direction. The waters of Lake Tahoe are sapphire blue and crystal clear, reaching depths of well over 1,600 feet. And on a calm day you see fish gracefully swimming along 100 feet down. But surround that gigantic gem is a crown of 9,000 foot snow capped peaks, alpine lakes and meadows, waterfalls, and hundreds and hundreds of miles of hiking opportunities and you have one of the truly spectacular playgrounds the world has to offer. Let the adventure begin.