[size=large]Once an annual destination for me, it has been more than three years since I have been in Moab, Utah. March of 2014 was my last visit here to mountain bike as best I could. I can still recall all the muscle pains of the time, trying to keep up with my 20-something biking buddy. At least he isn’t here this time around… whew![/size] [size=large]
Kerri and I pulled into a location with familiar faces nearby. Three other couples (who we were hanging with in Stanley, Idaho) were already camped here and we setup camp just down the gravel road from them. Our view is 360 degrees, with Arches National Park on one side, and Canyonlands National Park on another. Not bad at all.
Within a few hours or arriving I got a text message from a guy (Ryan) who I recently met in July when they just began their RV life. As it turned out, they too just happened to be camped on this same gravel road just a few hundred more yards down. We were neighbors by chance… how cool is that?[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]The pups have been seriously enjoying the wide open spaces. Moose sits outside all day just scanning the landscape waiting for a rabbit to pop up, then the chase is on. He doesn’t win, but he seriously loves the chase.
The weather has been very dramatic. When you can see for dozens of miles in all directions, you get some good views of the rain clouds and nearby storms. Some have passed right over us, dropping some nice rain and even a few specs of hail. These gravel roads do get pretty scary after a big rain passes through.[/size] [size=large] [/size]
[size=large]We have already gone into arches to hike the trail out to Delicate Arch (at night, again) as a group. My fourth or fifth time up there, but for everyone else it was their first. When we completed the 1.5 mile hike, I stepped out to make the final few hundred foot walk to the arch itself and use my flashlight to illuminate it for everyone else. That last few hundred feet is on a near-45-degree-angle slope that drops into a bottomless pit. Kerri chose to follow me out there. I know her issues with heights, so I tried to stop her. She continued to stroll all the way out insisting that there was nothing to worry about. Enjoying the view, we sat, and only then did she realize her mistake. It took 15 minutes to shuffle her way back, on her butt, those same few hundred feet. Once she noticed the bottomless pit, her whole outlook on that walk changed for the worse. Sometimes the darkness is a good thing.[/size]
[size=large]Our final big scheduled ‘thing-to-do’ this year was this big kayaking trip. Nearly 50 miles of the Green River, flowing through the awesome sandstone canyons just North of Canyonlands National Park, over four days and three nights. It would be our biggest kayak trip ever and our longest tent-camping trip to date (two nights is our sweet spot). We were joined by fellow full-timers – and legends – Seth and Drea (and their most gentle dog, Emma) in a canoe.[/size] [size=large]
We were all a bit naive about the flow of the river. The plan was to simply float with the current the majority of the time, letting the river to all the work. We had not factored in that the river was lazier then us in many areas, with 1 miles-per-hour being the speed it cared to carry us. On our first day, with an extremely late start, we only made 7 miles on the river, and only because the water was flowing faster there then elsewhere. We barely paddled the first day, instead just cruising along with smiles stretched across our faces.[/size] [size=large]
As we entered the canyon we enjoyed our first river-beer together, immediately realizing we had not brought enough beer. The reality is that there would have been no such thing as too much beer on this type of trip. Three days sitting on the river in the sun – the more beers the better, or so we thought. On our second day we new we needed to get more miles in each day, so the drinking would have to wait until we arrived at camp each evening. Much less beer was consumed at that time as food and sleep were more important.
Our first night was spent on a lone bank of sand on the inside of a 180 degree bend, the canyon wall surrounding us on the opposite side of the water. We were lucky to have some driftwood for a fire with our first dinner on the river, and were all asleep pretty quickly after the sun had set. Partying was left for our neighbors a half-mile down river, who hoot’d and hollered well past the time we were in dreamland.[/size] [size=large]
The mornings – all but the final one – were treated lazily and leisurely. Coffee, then another round of the brew, then some breakfast, and possibly another cup of Joe would finally lead us to start packing up camp and loading it all back into the kayaks and canoe. We got moving down river at 11 AM, well after the party-crowd down river. This allowed us to pull into the spot they had camped to check out the canyon that met the river in that spot, although we didn’t stay long as we new we had more than a few more hours on the river that day… paddling this time, as we needed to get the miles in.
The second day ended with Kerri and I slightly passing our spot to camp and having to paddle back up-stream to get back to it. Not too big a deal, except that we never made it. The water became too shallow, and we were forced to drag the kayaks in over rocks and mud. The four of us spent the next hour pulling everything out of the boats (in the mud) and carrying it all a few hundred yards through the trees and thorns and up a rocky slope to get out of the cool river air that lingered at the bottom of the canyon. Up top we had an unimpeded view of the river we just traveled and got to view some of the history of the canyon as well. This was the half-way point of the trip on the miles traveled, and we were already damn tired.[/size] [size=large]
The following day the plan was to get started early, paddle for three hours and arrive at our planned camp by lunch. There we could eat, relax, and explore the rest of the day. It didn’t work that way, of course. We didn’t get moving until after 11 AM, thanks in large part to how long it took to haul all the gear back to the boats and get them loaded. When we got to our planned camp and it was occupied, so we paddled on. The next few miles of possible camps were non-existent… we paddled on. Then the wind came. Right in our face, and hard blowing. For an hour we paddled against it but still making way, still no place to camp. A few bends in the river later, the wind finally accepted we were cool enough to continue without the test. We pass two more camps, both occupied… we paddle on. It was another mile or so down the river that we finally find a place we could get out of the boats and setup camp. It wasn’t an easy place, as there was no place to land the boats, so all the unloading happened in the muddy water again, with sharp rocks and deep pockets lurking just below the surface. When it was all done, we paddled for over six hours with the sun beating down on us the entire 16 miles to get to this camp. The wind picked back up almost immediately after we setup camp.
That night we didn’t light a fire. Instead we enjoyed our sunset with a big view and the stars once the sun had finished it’s day. The Milky Way was visible and arched directly over our heads. When it came time to call it a night, there was no complaints from any of us about the early-to-bed. The wind continued and turned to rain overnight, but the tents held up. Sleep came easy, but with my air mattress deflating every few hours it wasn’t the most comfortable. The vivid and crazy dreams were the largest interruption of the night however.[/size] [size=large]
By 7:30 AM we were all up and moving, getting right to the packing up while we drank our first (of three) round of coffee. We had only six miles left on the river in the morning. They went quickly and smoothly, as every final day should go. Getting out of the kayak and back on land felt good! Our truck was already parked there (huge thanks to Eric and Jeanette for doing all the shuttling work!!!) just waiting to be loaded back up with all the gear to start the hour long drive back to camp.
We all agreed that four days to do this stretch of the river was simply too short. We needed at least two more days to be able to stop and explore areas. As we did it, we simply could not, as we needed to average more than 11 miles per day paddling. We thought the flow of the river would make that mileage easy, but we were wrong. In the end, we only got out of the boats and explored once, for less than 30 minutes. We missed a lot thanks to the short time set aside to do this. Next time we do anything like this, we will plan for half the length paddled each day, and more time to explore.[/size]
[size=large]We thought Kerri had not been to Capitol Reef National Park, and since it wasn’t that far off our planned route, we went in for an afternoon visit. We were wrong (Kerri says it was because I gave her bad information, I say otherwise) as she recognized features pretty early in our visit. I have fond memories of the park when I came here in 2010 with my son, 2011 by myself, and 2012 with my Mother. I must say, for being so far out in the middle of no where Utah, the park was heavily populated this day. No parking space was left empty, and the only place to park the truck and trailer together was a dirt lot with a lot of risk of being blocked in by other visitors. Luckily it didn’t come to that as we walked around the old farm/orchard areas. Autumn was here in force, as you can see.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]Afterwards, we chose to drive on (since we have both been here) and get closer to our weekend destination; Great Basin National Park. After a night camped roadside we arrived to the Great Basin area in the early afternoon. We setup camp a few miles North of the park, and day-tripped in. First setting up a tour of the Lehman Caves for later in the day (got the last spots available, woot!) and taking a small hike at the top of the road up to Wheeler Peak. We attempted to go see the Bristle Cone Pine grove (oldest trees on the planet, or so they say) but after 3/4 of a mile out, the trail turned to ice and extremely dangerous footing.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]No hard feelings though, we had a hardy lunch in the National Park cafe then joined the group for a tour of the caves. Lehman Cave was my first cave experience, way back in 2010. Every other cave since has had to be measured against Lehamn Caves, to most of their detriment. Lehman Caves are small, but extremely intricate. All the formations are right in your face and all around you. The trail through the cave winds and tightens among the formations, not around them. I still very much enjoy the place, even more then seven years later.[/size] [size=large]
[size=large]It isn’t often, but sometimes we moochdock at a friend’s or family-members house. In fact we have a lot of that in the next two months, but before that we stopped in to visit an old client and now friend of mine, Charlie Parker. Moose and I have dropped in at Charlie’s once in the past, just before meeting Kerri in 2015. This time around Kerri got to hang out with Charlie as well. He is a good fella with a nice street for an overnight stop on our way to the coast.
We chatted it up over burgers and beers ’till a whopping 8PM before we were forced to turn in. The party continued the following morning with a breakfast at the local eatery, then we were heading off to the coast… but not before a minor mechanical breakdown.
The previous day, on the other side of the Sierra mountains, Kerri felt some harsh grinding in the brakes. I was hoping – praying, in fact – that it was something else, but it became clear that the left-front brake material had seen it’s final day in Nevada. After breakfast we made a quick pit stop at the local auto parts store to pickup new brake pads and rotors to perform a quick brake replacement – a job that I was suppose to do three months prior. I knocked out both front brakes and rotors in under an hour on the first hard-ground we have had in months; in front of Charlie’s house.
Kerri sat back and relaxed while I busted knuckles working on her truck. It sucks having a man around! [/size]
[size=large]Kerri has a spot. A spot that she must return too when within a days drive. A place that not only causes her to break out in smiles, but for those smiles to continue infecting her the entire time she remains. The Marin coastline – Point Reyes National Seashore to be specific – is that place for her. We made sure to set a week aside to come here before arriving at either of the Family’s places, since it has been nearly one full year since Kerri got to see the Pacific Ocean.[/size] [size=large]
We dove straight into the ocean-activities. Not surfing or diving or anything like that, but oyster shucking, pastry devouring, dining, sea-lion watching, and sunsetting (not really a word).[/size] [size=large]
But alas, we did get some physical activity in; a short 2 mile hike (hey! you hike two miles in the sand, it is hard!) in Point Reyes to an old abandoned farm where I day dreamed of being lost at sea and stumbling onto the farm. I’d have been happy here, if only I cared to eat seafood.[/size] [size=large] [/size]
[size=large]I play it off that it is all about Kerri’s love of the ocean that drives me here. And while mostly true, it is also true that I too enjoy the spectacle that is the Pacific Ocean. I do not often voice my un-hatred towards anything California, but I can admit to enjoying the Pacific Coast, which is not California-exclusive I might add. I may as well get used too it though, as I will be here for many months to come.[/size] [size=large]
Earlier in the week we were off scouting the area North of Point Reyes and came across Lawson’s Landing. Previously known to Kerri as to not having a cellular signal (which means we could not camp here during the work week) now proved to have a blisteringly fast cell tower in place. For the fun of it, we made the move and enjoyed a mostly-peaceful few days parked at the far tip of the campground just feet away from the Tamales Bay waters. Also only a few steps outside our door, a small beach where the dogs and I played ball numerous times each day (they were quite insistent in fact). On Thursday the weekend crowds started arriving, and with it being the opening weekend for crabbing, it was going to get crowded.
Thursday night came, and about half the spots in our loop were not taken. Two nights prior and we were the sole campers there. Luckily, we were leaving Friday morning – early – to skip the chaos. At 6:30 AM, the neighbor’s generators were already humming away giving even more reason to pack up and drive off by 7AM. We spent the rest of the work day on a roadside pullout overlooking the ocean, with an hour long drive after work to get to our final Pacific Ocean destination before heading inland to finish off the 2017 year.[/size] [size=large]
We stayed at Ocean Cove Campground last year when we took the van out for a weekend after the repaint work was complete. The campground is just in such an amazing place with campsites sprinkled along a large bluff overlooking the waves crashing below. You really couldn’t find a more picturesque place to park a shiny Airstream (or somewhat shiny, in our case) to snap a photo or two. We got pretty lucky this year. With the campground having more occupants then last November we figured there was a good chance our favorite spot would be taken. But luck was on our side and we pulled right into what we consider the best spot in the campground. Check out these matching photos of the two rigs, a full year apart. Cool beans!
With the knowledge that we are only a few weeks away from moving back into the van, we chose this weekend to begin the purge of food and liquor from the trailer. What we can’t pack into the van, will sit unused for a year or more, so it was best to just use it now. Our cocktails over the weekend were a mix of anything imagined from the mostly-empty bottles of booze we had onboard. Far from saying/admitting that we did any excessive drinking, we were able to dispose of no less than seven bottles, clearing up a lot of space in the trailer. Just a few more weeks of that, and we can downsize into the van.[/size]
[size=large]The end of our 2017 travels that is. What was once a holiday season necessity is now part of our natural travel route. Stopping in Grass Valley, California to spend time with Kerri’s family has marked the end of our year the past three years running. This time around, I am ready for some down time. Kerri and I did some serious hauling around this year. It was my first time any real distance East of the Rocky Mountains as a nomad, and to the South (where I gained a few pounds), and to the Great Lakes, and to so many other places over the course of our year. Surely it is not the most miles I have traveled in a year, but this time around I have been feeling the need for a few weeks of sitting still to make up for it all. Thanks to Kerri’s family, we have the perfect place in the woods to hang out and settle down for a few weeks. The trailer gets to stay put while we hang out with family and friends and start the process of rebuilding Big Blue’s interior (for my 4th time) in preparation of spending the entire 2018 year (and possibly beyond) in Big Blue… more on all that soon.[/size] [size=large] [/size] [size=large]If that map interests you, take a look at my all Inclusive travel map showing all my travels since 2009. Good times![/size]
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