USA

USA-Roadtrip New Mexico bis Kalifornien

Simon — Wed, 27 Dec 2017 20:57:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part XIII

New Mexico

When we arrive in Santa Fe, we pass the 20'000 mile mark. We have been on this road trip through the US and eastern Canada for almost 5 months. We feel it. Slowly we are tired of driving and are looking forward to the end of the road.

Texas we have left behind us. New Mexico doesn't hold so many secrets for us anymore because we know it from previous trips. Nevertheless, we are looking forward to the old adobe buildings and the artsy scene of Taos. And maybe some old acquaintances.

In the wild south of New Mexico in the high steppe where cowboys and Indians used to say good night to each other, the air has already become considerably cold despite the sunshine. It is noticeably November.

From Albuquerque, the road leads further up into the mountains to Santa Fe. We have never visited this well-known small town. We make up for it today.

As expected, it is a tourist gem. Trendy cafes alternate with art galleries that go hand in hand with souvenir stores. Some of the art sculptures and paintings on offer fascinate us. They seem to have sprung directly from Native American mythology. Of course, with a generous touch of modern hippie flair.

An hour and a half north lies Taos, on the edge of the mountains where the ski season will soon begin. We've already camped here. Cold. That's why we don't feel guilty when we check into a motel for two nights.

Taos is a smaller, quieter version of Santa Fe. Decades ago, many hippies, artists, and other people with alternative lifestyles retreated here. We feel at home in Taos. The adobe facades take us back in time. At the blackboard of the local library and record store, we read about various colorful projects.

We don't visit the Hanuman temple anymore. In 2010 when we were here for the first time, we were not really interested in it either. But we would like to see the Zen priest Stan again whom we met at that time during a common meal in the temple.

I wonder if he still exists. He was already over 90 years old at that time, although we hardly noticed it. Just writing about him brings a smile to my face 🙂 If you don't know his story yet, you can read it here: Taos and the Zen Priest (the penultimate section of the report).

Later at the motel, I read on the internet that Stanley left this world less than a year ago. But the memory of him will live on in us and, I am sure, his spirit is still over Taos.

Earthships in Taos

Outside of town on the plateau plain, we check out the Earthship Museum. It consists of a showcase house where we are taught about the principles of the "Earthship" and an Earthship University where anyone can learn the craft to project management of building an Earthship.

These self-sufficient buildings are made of recycled materials, such as old car tires and glass bottles, draw energy from solar power, and are designed to make full use of collected rainwater. That means drinking water is filtered, gray water is used to flush the toilet, and black water is used to fertilize plants. Especially here in the desert, the economical use of water is an important point.

The south-facing winter garden integrated into the house allows fruit and vegetables to be harvested all year round. The clay walls ensure that the temperatures inside remain relatively constant in winter and summer.

The idea of the Earthship was developed in the 1970s by the American architect Michael Reynolds and is now a worldwide concept.

On Wikipedia, you can learn more about the Earthships.

The Hopi People

We drive on to dust-dry Arizona. There we visit the reservation of the Hopi Indians, who even today, unlike other indigenous tribes of North America, still preserve their traditions. Therefore, visiting their villages and towns is only allowed with their permission.

So we stay mainly on the highway and look at the dry expanses where rocky plateaus rise, so-called mesas, from a distance. On three such mesas, the Hopis have built their settlements.

For centuries they have inhabited this area which today lies in the middle of the Navajo reservation. They are the westernmost group of the Pueblo Indians and also call themselves Hopituh Shinumu, "peaceful people".

Briefly, we get into a conversation with a Hopi vendor who is at a rest stop advertising his and his clan's handicrafts.

He says that he and his can survive in this barren wasteland only thanks to the favor of the spirits for whom they hold their ceremonies. They do not need irrigation for their corn fields, although it rarely rains. For this, they pray and dance.

The structure of Hopi society, their way of life, and their world of spirits are extremely complex and unfortunately, I can only remember a few details. What I remember most of all is that they live in harmony with nature and although nowadays they have a small income from homemade souvenirs, they still guard this traditional life.

According to their mythology, we are already living in the fourth world, after the Creator destroyed the previous three because people became evil.

Artful carvings on a campground

See this short paragraph from Wikipedia:

The Hopi believe that in the near future the fifth age will begin because prophecies about the end of the fourth world had already come true: "the pumpkin full of ashes" is interpreted as the atomic bomb, and "the house of glass where the peoples meet" as the UN building in New York. According to the legends, it should burn everywhere on earth and begin a time of great upheavals. Only people who have not forgotten how to live with nature would survive. Multiple attempts by the Hopi to address the White House and the United Nations were ignored. These attempts to dialogue with Western culture are also part of their myths.

Click here for the full report on the Hopis on Wikipedia..

Closing the circle

Meanwhile, we continue west, back to Western civilization.

We stop only to spend the night. On a campground after the border to California, we spot snow for the first time in a long while. Brrrrr.... Quickly we move on.

When we reach the Pacific coast, everything is Californian sunshine again. Sea, palm trees, surfers. So it is in Santa Cruz, south of San Francisco, where we visit Geoff. Here he not only takes advantage of the fabulous waves but also deepens his hand skills in guitar making.

We are approaching the end of our monumental USA road trip faster and faster. Without any major breakdown, we reach after 21000 miles and 5 months the starting point of our trip at Misha and Charlie's place in Anderson Valley.

Our dear friends take us in, as they have done many times before. We feel welcome, part of the family. We still get to enjoy a few trips even once or twice on horseback but have one thing on our minds above all else.

We need, before this epic journey moves to the next chapter, to sell our faithful van. We advertise it online and on the local radio, and feel good about passing it on to a Dutch couple who have a similar journey ahead of them. Not quite as far, not quite as long. Not quite as epic.

But the beloved vehicle that has taken us on so many adventures will not disappoint them.

Wow, yes, so many adventures! The natural beauty of Washington, wild, little-noticed Idaho, Glacier and of course Yellowstone National Park, the endless expanses of South Dakota, the solar eclipse south of St. Louis, the Mississippi River separating the west from the east of the U.S., Rachelle hosting us in Detroit and educating us about the food bank, Seraina's parents visiting us in Quebec, New York, oh yes, New York.

Then that tree, that mythical creature, the Angel Oak in Charleston, deep-red Florida, Latino fever in Miami, tropical Key West.

The music capital New Orleans, the alligator swamp of Louisiana, and of course this Mississippi over and over again.

Again these expanses, this time the prairie in Texas, the natural wonders at the border to Mexico in the Big Bend National Park.

And finally the wild west of New Mexico, the Hopis in Arizona, and our family in California.

America - a wonder of the world.

By the way, I'm writing these sentences five years after our epic journey, more or less from memory. That's probably why some of the details have been lost. But if you want to hear more stories about the USA, you should listen to the podcast of the German reporter and USA lover Dirk Rohrbach 50 States where he presents stories from every single state of the US.

For us, however, the journey is not over yet. Just the chapter "Roadtrip USA". Before our departure from San Francisco to Mexico City, we are once again allowed to stay with Ben in Oakland. And because he has the same friends in Mexico as we do, we take him with us on the plane.

We are looking forward to seeing what legendary Mexico has in store for us this time!

Epic Journey 2016-18

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Epic Journey 2016-18

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East Coast bis Texas

Simon — Thu, 23 Nov 2017 18:07:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part XII

East Coast

We have passed the big cities whose names we are all familiar with. From New York via Philadelphia - Washington DC - we leave to the right - we drive south. And we arrive in New Bern.

New Bern, North Carolina.

Here we spend a night on an official campground. On the east coast, it is not as easy to camp wild as west of the Mississippi. Much more populated here, many more people and cities.

Now comes one of the highlights of this trip, at least for me. From the first time I caught a glimpse of a photo of this creature, I knew that's where I wanted to go!

It is located very close to Charleston, the capital of South Carolina. But when we arrived, we were faced with closed doors. It has been fenced off. Not to charge admission, but to protect against vandalism.

However, when ten o'clock in the morning strikes, the gates open and we are allowed to enter. Not just us; many other visitors want to see it up close, touch it, and feel it. Take pictures, that too.

She is rustic, mystical, immense. She is the Angel Oak Tree, the highest of all the angels of the oaks.

Her branches, thick and twisted, must be supported to keep her as she grows. What a mighty tree. I am beside myself with awe. Only the many people and their cell phones cloud the atmosphere a bit.

We have seen many superlative trees, including some of the oldest and largest Redwoods in California, also the 3000-year-old Cypress in Tule, Oaxaca, in Mexico, but none were like her; the Angel Oak of Charleston.

Enough of the gushing. Our journey continues down the east coast of the U.S. to Savannah, Georgia, an interesting, warm city. Many bars and restaurants attract us. We are allowed to sleep here together with other campers in the spacious parking lot of the tourist center.

Florida

And then we arrive in Florida. Finally, we are allowed to use our tarp. It is thundery. After heavy showers during the night, the sun shines from the next day on. It is the end of October and pleasantly warm.

We spend a few days on a beautiful overgrown camping site, which is looked after by, may we call them that, a hillbilly family, as it is written in the book.

Don't misunderstand, they are lovely, hospitable people. Just don't bring up politics, it won't do any good. They are convinced people.

After the cold north, we enjoy the humid jungle of Florida. Add full moon and fire, a magical combination.

In the south of the state are the Everglades. Unfortunately, a large part of the national park is closed.

A month ago, Hurricane Irma hit the Caribbean, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake. A large part of the park's infrastructure has to be repaired first.

We get an impression of the wide water landscapes of the huge park, see alligators and many water birds. We are almost the only visitors.

Miami and Key West

But now we also want to see Miami. In Fort Lauderdale, we have already stopped many times on our way from North to South America or vice versa, but at the most, we got a little bit of the sultry Caribbean air.

Well, once we drive over the Miami Beach strip, so we can tick that off as well. On the left high hotel facades and many restaurants, on the right the beach.

We are much more interested in Little Havana, where we stroll down the street to Cuban music and Spanish conversations, watch the old señores in the park playing their popular game of dominoes, and sip mojitos. Of course, we like the Caribbean flair. And so we also take positive memories from Miami with us.

Key West in and of itself was not on our itinerary. I am much more curious about the road there.

It's special because it leads over countless bridges across the Florida Keys to the southernmost point of Florida. As the crow flies, the distance to Havana, Cuba, is shorter than back to Miami.

The nest Key West is a popular vacation destination and party place with many bars and festivals, souvenir stores, and colorful people.

We especially like the sunny warmth, the Caribbean sea, the old wooden houses, gnarled trees, and jungle plants.

From here the road leads only northward, back to the other Florida. In the northern part of the state, we are in dark red America. Conservative, Trump, redneck. You know the part.

Pretty quickly we continue west. Only briefly we touch Alabama, spend the night somewhere on a free campground in Mississippi, and then reach Louisiana. The "Deep South" of the USA would interest me as well, I am attracted by almost all regions of the world because I want to gather personal impressions of the different places and people living there. But time is starting to push again. And there are more important places we want to see.

New Orleans

For example, New Orleans. The city inspires us. So many cultures and people meet here; a motley mix of smells, tastes, and sounds.

We eat Cajun Jambalaya, a kind of Paella à la Louisiana (I skip the alligator burger) visit the Louis Armstrong City Park, and go on a bar tour in the evening. Live music plays in every corner of the city. It pulsates and almost bursts at the seams with joie de vivre. And we are right in the middle of it.

One of the few times we don't sleep in our van. Not far from the center, we are allowed to surf on a couch for which we are really grateful. In the heat here it would be no fun in our tin box.

A little south of New Orleans lies the swamp of the Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve. I love nature here on the Mississippi Delta. We are surrounded by water and the creatures that live in it.

It is teeming with alligators, snakes, sea eagles, and many other creatures. We walk across wooden bridges through the swamp and can observe the alligators up close as they sunbathe peacefully.

After New Orleans, we drive along the Mississippi River to Natchez, which was recommended to us by our hostess in New Orleans. She also gave me a history book about the mighty river in which you can learn how the Mississippi was used in the times of the wild west.

Those were hard times. Bandits sought your life, waves of yellow fever took countless lives, and life on the river was not idyllic as I would like to imagine. In the book, American history is portrayed very vividly; the push to the West, and the Civil War, in which Natchez on the Mississippi played a key role.

The town is small and very quiet today. You can admire the big river that separates the east from the west and take nostalgic steamboat rides on it. That would also appeal to me. Seraina, however, is not enthusiastic about it, her desire for freedom goes beyond ships.

Texas

So we drive on. West of the Mississippi and Louisiana begins the Lone Star State, the largest state in the USA after Alaska: Texas.

We drive hundreds of miles through the plains with Austin as our destination. The city attracts us because it was advertised to us by different sources as the Mecca of live music and, untypically for Texas, as liberal and progressive.

But somehow we are not in the mood. Austin is alive, we see many young people in the streets, but we are on the road with the camper. And it's uncomfortable every time we have to sleep on the street in a city. I'd find certain cities exciting to live in for a while, to experience them more deeply by working or studying there. But not today.

Big Bend

The next morning we leave the city and go back to nature. And we find it in the magnificent Big Bend National Park right on the Rio Grande, the border to Mexico.

What a wonderful park! Red rocks, barren vastness, stony valleys, the green oasis at the Rio Grande. And again and again, this infinitely deep starry sky that stimulates our imagination. For one week we visit the different corners of the national park, hike, bathe in the hot spring, throw stones over to Mexico and cook on a lonely campsite. Lonesome, just us, the desert and the stars.

Do you know him? "Beep, beep!"

Now only the southwest lies ahead of us. We have visited New Mexico and Arizona on previous trips, so we know our way around there a bit. We are driving towards the end of our epic road trip. Not much more, only about 2000 miles separate us from our starting point and destination in Northern California.

Epic Journey 2016-18

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Epic Journey 2016-18

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New York zu Fuss

Simon — Fri, 20 Oct 2017 17:39:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part XI

The Border

We have an inkling. They will not let us in without a fuss. When we arrive at the border, our passports are checked, then we are ushered in. "Park there and wait inside", we are instructed by the US customs officer.

Nothing to be done. Inside the office, Seraina and I sit down and wait. Several people come and go, while the customs officers have us on their screen, but for the time being, they don't pay any attention to us.

It seems to us like when we wanted to enter the USA from Vancouver in 2010. They took us apart for 90 minutes. Would it happen again today? Or will they not even let us in?

A queasy feeling in the stomach. First questions are asked. Then the official leaves again and lets us continue to sweat.

It feels like hours pass until we are finally beckoned to the window. "So, tell me, where are you from, where are you going? I can't figure out your passport stamps." Not unfriendly, but demanding.

We try to explain and make a bad impression. "Stop, stop. What? From Colombia to the US, now in Canada, US again, and back to Colombia? And the car is really yours? Is this legal?"

And dozens more questions. We are put through the wringer, each question directed so that my answers inevitably raise more questions.

We are asked to sit again. And wait. "What are we going to do if they really won't let us in?", Seraina wants to know. I shrug my shoulders. It's not yet time for these questions. Wait and see.

For about two hours we have been sitting here while others are allowed to continue their journey without much commotion. Then, finally, we are asked back to the counter. "I'm turning a blind eye now. No, two. Nine out of ten of my colleagues would have sent you back..." The official next to him murmurs, "I certainly wouldn't have let you into the country."

"Make sure you get back home and stay there," the good cop orders us. "World travelers? We don't do that here."

We grab our passports and get the hell out of here. For a long while, we don't speak in the car. But the strange mood doesn't last long. After a night in green, hilly Vermont, we are heading for New York. I am super excited about the city that I have visited in so many movies.

New York, New York

We crawl through the long traffic jam towards the big metropolis. As we enter Manhattan, I notice a police car that has been following us for a while. Then the time comes. Sirens wail, and they pull us over. Inspection. Our Californian license plates have attracted attention once again.

A tall, bald cop stands by my window and looks at me through his sunglasses. His shorter colleague steps up to Seraina's window on the passenger side. A column of vehicles several lanes wide rolls past us. What do we face now? A good cop, bad cop game?

No, they remain friendly. The big cop curiously asks me about our travel plans. "What? Through the whole States and back? And then to Mexico? I'd never dare do that." I look at him, but he remains serious.

Frantically loud, a motorcycle approaches from behind. The driver is not wearing a helmet. Arriving at our height, he lets his bike roar again, swings onto the rear wheel, and casually dashes past us and the NYPD cops. What now?

"Crazy," the big bar head grunts, shrugging his shoulders. "Welcome to New York."

Across the Brooklyn Bridge, we reach Queens where we find a relatively cheap guesthouse. It is located in the middle of the Chinese quarter. The young, friendly hosts show us the best way to get to Manhattan by Metro.

A Day in Manhattan

We have come up with a plan. The following day we start in Battery Park, wave to the Statue of Liberty, and march off north, once across Manhattan.

On the way, we look at curiosity stores like the "Mysterious Bookshop" and the "Evolution Store", which has all kinds of weird stuff on the shelves.

We stroll through the Farmers Market in the middle of the city, walk through Little Italy where Tony serves us a pizza in a typical Mafia restaurant, marvel at the massive Empire State Building, Ground Zero, and countless other skyscrapers and glass facades.

Fascinated, we stroll along Broadway. The lights from the neon signs in Time Square are a spectacle. For New Yorkers quite normal but my eyes almost pop out.

From Washington through Union and Madison Square we finally reach the huge Central Park. The green lung of New York is teeming with people; strollers, joggers, vendors, lovers, shady people.... Nothing and nobody is lacking.

We walked our feet off today. Many miles are between Central Park and the southern end of Manhattan where we started our city walk.

You've got to experience New York for yourself to get an authentic impression. The miles of avenues, the skyscrapers, the various foreigner quarters, the hustle and bustle of New Yorkers. Busy everywhere. Life in the urban jungle.

We enjoy sipping our beer in the pub before we look for the next metro station and make our way back to the guesthouse. An impressive city, that's for sure. Then there would be Brooklyn and Queens to explore but we would have to allow much more time for that.

Washington DC, 220 miles away, has also been recommended to us many times. But one giant city is enough for the moment. We travel on. Finally south again. To the sunny warmth of Florida.

Epic Journey 2016-18

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USA-Roadtrip Detroit bis Halifax

Simon — Tue, 19 Sep 2017 10:27:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part IX

Detroit

In Detroit, Michigan, we have reached the 8000-mile mark; a long drive behind us, a much longer one ahead. On the one hand, Detroit interests us because it is the hometown of friends from California, on the other, the city is in transition.

The decline of the automotive industry in the city dubbed Motor City ("Motown") was just one reason why Detroit had to file for bankruptcy in 2013.

Wikipedia says that in that year, one-third of the steadily dwindling population lived below the poverty line (often African-Americans) and had a high unemployment rate of 18.2%. Between 2000 and 2010 alone, a quarter of a million of the population migrated.

Today, outside the modern city of Detroit, which resembles all other urban centers, we see many vacant, dilapidated apartment buildings, barricaded stores, and the ruined Michigan Central Station, which is now a tourist attraction.

Slowly, the city seems to be recovering. With trendy cafes, live subcultural music, and small stores, Detroit's residents are trying to reorganize. Compared to other once considered "in" and affordable cities in America like San Francisco and Austin, Texas, it is possible to live cheaply in Detroit. Sure, a lot of money isn't available to most residents anyway.

The issue of poverty in America is also on our minds when we visit the Food Bank in Detroit. Rachelle, whom we met a few days ago on the eve of the solar eclipse south of St. Louis, works there. She invited us to her place during our stay in Detroit, for which we are very grateful.

Now she's giving us a tour of her work site at the Food Bank, explaining how this 50-year-old nonprofit relief organization collects food that would end up in a dumpster, distributes it in an organized way and gives it to those in need. Nationwide, the Food Banks are networked in the states (there are counterparts of them in Europe as well), so they can distribute food specifically throughout the country, often through intermediary associations and private volunteer work in so-called Soup Kitchens.

The Food Bank building in Detroit is large. It includes a vegetable garden for children, where they can learn that food does not grow in supermarkets and that healthy eating is important.

This visit shows us once again that "having to eat" is not a given, and that people are capable of much good, especially when they connect.

To the East Coast

Our journey continues along the mighty Lake Erie to Niagara Falls, which we wouldn't want to miss while we're in the area. Touristy, sure, but gigantic, that too.

Not much further, at the other end of Lake Ontario, we find a beautiful, somewhat kitschy place to spend the night: Alexandria Bay and the Thousand Islands in Upstate New York.

We're jagged on our way, spending a night in Vermont and another in New Hampshire. Time is a bit pressing, the arrival of Seraina's parents is steadily approaching, so we don't explore these certainly beautiful states any further.

Our first and last moose we get to see so far

What's lying around in American National Forests

Wondrous Nova Scotia

Finally, we arrive in Maine, where we reach the east coast. But before that, we make a detour to Bangor.

For two reasons: First, we have to have our van repaired (the cooling system has quit). The chief mechanic Mike and his team happily get to work. We are allowed to linger in a lounge in the meantime. The door opens, Mike comes in, tells us stories about his everyday life, and grabs his guitar from the wall. He sometimes plays in bars, whether he can serenade us?

Of course! So the hours pass in an entertaining company.

When the van is ready to leave, we drive a few streets down to a house which is the second reason for our visit to Bangor: The beautiful villa is situated in a green garden, the curtains are drawn. Only a red balloon can be seen in the window. An allusion to the start of the new film adaptation of "It".

Stephen King, who has accompanied me with his monstrous fantasy for more than half my life, is not to be seen. Instead, we take a picture of his house and drive on.

Then, finally, we are at the Atlantic Ocean. We hike through green forests, visit Acadia National Park, which is very popular even in cool weather, and - how could it be otherwise? - eat lobster. Following a tip from Mike, our mechanic in Bangor, we stop at the Lobster Pound at the Trenton Bridge, where we can each choose a lobster. Been there, done that.

Canada

Out of Maine, into Canada! We are welcomed by the torrential Canadian weather. So we take a break in a motel in Saint John, New Brunswick.

The next day the sun shows up again. We drive to Shediac, where we find a drive-in movie theater. As it gets dark, we watch Stephen King's "It" from the cozy cabin of our van.

Before the movie, we chatted with a neighbor of the drive-in. He promptly allowed us to park in front of his house to spend the night. In the morning we discover a surprise on the windshield wiper; a doobie on the way 😉.

On to Nova Scotia, which really reminds us of Scotland. At Cape Breton, we reach the furthest point from California. Once across America, 11000 miles done. High five!

The weather is very moody on this wild coast, but thanks to beautiful landscapes it doesn't spoil our wanderlust at all. Unfortunately, we don't see any whales, but once again a bear crosses our path.

In Canso, a small fishing village, we enjoy a few rays of sunshine after two cold and wet nights. Before we head west again, we pay a visit to Halifax, which has some sad stories to tell (see the explosion of the SS Mont-Blanc, which destroyed a whole part of the city in 1917, and the Swissair crash in 1998).

We are about halfway through our 6-month road trip through the USA (and Canada). We want to celebrate this and the many bars and clubs in Halifax provide the perfect place to do so. 1, 2, 3, 4 beers, and then Häfiläx.

A little outside the city center we wake up the next morning in a free parking lot. I peek through between the curtains. Someone has just taken a picture of our van. He is talking excitedly to his wife.

Oh yes, it's not the first time our California license plates have attracted attention. If only they knew we are even farther from home than California. I close the curtain and doze off.

Epic Journey 2016-18

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USA-Roadtrip Yellowstone bis Chicago

Simon — Mon, 28 Aug 2017 21:48:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part VIII

We have covered almost 5000 miles since we left California. Along the foggy Oregon coast up into fantastic Washington into the Rockies in and around Idaho and Montana. One highlight follows the other. And yet it only gets better.

Like now in Wyoming, when we arrive in Yellowstone National Park. There are still timeless wonders hidden here that we want to explore.

Primal Nature and the Wild West

But we'll start at the bottom. Namely, in Grand Teton National Park, not far south of Yellowstone, which we skipped on our last trip to this region in 2010 .

The gateway to the Grand Teton is the small tourist town of Jackson. The local tourist center is highly recommended. In the town cowboys dressed up as sheriffs and outlaws are roaming around, having theatrical shootouts for us visitors in the middle of the town center.

Grand Teton National Park is rather disappointing. The sky is cloudy and foggy from wildfires raging somewhere in the Rocky Mountains. Therefore, we can only imagine the picturesque mountain massif of the Grand Teton.

Besides, the whole tourist hustle and bustle in and around the park is a bit too much for us.

Early in the morning, when most of the people are still sleeping, we find a nice hike around a lake and scare a bear on his breakfast tour.

We head back north, passing Yellowstone on the right, for now, to pay a visit to the town of Bozeman, Montana. Bozeman was recommended to us by a friend in California. Here, our van gets a nice overhaul. Meanwhile, we explore the popular Museum of the Rockies.

I am totally thrilled! I have never seen a dinosaur exhibition like this one. Skeletons and replicas of giant T-Rex, Triceratops, and Stegosaurs, a planetarium, history about the region, and much more the museum that the museum has on offer. We easily spend a few hours here without getting bored.

Next door is an old farmhouse, which today serves as a living museum. In the 19th century, the state lent large pieces of land for 20 dollars, which were yours after 5 years of living there. In this way, the government created incentives for pioneer families. They were supposed to settle and cultivate the land, no easy undertaking on this dry, hot piece of earth surrounded by "Indians".

In the farmhouse, Joice Sheppard sits at a spindle in traditional dress and tells us about the times. The ambiance fits perfectly. The whole house is furnished as people lived 200 years ago in the Wild West. We laughed along with Joice as she first mentioned how difficult it was for her to learn the spinning craft and then, to prepare for her role in the museum, had to google to gather 19th-century facts. Difficult to imagine this old woman, who seems to have come out of a history book, on the computer 😄

We loop through Montana to reach Yellowstone from the east this time.

On the breathtaking Beartooth Highway, we are caught by a rain and hail storm. It accompanies us up to Beartooth Pass at 3340 meters above sea level.

The steep mountain road and its tight hairpin curves demand a lot from our van. But the atmosphere in the cloudy mountains is magnificent, the views dramatic.

The next day we are back in Yellowstone National Park. We drive in early in the morning to avoid the tourist traffic. The time before 10 am is best. For the time being, no avalanches of cars await us, but hundreds of bison. Simply spectacular!

The longer we watch them from the roadside, the more vehicles join us. The buffalos are used to the stream of tourists and are not disturbed. But we are and continue through the park.

As mentioned, it is best to walk the countless trails to the highlights of the park early in the morning, otherwise, you will be trampled by the crowds in summer-time Yellowstone National Park. If you follow this rule, you are almost alone in this enchanted and beautiful land before our time.

Grain and Wasteland

When we finally leave the park, we enter the real Wyoming: cowboy country. Wherever the eye looks, only wide fields and pastures, ranches, rodeos, and cowboys (and cowgirls, of course). A whole different world. The food production center of the USA.

Further and further east, the route takes us through the rocky Bighorn National Forest into South Dakota, where a huge troop of bikers awaits us. Apparently, a famous biker meeting has just taken place here. As inconspicuously as possible we roll past the bearded men and women and their hot machines.

Through the Black Hills we reach the imposing Mount Rushmore Monument, where from rocky heights the four former presidents stare into the distance:

George Washington (1st President, he helped the United States gain independence from Great Britain).
Thomas Jefferson (3rd president, main author of the Declaration of Independence)
Theodore Roosevelt (26th president, he led the USA to great economic growth and development in the early 20th century)
Abraham Lincoln (16th president, he led the U.S. (Federal Union) in the Civil War in the 1860s and opposed slavery)

Even the weather can be wild in the "Wild West". We are driving on the highway towards Rapid City, the evening sun is warming, it is dry. A few hundred meters ahead, exactly on our route, we spy a gray-black curtain hanging in front of the city. One second sunshine, the other downpour, which I have never experienced before. We slow down to a few miles per hour because the windshield wipers can't handle the sheer mass of water falling from the sky. A minute later, the spook is already over.

The next natural spectacle awaits us a little later in Badlands National Park, which is home to strange stone and sand sculptures. We are just in time, August 12, to witness the Perseid meteor shower.

At a simple, free campground in the middle of the desert, we climb a rock, lie down, gaze into the depths of the universe - and count shooting stars.

Unfortunately, the weather does not play along the next day. It is gray and cold, which forces us to continue our journey. We drive through an unreal scenery, perhaps similar to the one on Mars.

After the Badlands National Park, there is nothing for quite a while. Only wheat and cornfields. And a road that disappears again and again at the horizon.

The Border from East to West

After a long drive, we reach the border of South Dakota, Nebraska, and Iowa at the Missouri River. After all the flat dryness, a new world unfolds before us: green, huge thunderclouds, sultry, warm air. We can breathe freely again. Aaah!

We follow the river that forms the border between Nebraska and Iowa down to Kansas City and there turn east to St. Louis where the Missouri flows into the Mississippi.

For the first time, we reach the Mississippi. In the city of St. Louis, it is hot, but we enjoy it, the city at the great river. From far away we can see the arch rising into the clouds, symbolizing the gateway to the West.

St. Louis is bursting with cultural and social diversity. Blues music, markets, breweries and beer gardens, museums...

In the history museum, we learn about the Civil Rights movement around Martin Luther King, and learn once again how difficult life was and often still is for many Afro-Americans in the USA. How sad and humiliating to be cheated of one's rights again and again and to be treated as being inferior. Much has improved since the 1960s, but the fight against racism still has a long way to go in the States.

We spend the night on the street in the lively Soulard neighborhood. But the hot and humid air in and around our van does not let us sleep until midnight.

Eclipse

The drive from St. Louis to the Shawnee National Forest in the south takes three to four hours. All campgrounds are fully booked, and crowds have arrived from everywhere to witness the big event.

Fortunately, we find a picnic area hidden in the forest that is still free. But not for long. Rangers come by and explain to us that normally you are not allowed to spend the night here, but today is an exception because so many people have gathered.

Soon others arrive who have not found a campsite anywhere else.

Three students tell us that they have traveled 24 hours from Texas to attend tomorrow's solar eclipse. Who knows if you will ever get the chance to see such a spectacle again.

Rachelle drove up with friends from Detroit, 550 miles away. We spend a nice evening together in a pleasant company after which Rachelle invites us to her home when we reach Detroit.

Finally, the next day is the big day. Seraina and I look for a quiet place by a creek where we can watch the eclipse undisturbed by the crowds.

It takes quite a while until the sun becomes a crescent. Then it suddenly happens quickly. A gigantic shadow covers the world. The crickets fall silent, the frogs begin to croak. For a minute and a half. The prevailing mood is surreal, almost a little eerie. But no sooner has the sun disappeared behind the moon than it emerges on the other side.

The frogs go back to sleep, the crickets continue their briefly interrupted concert. And the tourists? They go home again.

We, too, drive on. Again towards the north. We pay Chicago only a short, three-hour visit. We want to get at least an eyeful of the big city before we move on. The skyline is fascinating. Certainly, it would be an exciting place. To get to know it better, we don't have the time.

We have an appointment in Detroit.

Epic Journey 2016-18

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USA-Roadtrip Washington bis Montana

Seraina — Sun, 06 Aug 2017 11:22:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part VII

Bear

July 21, Colville, WA

Little bear here, little bear there, everybody wants to have a little bear.

Today they are choco-bears, used to be little bears.

Now they're in America, no little bears, it pisses me off.

Forget the real bears, you just have to eat gummy bears.

Stiller Has (famous Swiss-dialect band), „Bärli" (Little bears)„

Posters and people repeatedly draw our attention to the existence of bears during our journey through the forests. The grizzly bear is less common and that is a good thing. He is very big and aware of it. You can't run away from him with his over 50 km/h. Climbing trees is also not recommended. If he doesn't climb after you, he will shake the tree until you fall off the branch like a ripe apple. It is not a good idea to encounter a grizzly.

The more common black bear is smaller. He is afraid of you and if you whistle loudly, he runs away. Never, however, test her maternal instincts. As with most animals, mothers with infants become dangerous if you cross their paths to protect their young from you.

We stop in Colville. The hostess of the Discover Campground tells us that a black bear has been hanging around for a few days. For us, the color of the forest changes immediately. Behind every bush and tree we see a movement. A leaf falls from the tree: black bear. A bird: black bear. A gust of wind makes the grass rustle: black bear.

I practice whistling loudly with my fingers to be prepared. And so we set off into the woods. The place is beautiful, a stream rushes through the forest, splashes down a rock face, and gurgles on. Tall, thin firs form a sparse forest, the ground is a wild mixture of tall grasses, flowers, and berry bushes. The latter also attracts the black bear.

We follow a path in the forest, cautiously, registering every slightest movement, a bit nervous and joking loudly, warning the bear before every turn. And indeed: as we turn a corner, we see him. Behind a fallen tree. It rustles, and when we call out to him, he becomes quiet. Cautiously we move a little closer, the 50 km/h of a bear in the back of our minds. How many seconds is that for our 50-meter distance? We whistle, wanting to see the bear in full size.

Should we go closer? Too dangerous, we decide in a well-mannered way and move away slowly, as noiselessly as possible, backward, never averting our eyes. There! The bear runs away, sideways. A black bear. Thick black fur. But suddenly he changes his direction. He comes directly towards us! In fright, the body wants to run, but we stop. Pointed ears. Pointed ears? A dog's face? It is a medium-sized black dog with a stubby tail that greets us happily.

Mount Baker in Washington

Snow in July!

Seraina stalking. Are we having chipmunks for dinner tonight?

North Cascades National Park

The fascinating mountain world of Washington State

Washington Pass

Winthrop

Two days later we tackle the Highline Trail in Glacier National Park, Montana. We leave early to grab one of the sparse parking spots. Our plan is to take the bus to the end of the trail on Logan Pass to finish the hike in the parking lot. But our idea is the idea of many tourists. So they are already lining up at the bus stop. We turn our plan upside down to be able to start walking right away and to have no one tramping on our feet.

A sign warns of the bears, advises us on how to behave when encountering one, and recommends the bear pepper spray. Every few minutes you are supposed to yell and clap before each turn to warn the bear. We start walking, joking about the hikers who walk the trails hung with bells. 'I'm sure the bears are laughing at them too,' Seraina says. 'Or they are already happy to hear a bell: 'Mmh yummy,' laughs Simon. Our choice was a good one. We're all alone on the trail along a steep slope, fringed by huckleberries and young firs.

Not half a mile from the parking lot, still cracking jokes, Simon sees a cloud of dust: 'Something brown!' What was that? We take a step further and already we see the bear, looking at us in wonder. We stare back, hearts racing. A long moment passes and the bear slowly and leisurely trots off the path into the bushes, only there quickening its pace. That was a scare. 'Better we turn back, take the bus and follow the bell tourists,' says Seraina, heart still galloping wildly.

With heads bowed, we turn back. In the distance, a hiker comes toward us. We wait for her and warn her about the bear. 'A bear,' she laughs, 'a grizzly or a black bear?' She trots on, and at a pace that only leaves us staring wide-eyed behind her. We see her already lying mangled on the path as we follow her hesitantly. But the bear has gone.

We spend the next few hours clapping, singing and talking loudly. The song by Stiller Has 'Bärli hie ond Bärli da, jede wot es Bärli ha...' is number one in our charts.

So we hike through forests and incredible flower fields. There the first hikers come towards us: 'Wow, you have seen a bear. How nice for you!' Every few meters we now run into people. Our situation relaxes and we stop clapping. After a few hours we have almost forgotten about the bear and make fun of ourselves: clap, clap, remember?

The path leads along a high slope, the wide valley formed by the glacier with fir forests and meandering streams below us. In the distance the snow mountains are visible. On the other side of the path, steep rocky walls rise. We spot white mountain goats. After a good six hours, we arrive at Logan Pass and take the bus back to the parking lot.

Simon's Diary

July 28, Montana - On the road

We are heading towards Idaho, Hells Canyon, Boise, Stanley. The day before yesterday we drove the spectacular "Road to the Sun" in Glacier National Park. Many people, bears on the road.

Later we learn about the history and customs of the Blackfeet and other American Native tribes at the Plains Indian Museum in Browning.

The next day we hike ten miles around Two Medicine Lake, where we see yet another bear. This time we don't feel so queasy. Nevertheless, we circle around it respectfully and clap our hands as we do so.

Update August 6, 2017

Today we walk again around a lake with mountains in the background. We are in the Grand Teton National Park. Once again the landscapes remind us of Switzerland. However, there are differences: We have almost circled Lake Phelps when a couple jumps up a few feet in front of us and points down to the shore. "A bear, a bear!" Their voices flip over.

They wave smartphones and bear spray around in fright. Quick photo! Or better yet, spray? The little black bear is more frightened than the two and sprints up the slope. Towards the two.

Horrified, they pack their things and run off.

What you should not do in front of a bear: Run! But they are lucky. The bear is so frightened that he just runs away, too.

A few meters back, we watch the spectacle and take our bear photo.

"How many bears have we seen now?"

"Four, five? I don't know anymore."

Simon's Diary

July 29 - On the way to Boise

Yesterday we met the residents of the fire tower at 7 Devils Lookout. The retired couple spends their summers on the tower with views across the mountains and canyons from Idaho to Oregon, Washington to Montana. They keep an eye out for wildfires.

Fires are common, usually due to lightning strikes. They must be extinguished from the air because there are no roads into the region.

Idaho, like Montana, is full of horse pastures. Wide, open country, bordered by mountains on the east and west. Long, straight roads. Lots of miles to drive.

The stretch between Stanley and Salmon in Idaho is terrific. We follow tips from locals and drive to various hot springs in the area. Sometimes they are so hidden in the bush that we can't find them. Passing a ghost town, we arrive at one of my favorite national parks, Yellowstone.

Epic Journey 2016-18

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USA-Roadtrip Kalifornien bis Washington

Simon — Fri, 14 Jul 2017 08:48:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part VI

It's been a month now since we left our house in the Colombian Caribbean between the banana and mango trees. It is now bookable on Airbnb and is called, how could it be otherwise: Bananatree in the Mangovillage.

Only a month? It feels like it's been at least an eternity longer. What was it like again, building and sculpting every day? To have the sun in the sky for so long? To be full of plans and goals every day?

A month later and right today we are without a goal. Wait, that's not quite right. Our goal is to have crossed the States and Canada in two months to meet my parents in Montreal in September. A distant goal. Time feels aimless. And because we are (almost) without a goal or plan, I have decided to enjoy the days.

Our daily routine looks something like this: Driving around in our Ford van from morning to night, stopping in the evening in a piece of forest, hopefully with a fireplace (it's great that you're allowed to camp for free in the National Forest), cooking or grilling something with the gas stove, drinking a bottle of wine or an India Pale Ale, watch the fire or an episode of 'Twin Peaks' and then fly through wild dreams in the built-in queen bed and occasionally be woken up by a cardboard-and-plastic-eating mouse that slipped into the car (however they manage that).

In the morning we drink coffee, either accompanied by quesadilla-bean-eggs or if it has to be faster with toasted bread, marmalade, honey, and peanut butter (the latter of course only for me). And off we go, launching ship, exploring the world and forests.

That is definitely nice! But today I feel like spending an afternoon not driving, but stopping at a mountain lake, going for a swim, sitting in the sun, and writing something again.

This morning we went to the place where Twin Peaks was filmed. That is of course the reason why we are watching the weird series again.

We didn't meet Dale Cooper and despite the map, we didn't find the sheriff's station and the famous town sign. It doesn't matter, it's just a fantasy anyway, and a 25-year-old one at that.

The places Snoqualmie and North Bend are very beautiful. They are reminiscent of the Swiss Alps: warm now in summer, with lakes, endless fir forests, mountain peaks, and flowery meadows where several chairlifts give evidence of an overcrowded winter, children with their ski instructors and parents skiing leisurely and then enjoying a drink in the sunbathing area.

But now it is quiet. The village is in a 'summer sleep'. But it is quite different at the campsites.

A month ago we spent the first nights in Las Vegas; for the first in a long time not only surrounded by Latinos. Very different from Colombia, many more people here are overweight, and especially in Las Vegas, many are in wheelchairs, even those my age. Las Vegas attracts people from all over the world. There is no shortage of dining options. However, the casinos are destroying so many souls, which can be felt on the streets. Despair and homelessness everywhere.

I am shocked, try to understand, and am even more shocked. To top it off, I am sitting on the bus with a hospital escapee. He is wrapped in white linen with 'hospital patches' all over his chest and head. I feel like I'm in a movie. When we tell people we've been to Las Vegas, some locals shake their heads, others' eyes start to glaze over and they talk about the fun you can have there. That's Las Vegas. I guess.

We fly on to San Francisco and get into the middle of a huge parade in Oakland, a jubilant celebration of thousands and thousands of fans of the Warriors. The local basketball team is the annual champion. We enjoy the scene, despite 20-kilo luggage on our backs, the overjoyed people, all in blue and gold, the beaming superstars passing by on the floats, waving coolly to the fans. We are warmly welcomed by our friend Ben, also a Warriors fan. We go out for Ethiopian food and spend a fabulous night with him and his friends.

We take the Greyhound bus to Ukiah, about 3 hours north of San Francisco, where Geoff picks us up. We visit him for the fifth or sixth time. Since he is moving away in two weeks and it is summer, we spend a good party time in Boonville, where everybody greets each other and after a few days we already feel like locals.

Simon's Diary

July 6 - Olympic Peninsula

After two weeks in Anderson Valley (where we visited friends, redeemed our van, and prepared for the road trip) we left the day before yesterday. Via Ukiah up to the foggy Crescent City. In the middle of the city, a small music festival was organized for the 4th of July, the national holiday.

Again conspicuous: many poor people. Lots of fat people, from young to old. Outside at St. Georges Point directly at the sea, we found a free camping site. Here the fireworks were only softly to be heard.

The next day we started early. Through the cool fog, we drove up the Pacific coast of Oregon and visited an old lighthouse at the westernmost point of Oregon (the USA?).

Only in the afternoon, when we turned inland, did it clear up. After the small hamlet of "Swisshome", the sun was shining over a beautiful open valley. This time we stayed overnight at a rest stop on the highway to Portland.

The next day, this morning, we drove briefly through Portland, of which Geoff had already told us many positive things. First impression: Small city at the river with many bridges - and homeless people.

We drove further into the Olympic National Forest, an hour across the forest until we finally reached the targeted free campground in the middle of nowhere.

This is where we are now. Finally, take a break and breathe deeply before continuing tomorrow or the day after.

Full of joy and with my heart I greet all the strangers that cross my path as we drive further north. But the world is changing, many do not or hardly greet, one rather avoids the eye. Since I no longer understand this after Colombia and California because we are all human beings, I continue to greet, on purpose 🙂 .

But there are also exceptions: A gentleman who starts chatting with us in the supermarket; a family man we meet at the lake, very interested in Switzerland, who gives us donuts and beer; a local, whom we ask about the next water refill possibility, gives us his 10-liter water canister and two beers and additionally provides us with several tips for beautiful places.

Alaska is canceled. Cold is canceled and too much driving is canceled. Since we have to wait for our vehicle license to drive to Canada, we enjoy Washington State, which turns out to be surprisingly beautiful with lots of forests and lakes.

Ideal when it is summer and the sky is as blue as turquoise. We now see to it that we don't lose all our Colombian color right away and realize that it is very easy to get fat here.

Plans change. Every day. Each time we look at a book or a map. We want to take more time for all the different landscapes and regions and not just visit them from inside the car. Meanwhile, Canada is also canceled and we make plans for Idaho and the Rockies.

Simon's Diary

July 18 - Somewhere in Washington

Yesterday we met Richard in Rockport, a small village. He has been traveling through North America for 22 years and was able to give us a lot of good tips. Let's see what I remember.

West Yellowstone Village: At the end of the village drive further into the forest, past the "No Camping" signal. Good camping spot in the woods near the national park.
Something about Garber. Must be on the other side of the park.
Near Jackson in the National Forest good camp spot not far from Grand Teton National Park.
New York: In Brooklyn, you can camp on the street. For a few days at least. Along a lake?
Washington DC: Camping is possible in the north and south of the city. Free parking in the city. Super museums, like the Aerospace and the Smithsonian's Mineral Collections.

Richard is an interesting dude. He retired for the last time at 42 and has been traveling between the east and west coasts, Alaska and Mexico ever since.

We're headed for Colville today, then on to Idaho, Montana, Wyoming...

Epic Journey 2016-18

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Zu Besuch in Nordkalifornien

Simon — Thu, 08 Dec 2016 20:27:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part II

The journey can begin. It takes us about three hours to drive from Ben to Geoff. It feels like coming home. After all, we have spent quite a bit of time in Anderson Valley so far. We know quite a few of the valley's residents, its small villages, and its redwood forests.

In Geoff's small bungalow out in the woods little has changed. Geoff welcomes us warmly and we pick up seamlessly where we left off two years ago. We pop the cork and celebrate my birthday and our reunion with a fine barbecue, followed by a typical American dessert: S'mores (Some mores), melted marshmallows covered with chocolate, and crackers. So sugar on sugar with sugar. You can imagine it's pretty sweet.

But we don't want to linger long. Our van shall prove what it can do.

The following weeks we cruise through Northern California, up and down, to the coast and back to the hilly backcountry. Unfortunately, we are not always lucky with the weather. And over a thousand meters above sea level, it gets sensitively cold even here in October.

Our American car with a V8 engine keeps its promise. No road is too steep, no distance too far. Forest roads and gravel roads with holes are no problem at all. But it also guzzles gallons of fuel. Ecologically stupid, but economically affordable. At least here in America, where the liter of gasoline costs half as much as in Switzerland.

The bed is also large and comfortable. We usually sleep pretty well. But as mentioned before, it can get cold as hell at night. One more blanket would not be bad. Despite clothes, caps and wool socks we freeze our asses off again and again in the higher altitudes.

But the landscapes and the nature are like in a dream. On the way to the Lava Bed National Monument at the border to Oregon, Seraina nearly misses a bear running in front of our car. Good, she reacts quickly and brakes before we roll him over. Startled, the little one disappears into the bushes.

In Lava Bed, we get to crawl through miles of caves left by lava. Most of the time it is pitch black. I'm not too comfortable, especially when an auditorium-sized cave becomes a small crack in the rock. Fortunately, we always find our way out.

In the evenings we either camp on official campgrounds, which are private or belong to a National Park/Forest/Monument, or find a free spot somewhere in the forest.

Lassen National Park in northeastern California is magical. Of course, the similarities to Switzerland are immediately apparent: snowy mountains with lakes and fir forests in the foreground, waterfalls, countless hiking opportunities. As with everything in the U.S., the dimensions are quite different though. The vastness into which we gaze every day is simply incomparable.

Back at Geoff's and our other friends' places, it's time for Halloween. That means carving pumpkins, dressing up, and celebrating. Finally, we can serve the fondue we brought from Switzerland. Although Americans don't eat much bread (because it's not gluten-free and good bread is simply not available), the cheese fondue is accompanied by loud whoops and cheers! Surely the hot glow wine served with it also plays its part in the general enthusiasm.

Excuse me, but it has to be mentioned now. A word about the elections. As I pointed out in the two-year-old text about Anderson Valley: The world could end and no one here would notice.

So life takes its usual course even after Election Day. Still, not everyone can hide their lukewarm mood here either. Most of all, though, I hear from Ben in Oakland about the pervasive helplessness of many citizens who don't know what's happening to them. The eerie silence on the subway, the lowered stares of people in the streets, the demonstrations in many cities.

What started out entertaining in a way has now reached a climax last week. Geoff even apologized to us! I remember him assuring us three weeks ago that we didn't have to worry about Trump getting elected after the way he talked about women. Well, he wasn't the only one who succumbed to that misconception.

I can imagine two things: Either what many fear will happen and the new president will have to be put in his place by his fellow citizens. Or he behaves quite differently than expected and proves to be a correct and progressive leader who can bring about much that is positive.

I won't go into any more detail. Hope dies last. The future will show us what will happen to our world.

I have to go, dinner is calling. There is bear stew.

Road signs in America

Our faithful companions

The last few weeks we were mainly living in Anderson Valley. Now and then we made short trips into the surrounding area.

For example, we met Ben at the coast near Gualala, where his parents own a vacation home. They had the right instinct umpteen years ago when they decided to buy a piece of land so close to the sea. Today these lands are priceless, especially in California.

So we too were treated to the large, wooden villa with a fantastic view of the ocean. Of course, we didn't let the small whirlpool escape us, since we had missed visiting one of the numerous hot springs in Northern California this time. We felt like we were on a wellness weekend.

Geoff also accepted the invitation and thus got to know Ben. After all the years of visiting both of them, they knew each other only by hearsay. It was time to introduce the two of them to each other. We had a splendid time together.

We quickly realized how much we depended on having our own car here when we tried to make our way down to Oakland last week.

Geoff offered to drive us. But just on the day we were leaving, he got sick and couldn't possibly get in a car. The drive, which usually would have taken us about three hours, suddenly became two days long.

First another friend took us up the hilly road out of Anderson Valley to Ukiah, from where we planned to take the direct Greyhound bus to Oakland.

We waited patiently at the small stop on the main road with all our heavy luggage, only to be told by the bus driver when he finally came, that he would not take us because we could only buy tickets online.

Completely flabbergasted, we watched the bus leaving us behind.

Since it was the only bus today, our only option was to try a hitchhike.

Two hours later, we were about to give up when someone stopped. The man lived nearby but he showed mercy and took us the fifty miles to Santa Rosa.

At least we had made half the distance. But since it was already dark, we had to look for a motel room.

Two hours later, we were about to give up when someone stopped. The man lived nearby but he showed mercy and took us the fifty miles to Santa Rosa.

At least we had made half the distance. But since it was already dark, we had to look for a motel room.

The next surprise was waiting for us the next day. After we had walked the 1.5 miles from the motel to the bus station with our twenty-kilo backpacks, the bus driver (this time no longer Greyhound) did not want to let us get on. They did not accept our large luggage. But when we showed him how we could put the backpacks between our legs, he was compliant. We exhaled a sigh of relief. Were we going to make it after all?

"Where are you going?" he wanted to know. "Oh, you know what, you're going for free. Merry Christmas!" I made big eyes, thanked him incredulously, and sat down with Seraina. We were on the road again; you never know what the day will bring. A bit different than planned and a bit later we reached our destination.

Meanwhile, even here the coming winter can be felt. It is cold and rains very often. However, it is striking that I never hear anyone complaining about the persistent rainy days. This shows me how important water is especially here, where through the whole summer, not a drop falls from the sky.

But I wouldn't be me if the rain didn't get on my nerves after just two days. So we are both looking forward to the onward flight to the south, where we can stow the long clothes deep down in the backpack.

Our van is safely stored at Geoff's; after all, in half a year we want to come back and tour the States in the summer months.

We are excited. Because soon we want to start working on our house building project. We have gathered some ideas, made plans and drawings and of course invited all our friends here to come to Colombia with us.

Tomorrow we will fly to Cartagena via New York. We are excited about all the new surprises that await us.After all, we know, although we are pretty good at planning, certain things just can't be predicted. And that's a good thing!

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Übers Reisen

Simon — Thu, 29 Sep 2016 19:29:00 +0000

Road Trip USA – Epic Journey 2016-18 Part I

I've been thinking.

Why still travel? What's stopping me from finally living a normal life? Actually, we would have everything we need: Friends, family, a roof over our heads, always enough to eat.

I think time is of the essence. I need time. If I don't have time, I feel unhappy. If I start to forget about time, I know that it is high time to change something.

It starts with the fact that every morning at home the alarm clock pulls you out of your dreams. No time to sleep in. Maybe it makes a difference whether I curse it anew every time or whether I don't mind being woken up and even look forward to missing as little of the new day as possible. Whether I have to go to work or not. Nevertheless, I picture the start of the day to be more pleasant.

On the last evening, before we left, we discussed stress at Seraina's parents' house. That there was positive (eustress) and negative (distress).

Logically, if you are exposed to one too often, which is common in our society, you are threatened by the ominous burn-out (what does burn-out mean? Where does the expression come from? It simply means: going crazy, smoking, losing the thread). Distress leaves you empty in the evening at best.

If, on the other hand, you don't feel stressed enough in your life, the consequences are no less severe. They are perhaps more subtle, more difficult to recognize.

In his book "The 4-Hour Workweek," Timothy Ferriss wants to know what the opposite of happiness is.

No, not bad luck, nor sadness. The opposite of feeling happy is being bored. Not finding any impetus. To take each day for granted.

So what is happiness anyway? Fun? Joy in life? Yes, certainly. But it is, above all, excitement. In life, it is to strive for excitement to make it as perfect as possible. Imagine: Whether the alarm clock rings or not, you get up in the morning and await the day with excitement. Can't you already feel the smile on your face as you throw back the covers? With joy, you hop out of bed, left leg first for all I care and face the challenges of the day.

This brings us back to eustress. Don't think of difficulties as problems, think of them as challenges. They put you in turmoil, demand everything from you. But once you have overcome them and reached an intermediate goal, you feel fulfilled instead of drained.

It is similar to Thai massage. In the course I took years ago, it was always said that there is good pain and bad pain (in Thai massage, high, sometimes painful pressure is often applied to the body). The bad is the one that remains after the treatment. Not good. The good, on the other hand, is felt only at the moment of pressure on the muscle. It turns into a relaxed, painless feeling of well-being afterward. Distress, eustress.

I often wonder about one question. Some people like to go to work. Can't you face everyday life excitedly, knowing that you will soon be allowed to go back to work?

With some thought, I concluded that the question is wrong. I have to ask: Can you? Are you bored with the daily grind? Do you feel fulfilled in life? Or don't you?

Of course, it is possible to go to work with joy. But that's something everyone has to decide for themselves. And more importantly, once a decision is made, act on it. Nothing comes from doing nothing.

An apt quote on this:

There's no difference between a pessimist who says, "Oh, it's hopeless, so don't bother doing anything, " and an optimist who says, "Don't bother doing anything, it's going to turn out fine anyway." Either way, nothing happens.

Yvon Chouinard

Or as the wise Chinese knew, who wrote the following on a fortune cookie:

Many a false step was made by standing still.

Back to my original question: Why am I still traveling around the world?

Simple. The security of the daily routine bores me. I forget that I have as much time as always, feel distressed.

A knot forms in my stomach. Time to act. So, rather unconsciously, I've decided to go for eustress. Thousand times better to not know what's going to happen tomorrow than to suspect I'll still be standing in the same place a month from now. Better to achieve small goals every day than no goals at all. Carpe diem. Even if I lie in the hammock for a few days now and then, in the end, I have to pick myself up again. Life is waiting. Nothing comes from nothing.

Ready to go

Welcome back to NIMMERWO, welcome back to the US of A!

I didn't even dare to ask. But last night, over homemade pizza and California wine, the conversation turned to the presidential election. I wondered how Americans feel about the Hillary/Trump dilemma.

And I was right. Especially here in the liberal Bay Area in and around San Francisco, where the "Land of the Free" brand still counts for the most, they are loudly ranting about the candidates. "It's not only embarrassing, but it's also scary," says Ben Cooper, whom we met in Guatemala years ago and who is happy to host us in his Oakland home. It's not just sad and shameful that someone like Trump is in danger of becoming American president, he says, it's downright scary that this can still happen today, after the George W. Bush era.

He would even prefer Bush Jr. to Trump. "Trump voters don't see beyond their villages. It's not in their imagination to take a trip to Guatemala, for example, to see what else is out there besides America. They believe Trump's lies that he will take care of their little problems. They don't care about anything else, " Cooper continues. "We simply have to choose the better of two evils."

But enough of that for now. As we all know, politics leads nowhere.

I'm sitting on the couch - Ninja, Ben's cat is preening herself next to me - while outside the sun is slowly approaching the horizon and another summer day is coming to an end.

Ben's apartment is in a quiet neighborhood in Oakland, where we are fortunately allowed to stay for the first few days. But we won't have to take advantage of his hospitality for long. Our van is down on the street, ready for whatever misdeeds we want to do to it.

Robert from Berlin, who traveled here in it from New York, has already incorporated a bed into the night-blue Ford so that we only have to take care of the kitchen utensils to perfect our new home on wheels.

We plan to leave on Friday to visit our friends up in the Anderson Valley. If that's even possible, we're relaxed and excited at the same time. "I feel like I won the lottery," Seraina says with a sigh.

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Epic Journey 2016-18

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Side-Trip USA

Simon — Sat, 29 Nov 2014 17:53:00 +0000

South America Tour 2013-15 – Part VII

America

We have had enough. Fed up. Tired of Latinos. We need a break - we're going to America!
No, so it's not that bad, but we go on a side trip to the States anyway. Knowing Las Vegas, we fly to Vegas, buy a car - as we did before - and drive it to California.

Sequoia National Park is amazing! The ancient, thick trees make us shrink to dwarfs. Hard to imagine, if you are not standing directly underneath them!
Now - after we got used to American life after two weeks - we are looking forward to the Latin American countries again.

But we're happy to let this excitement drag on for a while longer. For the time being, we cruise through California in our Ford Escort - always with one eye on the mileage indicator. Because every 150 miles we have to refuel for twenty dollars. That's all we can do because the tank would leak if we filled it more than a quarter full. Somewhere this problem with the tank seems familiar to us... We discovered it on the same day we bought the car.

Replace the tank? Yes, if we ever run across a used tank for a 1993 Ford Escort. For now, a five-gallon canister should do as a backup.

Las Vegas, as it lives and breathes!

Street Art Las Vegas

Of Redwoods and Hot Springs

We first visited him here in Anderson Valley four years ago. Today, Geoff still lives - or rather, is living - here again. And he does so in a cozy little cabin under giant redwood trees. Constantly improving his guitar playing skills, he is now learning to make guitars and stringed instruments from a master craftsman with an amazing 50 years of experience. It's a complicated job that requires a lot of patience and intuition.

Geoff travels with us through the surrounding area. We meet new people and visit some of the countless natural wonders in the area.

On my birthday, Geoff has come up with something special. We hike for five hours up the Garcia River, which we have to cross numerous times. Often the area near the Pacific Ocean is shrouded in thick fog. Today, however, a dark blue sky delights us. Nevertheless, the sun is already quite steep in the sky in autumn, and likes to hide behind the high trees.

It doesn't matter, because we certainly won't be cold at our destination, although the nights will be much fresher. We are in a magical place. A hundred years ago, a resort was located here. Hard to believe, as inaccessible as the terrain is.

The resort is long forgotten today. The Hot Springs, however, have remained for our enjoyment. Not a soul is here tonight. We have them all to ourselves. Refreshed by the cool air and cold water of the Garcia River, I dive - slowly getting used to the drastic temperature change - into one of the natural pools filled with steaming water. Aaaaahhh - truly a relief! At this moment, all the problems of the world are forgotten. Only one worry I have: better not fall asleep in here!

Thought spirals

A little later Geoff wakes me up from my spiral of thoughts. We talk about good old times when we met in New Zealand eight years ago, about the trip with friends in the car through Europe to Morocco, the time we spent together in Berlin, London and Ireland, the lake around the island of Ometepe in Nicaragua.

I've been on the road for almost ten years - with numerous stops at home in Switzerland - sometimes not quite sure what I'm looking for, whether I just don't have anything better to do, where this traveling is supposed to lead.

In the beginning, it was mainly the fun of traveling, getting to know new and unknown things and finally being able to just do and not do what I want that spurred me on to this lifestyle.

Now, thirty-one years old, with so many lives coming to a crossroads, I pat myself on the back. I am glad I chose this path out of all the possible ones. Even today, I still enjoy traveling. It may not be as much of a priority as it once was. Traveling can be exhausting and tiring, always traveling to new countries is not as new anymore, and more and more I notice the similarities of people and nations on our small planet.

The mightiest trees in the world

Nevertheless: My journey - my life - is far from over. I know, I am still on a search. But even this is no longer so important. Knowing and especially being able to accept that everything happens in its own time helps me to focus on what is important: To feel good in my life, to pass on this well-being to the people around me, to help, to learn, and to teach.

This sounds like cheesy esoteric stuff out of the self-help corner of a library. But I think if more people lived these thoughts, we would all be happier.

After a long while I open my eyes again, see Seraina dreaming in her hot pool and Geoff cooling down in the river with a loud "Wuhuhuhu!" and I smile. All is well. If only I could share this moment with more people! But no, I'd rather not, it would be too crowded here. Three of us - perfect!
Everything is just as it should be.

Life in Anderson Valley

The vast majority of our time in California, we spent in Anderson Valley. To put it briefly: The world could end, and no one would notice in Anderson Valley.

Only through the radio do we hear daily from the outside world about the stumbling Obama and his politicians. "War on Isis, war on Ebola... war on the entire world. You know, that's why I love living out here. Here they leave you alone and you can worry about the things that are important to you," Geoff tells me.

The people here in the valley, which is separated from the Pacific Ocean by a mountain range, a so-called "ridge", which is why there is a very unique, mostly dry climate here, almost all know each other, either personally or around a few corners. People live together here like one big family, a commune that cares for its fellow human beings. We experience stories here that make us believe in true - what's the word again? - Charity.

One of our good friends, whose family has lived in the valley for generations, had a nasty work accident last spring in which he suffered a compound fracture of the jaw and skull. Surgeries are an almost unaffordable affair, especially in the States. And we all know about the state of health care in the U.S. - "health care" is a pretty lofty term here.

That's why his girlfriend started a fundraising campaign on the local radio to collect tens of thousands of dollars to repair his face. Today, he is still missing many teeth, but he can laugh again.

The sudden death of a universally loved person in the Anderson Valley and good friend of Geoff's - and ours - depresses our spirits. Although sad, people come together after the funeral - there must be more than a hundred people, we later learn - to celebrate her life.

Most people here live rather simply - except the rich winegrowers. Although many have little money, they manage to live contentedly. Sometimes people exchange work for other services, such as rent, food, yoga classes. People cultivate their vegetable gardens. Small amounts of money often circulate only in the valley. You help each other out.

Ecological awareness is pretty high. For example, in Northern California you hardly see plastic bags anymore - in contrast to Latin America, which seems to be made of plastic -, organic food can always be found everywhere, people produce their electricity needs with solar panels, etc.

Only one thing remains somewhat paradoxical: Americans still love their big cars, gas is cheaper than in almost any other country, the public transportation network is sparse, and the distances people drive almost every day are long.

Halloween in California

Nevertheless, I am impressed by the sense of community and togetherness experienced here, which I hardly know as a young, Swiss individual. Yes, the Americans also have their good sides.

South America Tour 2013-15

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South America Tour 2013-15

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