Category: Travel

Deep in the Heart of Texas

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This year we returned to Big Bend National Park for a few days of camping in Olly. On the way out we stopped over in Del Rio to visit Melina’s parents. The trip was uneventful with the exception of picking up a speeding ticket in Bracketville. Yes, a speeding ticket in a VW Vanagon.

We arrived in the park the next day to find it full because, for whatever reason, the entire state of Texas has Spring Break all in the same week. Since both Plan A (campground campsite) and Plan B (backcountry roadside campsite) fell through, we were forced to look outside the park. I wasn’t terribly worried since there’s a number of RV parks in neighboring areas, plus there’s the State Park nearby as well.

Ultimately we settled in a bare bones RV park just east of Study Butte. That’s the nice thing about camping in the Vanagon: close the curtains and you can grab a night’s sleep just about anywhere. At any rate, staying outside the park turned out to be a good thing. Since we were so close to Terlingua, we decided to hop over to the Starlight Theatre for dinner. Performing on the night we were there were Markley and Balmer, a singer-songwriter duo with a flair for jazzy chordings. The food was delicious, and the music was a treat. When we were done, we went back to our campsite, popped the top, and settled in for the night.

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We had decided to try our luck at getting a campsite in Big Bend, so the next morning we got up early and headed to the Cottonwood campground. As luck had it, a couple spots had opened up as we arrived, so we pulled in and staked our claim for the next few days. The campground was quiet (generators not allowed!) and spacious. It also has limited water resources, but fortunately we had filled Olly’s freshwater tank up at the Chisos Basin campground the previous day. After setting up our new Bus Depot Ezy Awning we dug in and did absolutely nothing. Well, Melina turned a few pages in a book, but for me even closing my eyes was too much work, so I did it once and then kept them shut.

IMG_9194That night the stars were proverbially big and bright. I tried to do a bit of astronomical photography on a dying camera battery. Sadly, the 40D isn’t cut out for night time photography, but it was fun nonetheless. The moon sank early and the sky was clear. It is always wonderful to see the Milky Way be the dominant feature of the sky.

IMG_9253The next day we were much more ambitious. After a brief bike ride to the nearby concessions store for a bag of ice, we took a longer ride from the campground down to the Santa Elena Canyon River Access where we had a picnic lunch. The Rio Grande was very low, and neither grand nor much of a river, to be honest. On the way back to the campground, Melina decided to try out not one, but two flat tires on her bike. I had one spare tube, and switched out her rear wheel for my good one so that she could ride home with relative ease. Never let it be said that chivalry is dead. Although after pedaling about four hilly miles on a flat tire I nearly was.

IMG_2287In the morning we tore down the campsite and took Olly up the Old Maverick Road to the ruins of Terlingua Abajo. The town was a small agricultural village inhabited in the first decades of the twentieth century. Now it is nothing more than the tumbled piles of stones and bricks where walls once stood, and a few graves to mark the lives that were spent there. We ate lunch at Cantina Abajo (wonderful views) and then climbed up the ridge that stands behind the town. Along the way we found lizards, butterflies, and blue bonnets. Later Olly took us back to the campsite. Melina made some tasty burritos (as always) and we lazed about through the afternoon.

On Friday we packed up our gear and headed back to civilization via a brief layover in Del Rio. Barring the flat tires on the bikes, the trip was without incident, which is pretty cool considering it was done in a vehicle that’s nearly a quarter century old. The Bostig engine plays no small part in that, and I can’t praise it highly enough. Our food was good and we received many waves and praises for our “cool van.” My only disappointment was that I didn’t see even one other Vanagon or Microbus on the road.

There’s more pictures. And video, too.

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Butterflies and Jellyfish

Mustang Island State Park, located on one of the Texas barrier islands in the Gulf of Mexico. According to propoganda provided by the TPWD, hundreds of wild horses once roamed the island. They are no more, but have been evolutionarily replaced by jellyfish and sand crabs, which we did observe in quantity.

The van drove wonderfully, despite the onslaught of a million butterflies bent on the complete obfuscation of our windshield. Once at the park we set up camp and ate leftover chili. Bedtime came early, but the strong breeze coming off the Gulf made for cool sleeping. Saturday saw us watching the sunrise, reading, napping, wandering, and dodging jellyfish. The breeze became more gusty as the day wore on, leaving a gritty film of salt on everything.

The park was nevertheless pleasant, largely because the human element was sparse. The campsites on either side of us, as well as many others throughout the campground, were vacant. I wouldn’t dare go to the park in July or August for fear of the herds of beach goers, but October is definitely acceptable. I suspect that January or February might be a bit cold temperature-wise, but would otherwise be delightful.

Perhaps you’d like to see some pictures.

Leaving on a Jet Plane (Archive)

Edit: This post originally appeared on my Blogspot blog.

(Houston, Texas) I’m sitting here in Hobby Airport waiting for my 1:00 departure, and apparently whoever is in charge of the sound system has put on a John Denver playlist. I’m not sure what is scarier: that his songs have been played continuously for the past hour, or that I have recognized all of them. Not that I have anything against John Denver. In small doses.

I’m on my way to Lincoln to see the family. Dad’s not doing too well, so I’ve made arrangements at the school to go up for a visit. I hate having to miss classes, but it’s not because of the kids. Honestly, what I hate are all the damn lesson plans. My mom pointed out it would be faster just to teach the classes myself.

So I’m feeling remarkably well considering the circumstances of this trip, that I only got four hours of sleep last night, and that I’m sitting in an airport with CNN blaring on the monitors in clear discordance with the Denver-fest. (Personally, I’m rooting for John). Part of the reason for my easiness is that the airport has done little to offend me today. Check-in and the security screening weren’t onerous today, which are usually the worst part of air travel. Here at the gate (again, with the exception of CNN) things are pretty peaceful as well. Conspicuously absent from my travel experience are the hordes of screaming children. I suppose that’s one of the benefits of mid-week travel.

One other point of note is a sign of our changing times: here in the terminal, amidst the usual rows of uncomfortable benches, I’m sitting at a courtesy laptop bar. It’s just a smallish table with built-in electrical outlets and stools, but it’s really smart. Internet access isn’t included, but it’s nice not to have to jockey for juice with the business folks looking to charge their Blackberrys and the college students with their Apples. Even the guy with the electrical banana looks happy.

Tubing on the River (Archive)

Edit: This article originally appeared on my Blogspot blog.

Hey folks… sorry there’s been no updates in a long time. We’ve been involved in a lengthy labor dispute with the elves who actually manufacture the pieces you read. Rest assured we’re in negotiations now, however, and we should be able to resume production shortly. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do, including tales of adventure from San Francisco and Costa Rica! In the meantime, please enjoy the following. We apologize for any inconvenience.

(Concan, Texas) This past weekend saw us engaged in death-defying watersport (see Melina above) on the raging Frio River in central Texas. We joined Kevin and Michele Glynn-Lopez (pictured at right, below) for a couple days of kayaking and tubing and general loafing-about.

Kevin and MicheleIn other news, the summer has been busy. Melina is almost done with her classes (wild cheering) and school will begin again shortly (booing and hissing). Hope all is well with you.

Donde las calles no tienen nombres (Archivo)

Edit: This post originally appeared on my Blogspot blog.

¡Hola Amigos!

Many words describe Costa Rica. Forced pick one, it would be “green.” The color is everywhere, in every single verdant shade from dusky olives to brilliant emeralds that shouldn’t be natural. I’ve never been to Ireland, but its reputation must be exaggerated; Costa Rica is certainly the greenest place on this planet.

I discovered this because I went to Costa Rica to learn Spanish for two weeks at the Costa Rican Language Academy in San Jose. My profesora, Maria Laura Aguilar, was incredibly patient, and the program was great, so I speak like a native. Some of the Spanish I learned:

* Quiero una cerveza por favor… I’d like to sample one of your local brews.
* Una mas… My, this is good and I’d like another (may be used repeatedly).
* Donde esta el baño… The waterfalls here are lovely and now I must make one of my own.

While I was in Costa Rica I stayed with a tico family. Ticos (or ticas, for the women) is what the Costa Ricans refer to themselves as. As a general rule, they are a warm and friendly people and my host family was no exception. If you ask a tico how he or she is, the common response is ¡Pura vida! which literally translated means “Pure life” and generally means that things are just hunky dory. Considering they have no army, it’s no wonder the Costa Ricans have such a positive outlook on life.

Costa Ricans hate war and love tourists: it’s their number one industry, ahead of both microprocessor and fruit production. Despite this, they don’t understand the concept of road signs. Streets, in fact, rarely have names except as novelty items, and if they do the names aren’t used. Ticos navigate like they dance salsa: fluidly, intuitively, and passionately. Any taxi or bus drive through San Jose will confirm this. Naturally, I found myself with about as much sense of direction on the streets as I have on a dance floor, which is to say that I had none at all. Directions are routinely given in the manner of, “Go to the blue house in barrio San Pedro which is now painted yellow, turn left, go down the hill until you see the tree that was chopped down five years ago, and travel for about 17 meters or until you feel like stopping. That is my house.” Seriously.

I did not let this deter me, however, and when I had the opportunity, I travelled about the country. What I saw was beautiful. Although much of the country is agricultural, nearly a quarter of its lands are nationally protected areas, making it a very wild place. I was able to visit both the Pacific coast and the Poas Volcano, and on my trips I got to see monkeys, crocodiles, iguanas, butterflies, toucans, and even a sloth’s butt! You wouldn’t think that a sloth derriere would be much to write home about, but I was ecstatic about this for some reason. I certainly took enough blurry pictures of it.

On my final days I got the chance to visit the Nectandra Cloud Forest, a small preserve of primary and secondary growth cloud forest just north of San Ramon. A cloud forest is like a rain forest, only, well, cloudier (and cooler due to its higher elevation). I was treated to a royal welcome at the refuge by three of the founders: Evelyne and David Lennette, and Arturo Jarquin. I stayed the night at Arturo’s beautiful mountain-top home with food provided by his friend Alan. Nectandra was magnificent, and my visit was one of the jewels of my entire trip to Costa Rica. I want very much to go back just to see Nectandra again.

Sadly however, I had to return home, although I admit I was a bit homesick after two weeks abroad. The flight home was less than enjoyable due to a 20 hour flight delay, but that’s air travel these days for you. At least the airline put us into a hotel while they tried to fix the plane, and thanks to the wireless access in the airport I was able to keep Melina posted thousands of miles away. The internet sure is a nifty thing. And thanks to the Internet, you can experience a virtual tour of my trip. Check out the pictures!

¡Hasta luego!

The Color of Fall (Archive)

Edit: This post originally appeared on my Blogspot blog.

Fall Leaves in Texas

In Texas, autumn lasts approximately forty-five minutes. In that moment, if you’re lucky, you’ll catch a flash of color before everything goes brown. One of the favorite spots of Texans to catch a glimpse of nature’s palette is at Lost Maples State Park, near Kerrville. Melina and I decided to get out of El Swampo (that’s Spanish for Houston) for the weekend and head for the hills. There we found many fascinating shades of green, but not a lot of what you’d call fall color. Still, it’s quite beautiful and we hope to get back sometime.

In any event, the break was needed, as life has been quite busy. Melina’s been buried under schoolwork, as usual. Just last week the search and rescue dogs found her beneath a landslide of young adult literature. For myself, the big news is that I’m passing on my Athletic Director and IT Director roles and am now the Dean of Students for the high school here. This is, of course, what happens when you arrive late for faculty meetings and all the long straws have been picked.

In any case, Happy Halloween!

Lovely Rita, Hurricane (Archive)

Edit: This post originally appeared on my Blogspot blog.

I-10 Eastbound

Fourteen hours. One hundred eighty-six miles. The news footage made it look crazy. It was. Truth be told, Melina and I were lucky. We didn’t run out of gas (thanks to the diesel VW). We didn’t break down (but we did loose our air conditioning). We actually made it to where we wanted to go. Lots of people ended up turning around, or were in car accidents or worse.

Fortunately for everyone, Rita didn’t do much to the Houston area. There was a lot of wind which knocked down power lines, but other damage around us is minimal. I’m glad we left though. The campus well was without power for four days, which meant that even though our house had electricity, we wouldn’t have had water. The four days we spent in Seguin with friends were restful and calm.

I do have to say that while I have no respect for the Department of Homeland Security, I think that the Texas DOT and City of Houston did the best they could. The whole situation was a mess, but the really amazing thing is that the fourth largest city in the United States was evacuated with a minimal cost of life and hardship. There was no rioting in the streets. People on the highway were friendly (something you don’t often see on Houston highways). As terrible as it was, people kept things more or less orderly.

Yes, it could have been better. But on the other hand, it could have been much, much worse.

Stuck (Archive)

Edit: This post originally appeared on my Blogspot blog.

Seguin, Texas.

Kevin writing for Jarrett at 11:45 on Thursday: stuck, stuck, stuckity stuck. Left Highlands before dawn to beat the traffic. Unfortunately, so did everyone else. Wasn’t there a Volkswagen commercial like this in the past year? Made it to downtown Houston and no further. Less than 5 miles since 5 am. Stopped to get gas once. Car was passed by “fat guy carrying water bottle” on foot- a bad sign indeed.

Heading for Seguin – about 40 miles East of San Antonio. Should arrive sometime before Hurricane Andrea devestates the Gulf Coast next Summer…..

Jarrett to call with updates every 50 feet or so. I’m going out for lunch. I’ll be back before he calls.

Sweet Home Chicago (Archive)

Edit: This post originally appeared on my Blogspot blog.

A Saturday Afternoon in Chicago

(Houston, Texas) We find ourselves back in El Swampo after a whirlwind tour of the Midwest. First to Lincoln, then to Chicago, and then home via St. Louis. Along the way we ventured through Oklahoma, Kansas, Iowa, and Arkansas for a total of some 3500 miles, 88 gallons of diesel, 12 White Castle hamburgers, 7 cats, 3 boomerangs, and one misplaced purse. Not bad for only a week.

Our first stop was in Nebraska, where we spent a couple of days with my family. I wish I could tell of amazing feats of daring on the prairie involving corn and large agricultural implements, but really it was a quiet if quick couple of days. Most of Melina’s effort was extended to keeping Katu (the cat) out of her nose, while I played with my brother. One surprise of the visit was the quilt my mom made for our anniversary.

Although it was wonderful to see everyone, we had places to go, so we threw the bags back into the car (along with my mom) and sped off to Chicago. We took the scenic route through Iowa to stop off in Madison County, home of the famed covered bridges. They were neat, and it was encouraging to see that we don’t tear down everything of historical note in this country. If you’re driving I-80 across Iowa, I recommend stopping off to see the bridges. It’s not as though there’s anything else to do in the state. Except check your email. (See my previous post for details.)

As fun as it was being surrounded by so much corn, we pressed on. Our arrival in Chicago was heralded by a few days of gorgeous weather. We visited with Gram Nadr and the Stradal clan, and Melina really began to understand why I am the way I am. It was really great to see everyone after so long, although I remember them being bigger.

Also while in Chicago we did a bit of sightseeing. We ventured downtown to see the Art Institute and the Museum of Science and Industry. Both were incredible and we would love to go back and spend another whole day in each, as we really only saw a smidgen of what they had to offer. We were both really excited to see first-hand some of the awesome parts of the Art Institute’s collection, including Grant Wood’s American Gothic, Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks, and of course Georges Seurat’s A Sunday on the Grande Jatte.

The Museum of Science and Industry offered a different fare. First we visited the U-505 Submarine exhibit, followed by the Game On video games exhibit. That was a blast. We spent a couple hours playing some of the 100+ games they had on exhibition. It was amazing to see how video games have evolved–and scary to think that I’ve grown up while it happened. I felt a bit odd when I realized that some of those Atari 2600 games are still etched into my brain. Ah, the happiness of a joystick with a big red button…

Of course, all of that worked up an appetite, so Melina got to try her first White Castle hamburger. Mmm… tasty!

Though we wanted to stay longer, our two days in Chicago flew by and we had to leave, as we had two days of travel just to get back to Texas before our tourist visas expired. We detoured slightly through St. Louis to see the Arch. Although we didn’t get to ride the tram to the top, we were taught how to throw a boomerang by a guy we met in the park, so it was well worthwhile. If you missed it the first time, you can check out the shortmovie of our parabolic adventure.

We didn’t see Graceland, but traveled on to Memphis where we stayed the night. We lost a purse in Little Rock, but found it again thanks to the guys and gals at Quiznos. Texarkana threw us for a loop, but we made it home safely. That’s our trip.

It’s good to be home.