Petersburg to Wrangell - the Long Way

Thetis Bay - Where the Wild Things Are

It was one of those semi-stormy conditions in a somewhat cozy but totally secure Thetis Bay, in the southern area of Kiui Island, which lies east of Baranof Island. I was reading a suspenseful book (Hunger Games) in my cozy bunk, staying up late. It was getting towards midnight, and the rain and wind had slackened off - outside was very quiet, with just the splitter-splatter of water dripping off the mast onto the deck. Suddenly I heard a weird sound that I couldn't identify, and decided to take a break from my reading and go on deck to investigate. The sky was glowing softly, with the full moon trying hard to bust in through the low lying and misty clouds, but only succeeding to illuminate the bay around me. The water was totally glassy and still.

Suddenly I heard the high and wavering howl of a wolf coming from the lowlands of the bay. Almost immediately, another howl joined in, and then another, and then another…I think I counted at least 6 separate wolf howls all commingling into a dazzling counterpoint of glissando melodies that were totally hypnotizing, yet energizing. It was like a jam fest celebrating the full moon. I wanted to join in, but thought that would stop their singing, much like a bad musician trying to bust into skilled professional musicians grooving to an inspired improvisation. The wolves kept singing for a good 10 minutes, until, one by one, they would drop out of their collective song - until there was only one last player who also eventually stopped. I sat out there in the cockpit hoping that they would begin again, but nothing; finally the cold forced me back to my warm bunk and sound sleep.

 It's easy to forget that here in Alaska, I'm not very far from wildlife until an event like this happens. Unfortunately, I never get much evidence of it sitting on my boat and am too chicken to tromp around in the woods in the unlikely event of finding wild things. I am reminded of the tenacity and patience, yes - and of bravery - of photographers and wildlife naturalists into seeking out and waiting for wildlife to show up (it must be like a "stakeout", except without the donuts). So I get very excited, especially as a musician, when an aural event like this occurs. Very stimulating!

Heading west on Frederick Sound

 Blue Bossa and I finally left Petersburg on the 30th of April, with delays in getting the right cable for my instrument grid, and then fixing a plugged-up head (toilet), which stopped working just on the day I was going to leave. It took a couple of more days to take it apart, and clear out the plumbing that was clogged up (a really pleasant project…NOT!).

Portage Bay

The rain had been relentless in coming down the whole week, and by the time I left, it was still raining. It was still raining by the time I got to Portage Bay, but the trip was nicely helped by an ebb tide which made it a relatively quick trip. Portage Bay seemed like a nice enough place, but I really couldn't do much while I was there because it was still raining hard. It's hard to get motivated to launch a kayak when it's raining and cold outside.

Turn Mountain

Honeydew Cove

The next day, we headed to Honeydew Cove on the east of Kuiu Island, a place recommended by some friends in Friday Harbor many moons ago. It was nice trip with southerly blowing from nothing to probably 15 knots, abeam, so I had the main and jib up and actually sailed for about a half hour before the wind let up (Gee, I sure hope to see more sailing as I start to head south). The clouds cleared out and it eventually became sunny and warm (in SE Alaska, that means not cold).

Honeydew

Honeydew Cove is really a beautiful area, surrounded and protected by small islands, with nice sandy beaches to walk on. I launched the dinghy to explore the islands, eventually landing on the beach with my camera and stretching my legs, taking pictures.

Red Bluffs at the mouth of the bay

Bear Meadow-but no bears...probably in hibernation

 I've heard so much about it, and I missed it the last time I went to Baranof Island (last year), so I decided to cut across Chatham Strait to Red Bluff Bay. Indeed, the scenery there was as dramatic as some of the fiords that I saw in the Mystic Fiords. The guide book stated that they counted nine waterfalls - I only counted one big one, but the air was so cold, that I believe that the water was still frozen and refused to cascade down in other places. I anchored in a nice corner of the bay, right near a place called Bear Meadow. Wouldn't you know it, I saw no bears. I don't think bear season is quite up and going right now, or maybe it was too cold and the bears were still in hibernation.

There was a spectacular backdrop of high peaks and big cliffs, but most of it was hidden by low cloud cover until the next morning, when the clouds lifted up to show a high snowy peak, which my chart didn't give me a name, but it was 4,000 feet high.

Did I also mention that it was bloody cold?!? I had my diesel heater on for a good two hours during the night and slept in 3 layers of clothes under my comforter in bed, and I was still cold.

Morning at the top of Red Bluff Bay

Only waterfall I found...

Did I say it was cold?

Red Bluff Bay

 I left the next day (my birthday) hoping to find warmer climates back on Kiui Island and headed to the Bay of Pillars, where, indeed it was warmer. Kuiu Island is generally a lot lower in elevation, with no big mountains frozen over with year-round snow. And it turned out to be a non rainy day with glimpses of sunshine.

Plenty of rapids and whirlpools-Bay of Pillars

The green line is my dinghy route to Honeymoon

Bay of Pillars is a big area with a couple of anchorages available. I took the one that sits behind a group of five small islands, which is MUCH easier to get to than Honeymoon cove, located towards the end of Bay of Pillars.

After securing the boat, I launched my dinghy and headed another 5 miles inland through a really narrow channel where the tidal currents can get huge. The only way Blue Bossa could get in there is during high slack tide, which is really hard to time. I figured exploring by dinghy would be much easier, and I was right.

It was pretty exciting busting up the strong ebbing current, dodging the whirlpools, and rocks on my way in. I couldn't imagine doing it on BB. Once I got in the open bay, it was calm and delightful, with beautiful backdrop of rolling hills and lots of trees. It was also pretty deep until I took a right and pushed into Honeymoon.

Baranof Island to my stern

That night it was nice and calm, but I was hearing on the weather forecast that it was going to get up and blow south-easterly for a couple of nights, so the next day I headed for a bulletproof anchorage called Thetis Bay. I ended up staying there for two nights, until there was a weather-window of opportunity to head south again. Not much stands out during that time except that canine serenade that I so much enjoyed. I also read a lot of books.

Mud Hole

They're not kidding it's sticky

Again, the weather forecast stated another gale force south-easterly winds that would last another 2 days, so during the lull, I zipped down to Mud Hole, a much smaller and cozier place with lots of sticky mud. During the next two nights, it really busted in with strong winds - not as windy as the time I weathered it out in Still Harbor, on west Baranof Island, but strong enough to consider using two anchors. I ended up only using one, but this time I had an anchor watch GPS - (a little Garmin hand-held), which worked fine (even though I never dragged anchor).

Rounding Cape Decision

Happy sailor in Sunny Sumner Strait

Finally, on the 9th of May, I left Mudhole, heading south to round Cape Decision and then north up Sumner Strait, initially to go to Port Protection on the north of Prince of Wales, where I've been once last heart. The sun came out, the south wind came up and I decided, (gosh darn!) I'll turn the engine off and sail. What a concept! So armed with hat and sunglasses, lifejacket and safety harness, I set up a wing-and-wing for the boat and headed north up Sumner Strait, under sail, no engine, going 4-6 knots with a 1/2 to 1 knot current going with me. Very pleasant!

Wing & wing, 4-6 knots with a following current.  Yeah!

We finally arrived to Port Protection, but it had no room - all places were filled up. I decided I had enough time in the day to get to St. John Harbor, but this time I had the engine going, eventually bucking into a two knot current towards the end of the trip. Ouch! Still and yet, I arrived at St Johns at about 8pm and found a place to anchor for the night.

The next day, I left about 11am (I had to time it for a flood - I didn't want to buck against any more current) and headed the last leg back to Wrangell.

And here I am.

My state of mind this year has evolved a bit differently than what I expected. I truly do admire those hardy and courageous folks that I read about in cruising magazines and the Cruising Club yearly publication, exploring the north and south ends of the world in super seaworthy steel boats, wrapped up in insular foul weather gear in awful, stormy conditions. I used to think, wouldn't that be adventurous to do something like exploring Patagonia, or Iceland, or the Antarctic, etc. I have since changed my tune. It could very well be because of my advancing age. When it gets cold at night, all I can think about is how nice a hot tub would feel. I wake up in the morning thinking, wouldn't it be nice if I was able to swing open my transom gate while my boat is at anchor with nothing on but a pair of swim trunks and just dive into the water instead of having a morning shower? When it's windy enough to sail, how nice would it be for the wind to be warm instead of face-numbing cold?

These thought-processes have made me decide to start migrating south to warmer climes. I have no clue how long that will take, because I still plan to explore much of what I missed coming up. Queen Charlotte Islands (now called Haida Guia) and the west coast of Vancouver Island is certainly planned. A little break and some projects in Seattle, then south to California, I would suspect, with a future plan of heading to Mexico and beyond.

Wrangell - the war zone - it's like this through out the town

Up to Sunday, it had been constantly raining. Walking to town during that time, I would have to wear my sea boots because it was so muddy with giant puddles everywhere because of the torn-up streets. The locals in general do not complain about the torn up streets, grinning and bearing it, even though it's a 3-year project. I mean it looks like World War 2 visited the place. When it's raining, the locals never seem to wear waterproof windbreakers, and rarely wear boots except commercial fishermen. They all wear hooded sweatshirts with maybe a jacket over it. It's like water doesn't bother them and it's uncool to wear parkas. You don't see umbrellas in Wrangell.

Anyway, this Sunday I did little maintenance projects for the boat, taking advantage of the good weather. Today (Monday), it's sunny again.  The forecast predicts mostly sunny weather during the week - we'll see.

My friend Gary Groth-Marnat will fly in this Wednesday (16th) and we'll head west and south to explore the little explored and wild wild west coast of the Prince of Wales Island. If I can send out a blog in Craig, I'll do it, but most likely I won't be able to get anything out until June in Ketchikan. Until then...

Petersburg to Wrangell - the long way

Thawing Out from the Winter

4/24/12

Sea lion buddy looking for handouts

I'm sitting in Blue Bossa at the port of Petersburg, listening to my sea lion buddy snurf and sputter near the transom of my boat looking for fish.  He is as easily big as the local Santa Cruz harbor sea lion, and just as fat and happy.  But unlike California sea lions, he doesn't bark. Just makes a lot of funny noises.  The sun is shining through the rain clouds, the rain being intermittent today, while yesterday (Sunday) it was totally sunny. I spent a good time yesterday walking the streets of Petersburg and along the shoreline, enjoying the view and stretching out my legs.  There's nothing nicer than Alaska with sunshine.

Super low tide and beautiful day at Petersburg

Petersburg is a much more "civilized" town than Wrangell.  It is known as "Alaska's Little Norway" and has a ton of history starting with a bunch of Norwegians starting the town in 1910.  There are lots of buildings that are built with a certain northern European flare, and plenty of things, such as Norwegian flags and even a mini-viking ship on display to remind everyone that. All aspects of Petersburg has been oriented towards the fishing industry, with a couple of big processing plants in the town, and a huge fishing fleet.  I stopped briefly at Petersburg last year, but didn't get a chance to really know it.  The reason why I'm in Petersburg now is to solve a couple of issues on my boat, but I'm also happy to explore a bit more of this small town. I may even rent a car to explore the island later this week.

Petersburg's huge fishing fleet, waiting for the season to start

Petersburg's Viking ship (boat)

Petersburg looking north

The local Coast Guard

An unwrapped Blue Bossa (cover off)

Wrangell - my storage was at the blue arrowhead towards the bottom

So lets go back a couple of weeks:  I landed in Wrangell after having spent the last 6 months in "The Lower 48", spending most of my time in Santa Cruz, where I happily played a lot of music with lots of gigs and enjoyed the mostly sunny weather.  But by the time April came around, I was feeling antsy and ready to get back on Blue Bossa. During those winter months, I had a guy checking on the boat once a week to make sure that the boat cover was still on, that all of the fans and air-dryer heaters were working, that the boat was nice and dry, and that the bilges were empty. He mentioned that often he would have to go around the boat to push the snow or rain water out of the pockets of the saggy boat cover, but, other than that, there were no issues.  When I arrived in Wrangell, the town was right in the throes of reconstruction of their entire main street in the middle of town, making it dusty, noisy and irritating.  I'm sure, to the shops along the street, it has been hell. 

About to get hoisted out of the water

Wrangell is a quirky town and reminds me of a typical Mexican village, with it's run-down looking shops, dirt streets, and, when it's not raining, dust all over the place.  I'm sure when they get the street completed (exasperated folks are telling me that it'll never get completed), it will be a much better looking town.  Shops (including the market) all close on Sundays, and the Harbor Master's office is closed both Saturday and Sunday. It's not a strong work ethic, but the people are pretty friendly.

The guy controlling this contraption has the green shirt

Easy does it...

Pressure washing the bottom

Perched on stands

Get on board by the two ladders

No zinc!

The first thing I did was to get the boat hauled out.  Since the boat yard is city-owned (along with all of the marinas), I mostly dealt with the harbor master who is responsible for hauling out boats, mounting them on stands, and then launching them back in the water when the jobs are done. To get any labor done, I contracted out to a local service agent, who got the necessary manpower to spray off the gunk on the bottom, to tape off the boat, and then to spray on the new bottom coat.  I had purchased 3 gallons of bottom paint from West Marine, but found that I needed another gallon.  The first 3 gallons were a light blue, and the only bottom paint that I found that matched the




















contents of the 3 gallons was the color of brick red.  So I ended up with a gunmetal blue bottom, which looked kind of cool.  I also found, to my consternation, that the zincs, fastened to the transom of my boat, had almost completely dissolved. A zinc, for those who don't know, is used to "sacrifice" itself from metal-eating electrolysis, caused by being in a saline solution (salt water) with two or more dissimilar metals, causing the weaker metal to start falling apart. Luckily, this mishap had not caused any corrosion that I could see, so I replaced the zincs. 

All clean, taped and covered for the bottom spray job

I also had the pleasure to put some epoxy "SplashZone" on the bottom of my keel where I had run into some rocks last year.  The stuff is super sticky and hard to work with unless you have some water to mix the 2-part stuff with...you mix it with your hands and it's like Play Dough.  With water you smooth it out and then let it dry.  Once it's dry, it's harder than steel, and just about as hard to sand.  Really good stuff!

A word about the Wrangell boatyard: this boatyard is the biggest and best yard in the panhandle, so a lot of fishing boats from all over come to get hauled out.  It has become so popular that a good chunk of the Wrangell economy is based on the boat yard. The city is investing in another travel-lift.  The one they have can lift boats up to 150 tons.  The one they'll get next year will handle 250 tons.  To give you an idea of size, my boat weighs 11 tons. The operator of the lift (who could control it with a remote control device slung around his neck), figures that they'll be able to haul out boats up to 150' long or more.  Since the boatyard is so popular, it took me almost a week to get everything done that I needed done while it was out, because everyone was so busy.

Spray painting the custom-colored bottom paint

Once I was back in the water (thankfully no mishaps or accidents), I spent a good week de-winterizing the boat, putting the jib back on, moving the dinghy and outboard on the davits, putting the paddle board and kayak back in their rightful spots.  Then I got into some mechanics by replacing the water heater and waste tank macerator, both jobs requiring yoga-style contortions to get into the tight places, something my old and out-of-shape body has a hard time doing.  Nonetheless, it got done and it all works fine; it's nice to have some hot water on demand. However, my navigation instruments (speed, depth, windspeed, and, most important, autopilot), which are all connected as a network, refused to work, even after exploring the boat's electrical system, which is very complicated.  I decided that I needed some professional help and found that Petersburg had a few businesses that could help. 

Wrangell Narrows

I figured I better haul-ass to Petersburg before a big front was suppose to land the next day, so I took off, planning on timing the tides so that I could get through the Wrangell Narrows without bucking against any current.  I ended up about an hour and a half late at the entrance, but, as it turned out, I couldn't have timed it more perfectly, and by the time I was in Petersburg by 3pm, the sun was out and shining.  I was guided easily through the Wrangell narrows with the help of a great buoy system marking the channels, and the use of my GPS map in my computer.  I didn't need a depth sounder, though I would have felt more secure with one on.

So now I've located a guy to work on my instruments and we have been able to find that it was caused by a corroded link cable in the cockpit, which the tech has ordered from B & G in the east coast.  Hopefully he'll get it soon and we can install it. I also dropped off my Honda outboard to a service repair center for servicing, cleaning it up, and trying to find out why the damn thing isn't working.  It's probably because of a corroded wire somewhere in it's complicated insides.

Oh well, such are boats, a hole in the water to pour money.  And effort.  And time.  And lots of thought.

Going north in Wrangell Narrows

Road Trip!

Utah Salt-flats - about as flat as you can get

11/9/11

I’m sitting in an auto glass shop in Santa Cruz waiting for them to finish replacing my cracked windshield of my “Nubaru” that I acquired specifically for my road trip in October.  The lady said it was going to take all day.  Argh!  No other means of transportation to get back to the house that I’m sharing with a couple of other people.  But, what the hell, it gives me an opportunity to plunk out this little intermediate blog about my road trip that I haven’t had an opportunity to do before (update:actually, they were able finish by noon, so I finished this blog later that day).

Zombie badger at Bill & Bird's rental in NH

Black Canyon in Colorado

My idea was that instead of flying to Boston and renting a car to drive up to New Hampshire, I would buy a car in Bend (no sales tax, plus my “mailing address” is at Rick and Chris’s house), drive to Santa Cruz for Andy and Allison’s big Fall party, then drive to the east coast.  Driving cross-country was always something that I wanted to do but never got around doing…it has always been on my bucket list on things to do.

Looking down at the rapids of Gunnison River

Initially I was going to try and find a used Subaru (or VW Jetta diesel, if I could find one), but there was nothing good available without a lot of waiting, searching, and time.  So, even though I swore I wouldn’t do it again, I bought a new car. And since I’ve lately been into retro things, I got one with a stick shift. So far, I don’t regret the stick shift, but I’m glad I’m not commuting in heavy traffic to go to work. :>)

My road trip took about 3 weeks.  I took the northern route going east, and the southern route going west.  Highway 80 was the main way going east (with lots of diversions off the beaten path), and Highway 40 (Route 66) was the main way going west (also with diversions).

Wind generators aplenty in Utah going into the Rockies

Instead of boring everyone about my road trip, I thought I’d spell out some of the highlights and my observations, in roughly chronological order.

Music:  during my old college years when I and a bunch of friends would take road trips in my old VW van and creep from Colorado to LA listening to old Stones albums and anything that we could get a tape to listen.  So before the trip started, I collected a bunch of digital tracks of familiar (to me) 60’s and 70’s music on my iPod so I could listen to them, as well as all of my varied jazz collection.  Between this and catching NPR on the radio in various parts of the country kept me well entertained and energized.

Lots and lots and lots of corn fields

Corn: most of the open fields that were not desert or high altitudes were fields and fields of corn. It’s easy to see that this is the US’s main cash crop, what with all of the higher percentages of ethanol that we’re seeing in our gas nowadays.

Looking west from the continental divide - middle of the Rockies

Wind generators: I was very happy to see that, in most places that were wide open, or had a lot of winds, there were more wind generators than I have ever seen before.  To me, wind generators are not an eyesore, if only because they represented a much cleaner source of energy than the local propane or coal-driven energy plant. I used to buy wind generators for West Marine (electrical department); the style very much reflected what I was seeing on the road, except the ones on the road were 4-5 stories high, and each blade would be 30-40 feet long.  Yikes!

Gas prices:  talk about variation - from almost $4/gallon in California to almost as low as $3/gallon in the east coast.  You have to wonder why!  My Nubaru is not like my old Prius – instead of 45-50g/mile, I averaged about 28 to 30.  I’m spoiled.

Looking at Colorado Springs from Pike's Peak

Switch-backs on Pike's Peak

Continental Divide:  the Rockies are really amazing.  I went to Colorado College for a couple of years, and I don’t remember grasping the subtlety of this mountain range.  It’s not dramatic craggy mountains like I see in Alaska or even the Sierras.  It’s just this giant, rounded ridge that gets higher and higher towards the middle with relatively unassuming peaks around it.  It’s only until you realize that you’re 10,000 feet up that you realize that you’re in a mountain range.  Despite it being undramatic, the Rockies were undeniably beautiful.  When I was driving south of Hwy 80 on two lane highways I was reminded of the trips that I used to do driving to Breckinridge (playing music for ski tickets and room & board) during the winter in my old Scout, and the wide open snowy valleys with a minimal amount of trees and giant, fenced ranches.  It felt like that now, except instead of the fields covered with snow, it was a beautiful green and yellow grass.

Looking up at Pikes Peak - notice the yellow leaves

Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Colorado: obviously not as breathtaking as the Grand Canyon, it still represented a more intimate connection on how the earth is shaped by water, as well as by plate pressures and glaciers.  It is also more dramatic at how steep the cliffs are. What was cool about it was that I could see the Gunnison River, a well-known and difficult river rafting/kayaking challenge, flow underneath my feet very clearly.  It’s also interesting to note that in both the Grand and Black Canyon, getting there requires going up several thousand feet.  It’s like building a big sand mound on the beach and taking a stick to create a deep path through it, the stick being trillions of gallons of water flow a year creating a deeper and deeper gouge. 

Pikes Peak Lake

Pikes Peak:  I’ve been up it once before, when I was going to Colorado College – I and some friends took my old VW van and went up it’s steep, switchback road all the way to the top at 14,000 feet.  The old van barely made it up, having to keep it in 1^st gear the last quarter of the trip.  Going up with the Nubaru was easier, but I still often had to put it in 1^st gear to come out of one of its many hairpin turns.  On top, the view is breath taking – easy to do when you’re that high.  My breath was taken as soon as I started walking around, feeling my heart beat a little harder, and taking slower steps and having to breathe deeper.  I felt like an old man up there.  Hmmm…

Mist and rainbows at Niagara Falls

6 million cubic feet per minute!

Colorado College:  Colorado Springs has grown unbelievably from a relatively small town to a metropolis as big as Pasadena, it felt like.  There were lots of traffic, the freeway going north and south had grown lanes, and suburbia looked like it has spread out quite some distance, both north and south.  I hadn’t checked it out, but I bet that there is little difference in housing between Colorado Springs and its neighbor to the south Pueblo.  The college, however, was the same…same buildings, beautifully manicured lawns, and same trees shading the streets.  The college still has the block system that they started just after I left the school.  In retrospect, I regret having left that college as it would have been nice to experience taking one class over a 3 week time, concentrating only on that class.  Well, I’m sure (surf) that I (surf) had my (surf) reasons…

Many rivers head to Niagara Falls

Niagara on top

On the Canada side

Hand made just for the Adirondaks

Niagara Falls: easily the most awesome display of water flow that I’ve ever seen, including waterfalls in Alaska. It literally dumps the water from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario, the two lakes separated by a super wide river that seemed to come from everywhere. The Lake Ontario basin, sculpted by glaciers a kajillion years ago, looked like a giant drain sucking in all of this water, making a lot of noise.  I happened to be there on a nice sunny day, so the mist coming up, creating myriads of rainbows, brought in a whole lot more colors beside the greenery surrounding the waterfalls.  The combined water flowing into Lake Ontario is more than any other waterfall in the world (6 million cubic feet every minute!).  It was impossible to take pictures showing the whole grand concept.  One of these days, I’ll have to figure out how to take large landscape pictures – but you should check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Niagara_Falls.  On the U.S side, there was a ton of tourists looking – almost all of them were from China, Korea, or Japan, although some from Europe.  I also drove across the bridge to the Canada side (the border guard gave me a big hassle because I didn’t have any license plate on my Nubaru).  On the other side, the mist from the waterfalls inundated the streets of the town next to the waterfalls, making the streets all wet, and people wearing waterproof ponchos. 

Lake Placid

Typical Maine lobster boat on the hard

Upper state New York: I have pushed through New York City plenty of times, mostly going down the coast from Boston to Annapolis on various boat-show related activities and trying to figure out how to get past the ever-present traffic gridlock.  But I have never truly visited the beauty of New England during the fall; it is inspiring. There was certainly an orange and yellow color scheme going on there, especially while traveling through the Adirondack Mountains in the northeastern part of New York state.  Although the elevation on the road didn’t go a whole lot past 3000 feet (5,300 is its highest mountain peak), the mountain range is north enough to get a fair amount of snow during the winter.  Lake Placid hosted the winter Olympics in 1932 and in 1980, so all of the motels and hotels had some sort of reference to the Olympics, especially hockey, where in 1980 the US team beat the USSR team for the gold medal.  It’s also well known for the skiing (at least on the East Coast), but I have to think that the masses of wannabe skiers coming up from NY City to ski would make the place uninhabitable. 

House where Joel and Robyn got married

Maine: was as expected, beautiful, but hard to really explore on the road.  I would have much preferred to be out on the waters discovering the plentiful nooks and crannies not accessible by road.  That could well be a goal on my bucket list in the future.  I stayed a couple of nights at Bar Harbor, which was overrun by tourists all coming from…are you ready?...cruise ships!!  Gagh!  I can’t get away from them!

Joel and Robyn’s marriage: beautiful ceremony with thought-provoking marriage declarations, magnificent yet quirky house on a prime waterfront New Hampshire property, lots of friends and relatives with a reviewing of old relations and discovery of new – all that and more merged to become a very memorable event.  I’m really glad I came.  Thank you Robyn and Joel for inviting me!

Apropos name at the marriage property

North Texas suburb

Motels and hotels: been there, done that.  I don’t have any desire to go to any more motels and hotels.  Despite giant differences in pricing, they smell the same; they almost always look the same and always with some kind of forced air pushing in.  Say, here’s an idea: tow a small teardrop mini trailer and use it for camping.  They are relatively cheap if you buy used, they don’t weigh more than 800-1000 pounds, and my Nubaru (jeeze, I’m going to have to call it a Subaru now, it’s got more than 10,000 miles on it now) can tow one easily.  While I was driving I noticed that there were a lot of camping spots, some in absolutely gorgeous surroundings. With more time to do exploring, I could spend a whole summer visiting different places in US, Canada or even Mexico and not have to spend another god-awful night in some stinky motel.  Hmm…it’s something to think about.

Grand Canyon

Religion: I noticed driving the southern route back to California that there were numerous roadside signs advertising different religious groups.  My friend Andy reminded me that the “bible-belt” takes up a huge part of the US, especially on the south side.  It was certainly evident even driving the highways, especially the mega-chapels that I saw driving through Tennessee and Arkansas.  Wow!  Big mansions, only differentiated from other giant mansions by having a steeple placed in some part of the structure, were dotted along the highway. “Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors and see all of the people”.  I could only envision a lot of money pouring in from lots of people supporting these rich organizations.  While driving through a city, I would scan my radio for NPR and hit bunches of religious stations, all with some sort of hell & damnation theme and quotes from the bible. Without making any “politically incorrect” personal observations (I’ll leave that up to Bill Mayer), I would simply say that social culture sure varies wildly from state to state.

Rest Stops:  these varied wildly from state to state.  I thought that California rest stops were pretty fancy until I saw some of the northern ones that had a travel center, restaurants, gas stations, etc.  I guess it’s how much money a state is willing to spend on that kind of stuff.  With the economy in the tank for the states as well as the U.S., those kinds of things will be bypassed I’m sure.

Me, after staring at the Grand Canyon all day...

Grand Canyon: this was the 3^rd time in my life that I visited it.  It’s worth it every time; but the grandeur of the place is so great that you often don’t see any of the smaller details that can be missed if you don’t sit down and stare out - which is what I did this time.  I was at the canyon almost the whole day, hiking around from viewpoint to viewpoint, but mostly finding a good comfortable spot, sitting on my ass and staring – trying to see small details.  Thankfully the weather was beautiful, and I left with a strong color sense of orange/brown in my head.  Perhaps one of these days I will go down the Colorado River to see the Grand Canyon from below.  I wonder if it will be just as majestic.

Missed opportunities: on my way back to California, I was “smelling the barn”, looking forward to playing music with friends or on gigs, so I bypassed a few places that I thought about visiting, but am now looking forward to visiting if ever I got the chance to travel again:  New York for the jazz clubs, New Orleans for the same reason, Oak Creek Canyon in Arizona where my mom took us 3 boys to visit on a familial road trip during one summer – and basically taking some more time to smell the roses. Also, it would be fun to have a kayak or paddleboard with me, while visiting the various waterways that I saw.

California desert driving

Now I’m in Santa Cruz, sharing a house with another couple, and soon to move to a small studio, only a few steps away from Pleasure Point.  It’s been tough getting back to surfing, trying to acclimate my muscles and joints (bad shoulders) and my sore ribs, as well as getting up fast enough on the board to not wipe out all of the time.  But playing music has been fun, and I already have at least 3 gigs a week, so that’s been exciting.  Fortunately (or unfortunately) my travel bug is still alive and well, and I may go on another trip – maybe to New Zealand as I threatened to do in my earlier blogs.  I haven’t figured it out that far.  I still have a lot of projects that need getting done here, including a complete health checkup.

Blue Bossa is still up in Wrangell, awaiting my return.  The guy who is taking care of it says the only problem is the cover on the stern – since it’s not fitting very well up there, it collects water in the pockets formed by the misfit, and when it gets cold, will turn into ice.  He has to pop out the water or ice every time he visits the boat. But everything else is fine.  I may fly up there after Christmas to see for myself and run the engine, but the flight costs are pretty high.  We’ll see.