Denouement

If you don't feel like reading through the maudlin close to our trip, you can skip straight to the photo journal here.

Our re-entry back to reality was a bit more painful than we'd expected.  Between two delightful house guests, my first full day of school, two packed weeks of work and a whirlwind evacuation to San Francisco, it has taken me longer to put a bow on our epic road trip.  

And epic it was.  We were both expecting to have a great time, or we wouldn't have gone in the first place.  We had no idea, however, that almost every day would be a completely different adventure.  From dipping ourselves into steamy hot springs to cooling ourselves in mountain streams, we sampled as much as we could without completely wearing out our respective hosts.  For this, we owe quite a few shout-outs:

Amara:  "Rest-stop rock star" sounded good in my brain, but saying that aloud makes me think of something nasty.  Let's just leave it at: thank you for meeting us at the "Good Foods Store", which really should be called "What Whole Foods Dreams It Could Be".

Meagan and Keith:  You have a great spot out there in Kelly.  Rockin' BBQ, and thank you for the almost skinny dip!

Melissa, Jason and Ella:  We decided that your back porch could easily be rented to summer punters for the price of a luxury suite.  Babbling brook indeed!  Oh, and we'll be back for you someday, Ella.

Rob, Aly and Bessie:  Two words:  soup dumpling.  Katelyn and I concluded that we don't think we've ever tasted anything better.  Ever.  And thank you again for the wine surprise in Walla Walla.

Tiff and Evan:  SUP!  Thank you for donating your gear room, and for showing us a month's worth of Crested Butte in four days.  Watch out for those bears!

To our families and bosses, thank you for looking the other way while we were out of commission for three weeks.  We'll make it up to you...someday.  

In the mean time, thank you for following along.  We'll continue to post every here or there just to keep you abreast of our far less interesting adventures.  Until the next big one, at least.

For those who missed the link above, you can look at the entire trip, with geotags, here:

https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname=101997343857469889191&target=ALBUM&id=5781147559710978033&locked=true&authkey=Gv1sRgCPDx5OOZra2cSQ&feat=email

Greetings from the Land of Many Waters

Today finds us at our penultimate destination, one we've been eagerly anticipating notwithstanding all of our exciting adventures to date:  Walla Walla wine country!

When we were locking down our itinerary, which, in typical fashion, was roughly three weeks before our departure, K got a tip from a family friend concerning a bed and breakfast that looked too good to be true.  The Cameo Heights Mansion is situated roughly twenty miles west of Walla Walla proper, overlooking a massive apple orchard and not much else.  I'm not generally a B&B guy.  There are few homes where I feel comfortable spending a couple of nights other than my own, and those belong to my best friends and family.  Since B&B's are usually in some stranger's home, they are somewhat low on my list of preferred vacation spots.  

Our table for two, looking toward Walla Walla

Leave it to K, then, to lock in one of the plushest, most accommodating B&B's on the planet.  Want an en suite jetted tub, rain shower, in-wall flat-screen and fireplace?  You'll find one in every room.  Full pool area with hot tub, and they won't kick you out late at night (we tested this one!).  Cinema room with 100" projection TV and popcorn machine?  Done.  Last night we sampled The Vine, the Mansion's on-site chef's table dining room, and gorged ourselves silly.  I can't emphasize enough how much work and energy Alan and Deanne put into maintaining the facility.  From the homemade danish they present at your door alongside coffee or spiced cocoa first thing in the morning, to the box of housemade chocolates and handmade soap kit that comes gift-wrapped in every room, they missed no detail.  Best B&B ever!

Now THAT'S a burger!

Last night's dinner represented the tip of our gustatory iceberg.  We finished the evening by relaxing in the hot tub, sipping on a Carmenere and watching shooting stars zip through the Milky Way as coyotes howled in the distance.  This morning, we were greeted with a breakfast of hand-picked fruit salad, lemon curd French Toast draped with local peaches served alongside thick-sliced apple-smoked ham.  

We burped our way out the door, embarking on a full day of wine tasting up and down the valley.  For those not in the know, Walla Walla (aka Many Waters), renown for sweet onions, cherries and apples, has started to gain the world's attention when it comes to fermented grape juice.  Accustomed to the pomp and attitude that we often experience during our annual Thanksgiving trips to Napa, we were delighted with the friendly, down-to-earth reception we received at every single stop.  Where Napa tastings generally go for $20, you either pay $5 or not at all here.  While a few of the fancier bottles can command three-figure stickers, it's unusual to see most of the high-end stuff go for north of $50.  And let me tell you:  This juice is GOOD.  I get excited about these things, but K is generally harder to please.  I know when I see her swoon...and she swooned a lot...that we're striking gold.  

K is for...

From Woodward Canyon and K (special thanks to Rob and Aly of previous post's fame, for steering us toward these tastings and lavishing us with excellent surprise gifts!) to Dunham and Syzygy, we sipped our way through the dry, pleasant eastern Washington heat, thankful for the Breathalyzer in the truckster's glove box.  After a dynamite dinner at the Green Spoon, we retreated to our suite at the Mansion.  We are now trying to pretend we don't have to go back to the real world tomorrow and debating whether to pop some corn and watch a movie, roast S'Mores in the firepit outside, or soak in the enormous tub.  How much do you want to bet we'll do all three?  

With a nice glass of wine, of course.

Cheers!

Goin' Out West

Since we've just about run out of new outdoor activities to try (and, more importantly, I have pushed the limits of consecutive days-out-of-office/school), with no small measure of sadness, this morning we loaded up the doughty truckster and started our trek back to the Northwest.  Not before a little excitement of the Ursidae variety, however.   As you may recall from our Yellowstone exploits, everywhere we've gone in the Great Outdoors, we've been warned about large mammals that could very well tear us to shreds.  We missed a mama black bear and her two cubs in Jackson by mere minutes, according to fellow trekkers coming both up and down the trail.  

The most vicious beast we
encountered in Jackson

How ironic, then, that our closest encounter with something that might kill us (other than flaky mountain rocks and lake water) found us in our native habitat:  our friend's apartment.  We had originally planned on sleeping on the back porch, but had been warned that might not be such a great idea since bears had been spotted in the 'hood.  Last night, at around 3AM, K poked me vigorously.  "There's a bear out there!" she exclaimed.  I'm not usually at my most acute at that delicate hour, but I remember thinking, "So, what, exactly, do you want me to do about it?"  We didn't appear to be in imminent danger, so I decided the best course of action was to turn over and go back to sleep.

Later this morning, we discovered that our foolish next-door neighbor had left bags of garbage on the street for collection, despite a clear local ordinance requiring bear-proofed containers. I should note that this neighbor was undoubtedly an urbanite there on holiday, not one of the smarter locals.  In any case, the bear didn't climb the stairs to our back porch, and neither K nor I were eaten.

We did, however, witness one of the largest organisms in the world on our way out of town.  Would you believe, it wasn't a bear!  Believe it or not, Aspen tree forests are not groups of stand-alone trees, but clumps of trees all connected to a single root system.  The grove below is a smidge of what we drove through as we wound down Kepler Pass toward Delta.  

After a 750 mile cruise through Colorado, Utah and half of Idaho, we're holed up in the surprisingly cushy Boise Hampton Inn.  Tomorrow: Walla Walla!  

This must be where James Cameron picked up his Hometree inspiration for Avatar

Kiss my Butte

Two posts in one day?  I must really hate doing homework!  (Sorry, Professor Au)   But I couldn't resist chiming in, because we just returned from the top of Crested Butte.

Now, before I met K, my definition of a scramble was something that came from eggs, veggies and some sort of ground meat.  Hopefully bacon.  But now that I'm married to a former mountain girl, my world has been opened up to all sorts of new adventures.  Witness our route:  

Red line added to highlight danger

I should have thought to be nervous when Tiff offered me her extra helmet, then asked if I had a rope and harness.  I didn't, but my gearhead wife happened to have one in the truckster.  So, off we went.

Not much of a story here, but I wanted to share a few fun shots of our ascent. Oh...and we all made it down uninjured!

We're going that way!

Peak in sight!

Taking a breather

Diving Board!

Tree pose at the peak!

SUP, Crusty Butt!

After eating our way through Denver (think:  gorgeous leg of lamb Friday night, soup dumplings filled with Gruyere, Brussels with ground pork and mint Saturday night, and, to cap it all, TOMATOFEST on Sunday), we squeezed ourselves back into the doughty truckster and pointed toward Crested Butte.

Five minutes later, we were immersed in that enormous thunderstorm.  Gotta love brand new tires!

Chilling on a CB art bench

With apologies to those we visited in Jackson and Denver, Crested Butte finally fits my mental image of a "mountain town".  Although Jackson has the Tetons in the background, and Denver has a large range off to the west, CB is completely surrounded by towering peaks.  While Jackson may have an "Old West" feel to it, it also has more than its share of city amenities, like McDonalds, art associations and cultural centers.  CB, by contrast, can be walked from stem to stern in the space of an hour.  There's one bank (the Crested Butte Savings and Loan) and a smattering of restaurants, but the closest Mickey D's is in Gunnison about 30 minutes away.  Now we can truly say we've gotten away from it all!

SUP, yo!

Yesterday, K's rock-star friend Tiff taught us how to stand-up paddle on Lake Irwin.  For those who haven't yet tried to SUP (as those in the know call it), it's basically standing on a surfboard while trying not to flip it over, then using a paddle to avoid ski boats, sharks and other SUP'ers.  You do all this by using your 'core'.  I'd always thought a core was the center of an apple, or the thing that melts down in nuclear power plants.  Apparently, it's also what people in shape use to not make fools of themselves.  As athletes who bother to exercise on a regular basis, K and Tiff were happily paddling around the lake in no time at all.  I managed to stay on the board, but not without straining dozens of muscles that I hadn't used since my failed attempt at windsurfing roughly 20 years ago.  Never mind that...I exercised!  Mom would be so proud.

Today, we're headed up the Guide's Ridge on Mt. Crested Butte.  Let's see how many of those muscles are still operational.

Greetings from Hades

At least, that's what it feels like from where I'm sitting, despite having a fan pointed at me.  

Close-looking dots actually miles apart.  Who knew?

When you are accustomed to getting places by flying as I have been, it's easy to forget how enormous this country actually is.  Driving from state to state is an excellent way to refresh one's perception of geographic scale.  It's sort of like taking the subway in a big city.  The two dots between stations look like they're close together on the map, but in real life they are usually much, much farther apart.  I wouldn't be surprised if the Wright Brothers were inspired to invent the airplane because they had gone on one too many boring road trips and concluded that there must be a better way to summer in The Hamptons.  

That said, rolling over each traveled mile on the ground is surprisingly one of the most gratifying aspects of the All-American Road Trip.  It gives wanderers a renewed appreciation for how vast this country is.  It also affords the opportunity to enjoy long media that would be far too impractical for a daily commute, or even a intra-state road trip.  Before taking off, we picked up three audiobooks and brought his and hers iPods loaded to the brim.  In the 30 or so hours we've spent in the car so far, we've listened to everything from Jerry Garcia Band to Lady GaGa.  I was a bit nervous that, never having endured a drive longer than 6 hours or so, our differences in taste might start to result in frayed nerves.  To my delight, we've discovered that our overlap is quite a bit bigger than we'd thought.  

K checking to make sure the roof box is still there;
J losing his mind

Despite this good news, there were moments when being cooped up in the car became a little much.  After all, the notable thing about all of that wilderness out there is that it is mostly filled with nothing at all.  Leaving Jackson, once you get south of Pinedale, the most exciting things on the road are cops aplenty, trucks passing other trucks, and the occasional tumbleweed crossing the road.  During portions of this drive, K napped, and I found myself ruminating on the meaning of life, the joys of being on the open road in a reliable car, and how lucky we were to be on such a trip.  Actually, none of that is true.  I was mostly focused on lunch.

This land is your land, this land is...yawwwwwwwwwwn

Last night, we rolled into Denver to spend the weekend with Rob and Aly.  Like Seattle, Denver doesn't usually get hot summers and thus most homes don't have AC.  Denver has been experiencing near-record highs, with temps averaging in the mid- to upper-90's.  Luckily, we are in one of the few homes to boast AC in the bedrooms...thank you, Rob and Aly!

Action Jackson

Today marks Day Three of K's attempt to convince me that Jackson Hole is the most interesting place on the planet.  Although there are no oceans nearby, I've started to admit that Jackson does have many of the right ingredients for perfection:  Crisp mountain air, a relaxed, small-town feel, and more outdoor activities than you could possibly squeeze into an already-full lifetime.  

So far, we've gone skinny-dipping in a country crick (I don't actually know the difference between a 'creek' and a 'crick', but crick is much more fun to say, and it makes me feel like I'm just a bit country!), visited the gear shop where Katelyn used to work, hiked what felt like 300 miles through Grand Teton National Park (it was actually more like 13...but we climbed over 3,000' from the base of the park, to just under Disappointment Peak), sipped designer cocktails at The Rose, and saw the Heartless B*stards play at the Pink Garter.  And that was just in the first five minutes.  

The thing about Jackson, it's like a Never-Never land for real humans.  There are a few types you find here, and they all revolve around outdoor activities:

Trustafarian

Wealthy kids from the Northeast who came out here when they were kids and decided that their college fund would be better spent bagging as many peaks as possible.  

Hard Core Extremists

If they aren't talking about the latest summit/cornice/rapids that they've conquered, they are challenging those next to them at the bar or comparing injuries.  I scraped my thumb getting my suitcase out of the car, and must have had three people ask me how I won the scrape.  Extremists generally are in top physical form, meaning 0% body fat and the endurance of an Olympian.

Found this pinned to the Teton Mountaineering
wall of fame.  Explains a lot!

Jackson Natives

I estimate there are about 50 true natives.  We're staying with one such native, and it's fun to watch them navigate around the Trustafarians and Extremists. 

Tourists

Over 2 million people make their way through Yellowstone National Park to the north, and it isn't difficult to imagine all of these people dipping south to Jackson.  Imagine the sort of crowd you'd find on Pier 39 in San Francisco or Times Square in NYC crammed into a small-town main street, and you'll have a good idea of what Broadway looks like on an August day.

Since we're Tourists, we're enjoying being in the way of the locals.  It's about 90 degrees here, so we're fighting the heat by drinking cold beverage after cold beverage and loudly commenting that there might be a Grizzly nearby.  That's what tourists do, after all!

Peeking into Garnet Canyon above
Amphitheater Lake

Catching a breather

Huge props, by the by, to Meagan and Keith for hosting a grill-out to end all grill-outs, to Meagan for the first-rate drinks at The Rose, to Scott for helping us find the hidden passage leading to Disappointment Peak, to Melissa and Jason (and Ella!) for graciously allowing us to crash on their porch, and to all of the great people at Teton Mountaineering for helping me gear up for the park!

K surveying the scene

P.S.  Today I learned that the name Grand Tetons came from the 19th century French trappers, who named the three peaks "Les trois tetons", or "The Three Breasts".  Anyone who has seen the first Total Recall will appreciate why I instantly love this place even more.

The Planet Needs Beano

Having grown up in the geologically interesting Bay Area and lived in the no-less-fascinating Northwest for so many years, I admit to being somewhat difficult to impress when it comes to natural wonders.  But even I managed to be knocked over by virtually every sight we saw in our loop through Yellowstone National Park.  It seems almost impossible that so many strange and beautiful wonders can be found in one geographic location.  

When I'd pictured Yellowstone in my mind, I'd assumed it was a tree-filled forest with friendly rangers and unwitting campers who became the victims of cartoon bears.  For the uninitiated, it is so much more than that, at times a forest, at other times an alien landscape I'd just as soon expect to see on another planet.  The park is dominated by the Yellowstone Caldera, the largest supervolcano on the continent, according to Wikipedia.  This means that while there are many dormant or extinct volcanos out there, Yellowstone represents one that might actually erupt at any time, and erupt in a big way.  

You thought you were so impressive, but you're no SUPER volcano!

This brings me to an important point:  There are no end of ways that you can find yourself on the brink of death in Yellowstone.  From the moment you cross park boundaries, bison, moose and elk roam the grounds, including the numerous highways criss-crossing the park.  You might think that sounds like fun, but there's nothing cute about a moose deciding to walk in front of your vehicle when you're traveling at speed.  K informed me that the worst traffic jams occurred when bison decided to walk out into the road, and I spent the remainder of our drive nervously scanning the shrubs as we passed for murderous fauna waiting to spring out at us.  

As we rolled toward the Norris Geyser Basin, I wondered aloud if there were some spots better for camping than others.  It isn't just the bison and elk campers need to worry about.  Grizzly Bears, not to mention the only-slightly-less-mortal Black Bears, roam the area. With plenty of cubs scampering around playfully this was perhaps not the best time for city slickers to be playing Outward Bound.  Bears aren't the only concern.  Coyotes abound, leaving no small children safe.  As if that weren't enough fun, about a decade ago the US Fish and Wildlife Service thought it'd be fun to reintroduce wolves to the picture to cull the larger 'megafauna'.  Suddenly my jape about meeting Yogi didn't seem so clever after all.  

Prometheus might have been filmed here

Animals aren't the only mortal threat at Yellowstone.  In fact, before the National Park Service was kind enough to bring in roads and build safe paths, it's a wonder anyone made it out of the park alive at all.  Thanks to a subterranean hotspot that the volcano boasts, the entire park is dotted with over ten thousand thermal features.  Some, like Old Faithful, are world-famous and big enough to avoid becoming an unintentional parking spot for an RV.  But many, many others are invisible to the naked eye, and signs dot the parks with graphics warning of unhappy children who step off the pathway only to lose a foot (or their life) in the scalding pools that often lie just underneath the dirt.  

Does wonders for your skin!

Those oozing pools aren't just fun to look at.  The earth's innards reminded me of something that I couldn't quite put my finger on until our third or fourth hot spring.  When we were in high school, we used to go to Taco Bell and load up on Pintos and Cheese, then drive around with the car windows rolled up.  I know, there's so much that's wrong about that example, I don't know where to begin.  But that's pretty much what it smells like when walking around the geysers and paint pots.

Speaking of paint pots, I can't let our drive through the park pass without mentioning the Grand Prismatic Spring.  We love hot springs and have made a sport of scouting them out wherever we go. This one had to be hands-down the coolest...er, hottest.  For once, it wasn't hard to convince K not to strip down and jump in.  Even she won't touch 200 degree water!

Which brings me to another observation.  I don't think I'll brook much argument by stating many Americans aren't the smartest creatures on the planet.  But we saw people behaving in ways that made us want to smack our foreheads, and it wasn't just the parade of leviathan RV's.  With all of the signs warning of bear attacks and potential scalding, we saw families allowing their kids to run straight up to elk for photo opportunities.  Another family decided it would be fun to dip their hand into the sulfurous waters of the Upper Terraces (thankfully, they weren't that hot).  On the positive side of things, most of those  in RV's respected the turnouts, and the traffic on the roads, even for early August, moved as briskly as the bison would allow.


I could go on and on, but we made it down to Jackson, and it's time to go sample the sights here.  More to come, including swimming in a country creek and taking a stroll up a hill.

Enjoying the "Other" Grand Canyon

Super Soaker!

Greetings from Pray, Montana!  We cruised 450 miles over eight hours, stopping in Missoula for lunch with one of K's old climbing buddies.  Alas, in all the excitement, we didn't capture the moment, although we can prove that we made it into the state.

Big Sky, obscured by overpass

A word about Chico Hot Springs.  Nestled in the foothills of the Absaroka Mountains, the springs were first used as a curative bath for everything from kidney troubles to blood disease.  Local ranch hands were known to line up against the wall of the "cooler" bath (about 95 degrees) after a long day out on the range.  Nowadays, the resort is jam-packed with a mix of locals and tourists like us, and the lodge is known to book years in advance.  We were lucky to score one of their newer cabins on the fringe.  

K getting in a stretch outside the cabin

With a two-person jetted tub, a California King bed and a porch replete with Adirondacks perfect for cool drink-sippin' and full moon-viewin' against the range, our only disappointment was that we would only be spending one night here.

Taking a breather before unloading the car

As we checked into our cabin, we met our neighbors and made a sweet new friend, named Buttercup!

Where the horses at?

Our day's drive made us hongry, so we tucked into a meal starting with bison ravioli, escargot-stuffed mushrooms and salads containing ingredients from the resort's on-site garden.  K opted for the rack of lamb, which stood up to any "locavore" preparation we've enjoyed in Seattle.  I attacked the veal osso buco, swimming in a bath of bacon, tomatoes and home-grown snow peas.  


Of course, we couldn't visit Chico without sampling the hot springs themselves.  Whenever I think of hot springs, the picture that jumps to mind is one of a muddy cavern, filled with bubbling pools of sulfur-drenched water.  The good folks who crafted the resort were thoughtful enough to carve out a large lower-temperature pool, and a smaller pool fed with a much warmer (104 degrees) spring.  Both pools are surrounded with chaise lounges and abut the Cisco Saloon.  Being rookies, we wandered first into the Saloon wearing our bathrobes, ordered cocktails, then were buzzed into the pool area by the bartender.  We were delighted to discover a thoughtful portal between the springs and the bar, making future drink orders less bathrobe-intensive.

K, having THIS MUCH FUN!!!

After our brunch of crispy bacon, huckleberry pancakes and cheesy eggs (all for a measly $16 together!) we're now headed into the Heart of Parkness...otherwise known as Jellystone National Park.


I hope we get to see Yogi and Boo-Boo!

Me writing this blog.  You can't GET more real-time!

Out of Office Autoreply: This Blog Is Now Live!

You'd think that there would have been major life events over the past few years that would have inspired us to create and service a blog.  Meeting the loves of our lives (each other, in case you were wondering), K enduring the gauntlet of law school and passing the bar, getting married, my debut with Middleman Bob and ensuing road gigs, not to mention countless photo and news-worthy family gatherings.  And thanks to Uncle Google, it's just not that hard.  But no, we've remained content to read the clippings of others, consigning our major news updates and photo sharing to Facebook.

Cleared for takeoff!

No longer, friends and neighbors.  Although we've traveled quite a bit in our 2 1/2 years together, the trip upon which we've embarked today is the most ambitious yet:  A 3,000 mile loop taking us across seven states and what promises to be an exciting mix of hot springs, nature hikes, and, most importantly, connecting with family and meeting many of each others' friends.  I'll be taking the most consecutive time off since I joined T-Mobile eight years ago (previous record: 10 days), and this represents our longest trip together as a couple.  We'll conduct this journey from the cockpit of our aging but no less doughty wagon, packed to the gills with travel essentials.  This includes an Igloo cooler crammed with snacks, roughly eight weeks worth of clothing and more or less every personal electronics device I own:  laptop, tablet, digital camera, cell phone.  I thought about cramming our living room TV in as well, but a certain party pooper decided she had to draw the line somewhere.  As we rolled out of the driveway this morning, K remarked that she might be rolling back into the mountains with more clothes than she owned when she actually lived in Jackson Hole.  




We completed our first leg today:  Seattle to Spokane.  We left town right on time to catch the Blue Angels Seafair flyover, tacking a good 30 minutes on to the journey.  Undaunted, we still made it across the pass and into Spokane in 4 1/2 hours, right on time to pick up a pie to bring to K's grandparents.  

Mmmmm...pie!

Which brings me to another point.  In true Lonn fashion, we plan on eating and drinking our way across our Northwest loop, starting with tonight's dessert.  We enjoyed this pie almost as much as we enjoyed spending a quality evening with K's grandparents.  




Speaking of which, here's a great shot of K and the World Famous Grandma Verna.  

K confirming that GV's enormous heart is still going strong.  Next time we'll bring a stethoscope...

Tomorrow, we head off to Pray.  Pray, Montana, that is, where I'm told there will be bison on the menu and hot springs for dessert.  Stay tuned!

They call me "Dinner"!