Last Blast

The last month of my leave has passed and I'll be returning to work tomorrow. During the first half of the month I was getting my house back in order and dealing with some issues we ran into with the commercial site we were going to buy for the bakery.

I've pretty much finished moving in. I decided to take the approach of only moving stuff from the garage (where I stored everything during my absence) into the house when I needed it. Most of the furniture is in the house now. What's left in the garage seems to be mostly clothes and kitchen utensils. I've gotten more used to living in a house again, although I still often sleep outside in the back yard. I've noticed that some of the neighborhood cats like to hang out there in the evenings.

The renters took pretty good care of the house, especially considering that they were three male college students. They cleaned it really well. There was some damage, but it's mostly minor and mainly falls into the category of normal wear and tear. They left a few valuables. Three bottles of liquor, a lawn mower, and three truck wheels with tires mounted, amongst other things. I recently sold the truck wheels on Craig's list.

After I settled in I had some people over for dinner on a Sunday night. The main dish was chile verde with Spanish rice and fresh made tortillas. If you enjoy good Mexican food you should try the chile verde. It's really good, and cheap too. I fed about 16 people for maybe $15. The recipe I used can be found here.

During the first half of July we ran into some issues with the property we were buying for the bakery. We found out that the place used to be a gas station many years ago. Also, people who used to work there said that they sometimes smelled fumes. I became concerned about the potential for an environmental clean up liability. The roof wasn't in as good a shape as we were lead to believe. Enough inconsistencies between what the seller told us and what we were discovering came up that I decided to exercise an exit clause in the contract. Many thanks to Nina, Jesse, and Elmo for their due diligence on the property and looking out in my best interest. They helped convinced me to exercise the exit clause. There's still an issue with the deposit refund that the seller has not budged on. It's not a large amount of money but I've already talked to a lawyer about it and it could end up in small claims court.

The good news is that my sister quickly found another property, which is better in many ways than the one we were going to buy. It's located in a higher traffic area, the property is larger, it's substantially cheaper than the other location, the layout is more conducive to a bakery, it's closer to my sister's house, and it's being sold directly by the owner. I just signed the closing papers today. We'll be doing some facilities work and equipment installs during August. Then we'll need to get it permitted as a bakery. We're expecting it to become operational towards the end of August, so we're planning a grand opening for September. I'll be glad when it's all done and we can focus more on operations and growth.

During the latter half of July I took a week long excursion into the Mt Jefferson Wilderness Area. This was my last opportunity to get out for an extended period before I started working again. I was alone during the first half of my outing, backpacking and day hiking on the north and west sides of the wilderness. Amongst other places I visited Jefferson Park, a beautiful alpine meadow at the northern base of Mt Jefferson. I've often recognized photos and videos from Jefferson Park in various advertisements. It looked like the last day of winter was yesterday here. The lakes and trails were still mostly covered with snow. The views of the north side of Mt Jefferson were as impressive as I remember. It's still hard for me to believe that I'd gone up it years ago during a climb. The wildflowers were out in many of the places I walked through, adding to the beauty of the wilderness. I was reminded during the outing how easy it is to take water for granted if you spend a lot of time in the Pacific Northwest. It's all over the place here, to the point that the locals often complain about it. After various trips into the desert over the past year I keep thinking better to have too much water than too little. Of course, I may not feel that way after the wet season starts again.

On the fourth night of my Jefferson Wilderness trip I met El Chino, the NavUnit, and Frankie Five Angels (F5A) at the Pamelia Lake trailhead. Our plan was to climb Mt Jefferson, the centerpiece of the wilderness area. Mt Jefferson (or Jeff, as we often call it) is the second highest peak in Oregon. It's considered the most difficult of the major Oregon peaks. Relative to Oregon's other mountains, the approaches are long and start low. All of the routes to the summit also have some technical element to them. Despite multiple serious attempts none of us had ever made the summit. The NavUnit's planning and logistics module had put together a tight plan to maximize likelyhood of success, but there are always elements which are beyond human control. After spending the night at the trailhead we started up. The first day involved hiking, bushwhacking, and scrambling to a point above treeline. The goal was to get to at least 7800 ft. 7.5 hours and 4700 vertical feet later we were at a nice site on the southwest ridge of Jefferson. It had a great view south, right down the Pacific crest towards other major peaks. We set up stoves and began melting snow soon after our arrival. In keeping with the "slow and fat" tradition we had plenty of delicious food. The NavUnit's logistics module had wisely put El Chino in charge of the food. The seemingly endless Italian subs and homemade beef jerky kept us fed for most of the first day. For dinner we sampled shrimp jumblaya and beef stew with avocadoes and pita bread. We threw in some cheese just because we had so much of it. For dessert we had chocolate chip cookies. The crew discovered that an empty half avocado skin makes an excellent biodegrable bowl. I'm sure it's become a day of legend for the critters that scowered the area afterwards looking for flaunt (food we'd dropped). Compared to what's normally there to eat (rocks and ice, as far as I could tell) our flaunt must have been like manna from heaven. After eating dinner we went to bed.

We woke up at 2:00 AM the next morning to a clear sky and still air. It seemed warmer than it had been when we went to bed. Despite the warm air the snow was hard as concrete. The moon was bright enough that I often had my headlamp turned off. Conditions were ideal. After a few hours of scrambling up various forms of junk rock we reached the first technical section: a steep, exposed traverse under a rotten rock pinnacle. Conditions again fell in our favor, as the traverse was covered with frozen snow. The NavUnit found the best line higher up on the snowfield and we crossed with little incident (aside from El Chino's crampon coming off). A little more traversing and we were at the base of the final summit pinnacle. From there we climbed bare rock, mostly without active use of the rope. F5A, with the angels backing him up, lead a short belayed section on exposed technical rock. Two minutes later we were sunning ourselves on the summit. There was a wide grin on everyone's face. The climb had been something of a memorial for a coworker and friend of ours who's name also happened to be Jeff, but spelled Geoff. El Chino left Geoff's work badge on the summit, and added his name to ours on the summit register. After downclimbing and rappelling the summit pinnacle we crossed the still frozen snowfield. As soon as we finished crossing sunshine reached the snowfield. On a previous attempt I'd crossed the same snowfield later in the day after it had been softened by the sun. It much less intimidating this time around when it was frozen. We continued downwards. Upon reaching our camp we relaxed and ate for a while, then packed and headed back to the trailhead. It was about 6:30 PM when I got there. The NavUnit had to head back out and search for El Chino, who had made a wrong turn on a hiking trail. After saying goodbye I hopped into the Buffalo and sped off for home.

The Mt Jefferson climb seemed, in many ways, like the most appropriate way to spend the last weekend of my leave. I'm really happy that we all finally managed to get to the summit. Judging by the entries in the summit register visits are rare, in keeping with Jeff's reputation. Everything seemed to fall into place just right to enable our names to be added. Despite all the weight on my back (climbing gear is heavy) I felt pretty good during most of the climb. The bushwhacking section of the descent and the long boulder / scree field traverse we did as part of the descent were my least favorite parts. Still, I've felt much worse during other climbs, and considering what we'd done I felt pretty good. My feet weren't mangled at all (which is more than I can say for some of my climbing partners), and in a couple of days I'd mostly recovered. I also didn't wind up unable to walk or in a hospital, like Matt did after his 100 mile race (see Matt's Big Blog). I was pretty fat really.

The Water Buffalo's overheating problem seems to have been cured (or at least sufficiently mitigated to enable me to drive it long distances) by my tightening of a hose clamp. I have had to use the old trick of turning on the heater a few times when it was running hot. Luckily there's a heater both up front and in the back, so together they add substantial engine cooling capacity. I keep meaning to check the radiator fan. It seems like I used to be able to hear it when it was running, and I never hear it anymore. Since the heater trick works pretty well I may never get to it. On the way back from a bike ride with Ann the Buffalo died on the highway and refused to restart. It turns out to have run out of gas. The gas gauge doesn't work and I'd been driving it so little that I'd forgotten when I last refueled it.

Tomorrow's my first day back at work. I don't know what I'll be doing yet, as I'm returning in the middle of a reorganization. I showed up at the HP cafeteria a couple of weeks ago to have lunch with a coworker. Several other coworkers showed up at the table. I told them stories from my trip. Their reactions were pretty varied, but they all seemed entertained.

Photos from the Mt Jefferson excursion (including the climb) are here. The photo at the top is from Jefferson Park looking south across a lake towards the north side of Mt Jefferson.

By the way, I added a "Favorite Quotes & Sayings" and "Links" section off to the right of the El Viaje's main text. I don't know who most of the quotes or sayings are attributed to.

Enjoying the Northwest

It's been a bit over a month since I returned to Corvallis. The weather, especially lately, is the kind of weather that reminds the natives of why they live here.

I've mostly stayed in Corvallis since I returned. In fact, the Buffalo's still on the same tank of gas that I originally arrived on. I've been running and biking a lot, pretty much every day. I've also been doing a lot of cooking. Ann and I have had home cooked dinners every day. Other than that I've been putting time into the bakery.

I decided to move ahead with the purchase of a commercial property for the bakery. I waffled a bit on whether to go ahead and purchase the property or wait and see how the sales went. What finally convinced me was a quote request we got from a corporate customer in early June. We didn't get the order in the end, but had we gotten it it would have been worth a couple tens of thousands of dollars. I don't know how we could have actually filled it baking out of my sister's house. We bid on it anyway, thinking we'd figure it out later. In any case, I took it as a sign to get ready for larger orders. The contract for the property has been signed and we're scheduled to take possession on August 1. Preliminary sales figures for June look like they dropped relative to May, but we got a lot of orders during June for July and August delivery.

My other big project has been an upgrade to the bakery's web site. I've been trying to do all of it myself. It's required a lot of learning, especially since I decided to use Flash technology for the product image gallery. It's been a real challenge, but the programming part is mostly done. I'm slowly realizing that the most challenging part (graphic design) may still be ahead of me. I've never been much of an artist, and it seems like this phase could use some artistic skills. I'll see how it goes. I'd like to have it all up and running by the end of July.

I guess the other big news is that I decided to return to HP when my leave ends at the end of July. I really didn't think I was going to return. A big part of the reason I am returning is that HP is allowing me to return as a part time employee. I was surprised that HP would allow me to return part time, given that head count at the Corvallis site is being reduced. I think it was agreed to in part because it involves a reduction in my pay scale. I'll be dropping down to the pay scale that I was on seven years ago, when I was a specialist engineer. It doesn't really matter to me. I was prepared to live on very little income prior to deciding to return, so it all seems like a boon. What I mainly wanted out of the deal was more free time than a full time position would give me. Admittedly, I'd prefer not being tied down to a geographic location, but there are some nice side benefits to being in Corvallis.

I have taken a couple of excursions with my climbing buddies since I returned. Earlier in June the Nav Unit (Chris), El Chino (Al), and I took a two day trip to Smith Rock. Smith is the best known rock climbing area in the Northwest. I've been there many times, but my last trip was probably a few years ago. It's a beautiful place that's popular with both climbers and hikers. The first day we top roped a couple of routes that were at or above our abilities. The Nav Unit managed to get up both of them. El Chino and I spent a lot of time working the crux moves. I eventually wore myself out trying to figure out how to get up a rock rib. Climbing such routes really exposes the puzzle-like aspects of climbing. The route is a jigsaw puzzle that you have to put together. Attempting a certain move onto a certain spot is the equivalent of seeing if two pieces will fit. Falling off means the pieces didn't fit. On easier routes you can afford to be sloppy. There are many pieces that fit with each other, so you don't have to think too hard. On these routes, at least for me, the pieces had to go together just right.

The next day we lead some rock routes. I got to practice my trad leading again. Trad leading has some game-like aspects as well. First place is the equivalent of getting to the top without falling or hanging on the rope. If you win, the gear and rope were actually a useless, expensive hindrance. The rock has, in a sense, played a joke on you. It fooled you into thinking that you needed a bunch of gear when you actually needed none of it. You think you've won, but were you actually suckered? This realization is, to me, part of the appeal of solo climbing (climbing with no gear at all). Last place is, of course, falling and getting killed. Like all games, there are a variety of strategies that you can follow. At one end of the spectrum is "fast and lazy." The premise behind this strategy is that hauling and placing gear is hard work and takes time. All of the energy you spend messing with the gear is energy that doesn't go into the climbing itself. Better to place minimal gear so you can put all your effort into actual climbing. Soloing is just fast and lazy taken to it's logical conclusion. At the other of the spectrum is "slow and secure." Here, the premise is that you can easily kill or severely injure yourself while climbing. Best to haul and place a lot of gear. Yes, it takes time, but isn't your life worth it? As I progress with my trad leading I'm finding out where I fall on this spectrum. It won't surprise many of you that, relative to the Nav Unit, I'm on the lazy end of things. It's also worth mentioning that the Nav Unit has never had a broken bone and I've had several.

Besides Smith, my other, more recent excursion was a trip I took with Matt to climb Mt Baker. Mt Baker is situated in the northwestern corner of the continental US. It's 30 miles from the Pacific coast and 15 miles from the Canadian border. Baker has the distinction of being the "snowiest" (known) place on Earth. It holds the world record for cumulative snowfall in a single season. 95 ft in the 1998-1999 season. Certainly, there is a lot of snow on Mt Baker. To me, Mt Baker looked like a head of rock struggling to keep above a sheet of glacier ice. The ice extended over the top of Mt Baker in the form of an ice cap. Only on the front part of the head, where the face is located, could you see some rock. Nature was busy here, turning the ice into rivers which fed the valleys below. The sketchiest part of the whole trip was the approach hike, which involved crossing raging torrents of ice water. Matt found a wonderful camp site at 7200 ft on a high ridge. It had spectacular views in all directions and we had it to ourselves. The nicest places are found in spots that no road leads to. While mining ice for subsequent processing into water Matt discovered a patch of ice worms. These critters spend their entire lives (3-5 years) in glaciers. After a big dinner we tried to sleep. At 1:30 AM we started preparing for our summit bid.

We had originally hoped to climb the North Ridge of Baker, but decided against it due to the warm temperatures and possibility of thunderstorms. Instead we climbed the Coleman - Deming route. This route mostly runs on glaciers. It's pretty straight forward and never too steep. Snow conditions were sloshy, but improved a bit halfway up. We saw some mean looking thunder clouds once it got light, and it rained a bit higher up, but the weather held out and got better later in the day. Matt's training for his 100 mile run paid off and we made fast progress up. We reached the summit around 6:30 AM, apparently the first party to summit that day. Shortly after our arrival we saw the sun for the first time. After taking photos we headed back down. We passed about a dozen climbers heading up as we descended. Judging by all the tracks we saw this route is quite popular. On the way down we saw crevasses and hanging glaciers we'd missed during the night. The hanging glaciers were pretty impressive. They looked to be 400 or 500 ft thick. Below them were house sized chunks of ice which had calved off from the glacier higher up. Yep, it snows a lot here.

After resting at our camp for a bit we decided to head back down. We had considered tooling around inside of a crevasse, but there was still a lot of snow and we figured we'd have better opportunities in August. I was back at my house by 9:00 PM. Technically I wasn't supposed to take possession of my house for another three hours but I decided to sleep there anyway. The renters had clearly left.

That's where things are for the moment. I expect it will take another few days to get fully situated in my house. After that I'll be back to work on the web site. Ann and I will probably take a weekend trip somewhere and another Cascades climb is in the works. Sometime in August I'll likely go ice climbing as well. The Buffalo's been getting a nice long rest. On the way out from Matt's house it overheated. Yesterday I found a cooling system leak up front. I tightened a clamp ring and the leak stopped. Hopefully that was the cause.

It's a little odd being back in the house. My first thought on seeing the inside is that it's a waste of space. When I removed the false wall in the garage where my stuff is stored I wondered why I had so many things. Clearly I didn't need them all. The only thing I wished I hadn't left were my snowshoes. I'll probably end up getting rid of some more things.

Photos from Baker are here. I didn't have a camera for the Smith trip. The photo at the top is from the summit of Mt Baker. The thunderclouds were moving north (left in the photo). Matt and I sat back and admired the view while we waited for the sun to come out from behind the clouds and warm us up.

Back In Corvallis

I arrived back in Corvallis on May 29th. It rained during my entire traverse across Oregon. A fitting welcome, I thought.

After leaving Monterrey and crossing back into the US at Laredo, Texas I headed west. I visited Guadalupe Mountains National Park just south of the New Mexico border and the nearby Carlsbad Caverns just on the other side of the NM border. I day hiked in the Guadalupes and managed to make the top of Texas's highest peak.

From there I headed more or less due north, stopping to see the Taos Pueblo. The pueblo is billed as the oldest continuously inhabited settlement in the US. I then crossed into south central Colorado. I spent several days there hiking and backpacking in the Great Dunes National Park and the adjacent Sangre de Cristo mountains. The dunes are the largest in the US. They seem out of place, being adjacent to lush pine forests and 14,000 ft snow capped peaks. During my backpacking trip into the dunes I was surprised to find various forms of life eeking out an existence amongst the sand. I attempted a nearby 14er but there was too much snow on the ground. Out of all the things I didn't have in the Buffalo probably what I most wish I had brought is a pair of snowshoes.

From the dunes I headed towards Denver. I stayed there with a friend for a few days and went downhill skiing with him one day. I hadn't skied all season and I really enjoyed our outing, as well as catching up from our last meeting. From there I picked up Ann at the airport and we headed to her brother's house in Boulder. I was there for a few days over the Memorial Day weekend. Her two nephews, like other young kids I encountered during my trip, enjoyed playing in the Buffalo. One of them spent the night in it with me. The younger one really enjoyed driving the Buffalo.

Ann and I took a day trip to Rocky Mountain National Park. From what I saw it's a great park. Anyone who likes mountains would love this place. The road which runs along the spine of the park had just opened for the season. It must be one of the highest roads in the US. The road traverses alpine tundra, normally an environment you can only see on foot (at least in the continental US). It was still early in the season (lots of snow) so hiking opportunities were limited (assuming you don't have snowshoes). I hope to return some day with snowshoes or under more favorable conditions.

Ann, her sister, brother, and oldest nephew also ran the Bolder Boulder. This is a 10k run billed as the largest timed race in the US. The run has a carnival atmosphere, with bands playing live music along the route, people running in various outlandish costumes, and cold beer waiting at the finish line. After having dinner with TO, an old high school buddy, I started driving again. I would have liked to stay longer and climb in the Flatirons near Boulder but it was raining and the weather outlook for the next few days suggested it would continue.

From Denver I headed more or less directly back to Corvallis. Returning to Corvallis was a little strange at first but I've quickly gotten used to it. It's nice to be back amongst old friends. Through bike rides with the boys and time spent with Ann I realized there were some little things that I missed. I also have a greater appreciation of the area than when I left.

I'm planning on staying in the Corvallis area at least through June. The bakery is doing well. Certainly, there are still some challenges, but May sales increased 230% over April's sales and we made a profit. Orders have come in from various parts of Houston. My sister's been very busy, often staying up into the wee hours to complete orders. We've made offers on a commercial property in Texas City. The business name will have to change due to a conflict we discovered when we attempted to register the business with the state of Texas. We've also started looking at the supply chain more carefully. To date my sister's been purchasing supplies from local grocery stores. We've been contacting wholesale distributors looking for better deals on bulk deliveries of the most used ingredients. We want to continue our sales growth, in part through further marketing. Amongst other things this involves making improvements to the web site. We're also working on improving our accounting practices. Anyhow, it's all kept me somewhat busy. It almost feels like I'm back at HP. Certainly, I'm having to learn quite a lot, something which I'm enjoying.

I hope to take a few days off in June to take advantage of this year's abundant snowpack in the Cascades. A trip up Rainier, Hood, and / or Jefferson with the boys is in the works. I've been running with Ann (who is training for another race) often and have also returned to mountain biking the local trails. Beyond June there's uncertainty. Once we take possession of a property I'll likely fly down to Texas City to help with the start-up, but I don't know exactly when that will be. Meanwhile, I plan on continuing blog updates.

Here's some photos from this most recent leg of my trip. My camera died in Colorado, so some of the photos are from my cell phone's camera. The photo at the top is of a caterpillar I encountered in the middle of the Colorado dunes. I watched him for a good while, curious to see where he was going. It was very windy that day. He was frequently blown over, and struggled up the piles of sand. Despite this he kept going, but I never figured where he was heading. Only he knows, I suppose.

For those who are interested, the total trip mileage (starting from when I left Corvallis in September) was 19819 miles. The Buffalo's still alive, although I had to apply some duct tape to keep the bumpers from falling off. I'm giving it a good rest by seeing how long I can go without using it.

Many thanks to everyone who made El Viaje a once in a lifetime experience!

Monterrey & Mexico City

I made my last entry just before leaving Texas City. Since then I've driven to Monterrey, Mexico.

My trip to Monterrey was fairly uneventful until I arrived at the northern outskirts of the city. At that point the Buffalo began to falter. At first it lost power, and shortly thereafter the engine died, refusing to restart. After waiting for 20 or 30 minutes it started again. I'd drive for a bit, then it would die again. I slowly crawled through the city by repeating this cycle multiple times. At one point, while in the city center, I found myself pushing the Buffalo down a six lane avenue in rush hour traffic. I was making slow progress to the south side of the city, where my aunts and uncles live. Darkness was coming, and I gradually realized that I'd likely be spending the night somewhere in downtown Monterrey. I called one of my uncles to let him know that I'd be arriving late. It turns out he was out driving around looking for me. He found me and convinced me to call a tow truck. I finally arrived at his house in the evening. The Buffalo was fixed the next day. It needed a new fuel pump.

I spent my first few days in Monterrey catching up with the many relatives I have there. In addition, my mom had asked me to take care of some matters related to a property she has here. Once I'd gotten the ball rolling on my mom's property I began to explore the areas around Monterrey.

Monterrey is a big city. The city and the surrounding metro area have a population of around four million people. It's Mexico's third largest city. In terms of GDP per capita it's also the wealthiest city in the western hemisphere south of the US. Anyone who's visited other parts of Mexico will notice the difference in wealth. It wasn't always this way. The big change seems to have come with NAFTA. The city's reputation as an industrial center and it's proximity to the US border placed it in a good position to take advantage of the trade liberalization introduced by NAFTA.

One of Monterrey's nicknames is "La Ciudad de las Montañas" (The City of the Mountains). It's an apt description. The Sierra Madre range rises like a wall south of the city, just a few miles from downtown. To the east rises Cerro de la Silla (Saddleback Mountain), an oddly shaped mountain that is a symbol of Monterrey as well as the state of Nuevo Leon. Another mountain, with great craters on its side (a result of blasts used to dislodge limestone for cement production) rises to the west. I was born here. Growing up on the gulf coast of Texas meant that the mountains of Monterrey were the first mountains I'd even known.

I've traveled many times to Monterrey, most often while growing up in Texas City. During previous trips I'd mostly visited family. Although we often took excursions to the surrounding countryside, we'd always visited easy to reach places that were frequented by locals. This visit was my first opportunity to check out some of the more remote spots that don't see many visitors.

My visits only deepened my admiration for the place of my birth. As with Las Vegas, I found a variety of opportunities for the outdoor enthusiast, in some cases just a ten or fifteen minute drive from downtown.

The closest is the Sierra Madre Oriental. This range stretches from its northern terminus at Monterrey southward for 2000 miles. It's a natural wall which limits the city's southward expansion. I visited this range several times during my stay, including once when Al Nagao (a buddy from Oregon) flew down for a few days. Scrambling along the jagged ridge line you see the metropolis of Monterrey to one side and the wilds of the Cumbres de Monterrey (Mexico's second largest national park) on the other side. The terrain in and around the park offers all kinds of hiking, backpacking, and climbing opportunities. It's a vast area that (speaking from personal experience) is easy to get lost in. Water can be a problem. Monterrey itself is arid and desert-like. The rock, however, is porous limestone, and contains underground water. I came across a couple of springs while exploring the Sierra Madre, and also found a few isolated pools and cisterns. The limestone and underground water produces some spectacular caverns, the most famous of which are Grutas de Garcia, just a dozen miles or so outside of the city. During my explorations I found a few caves and abandoned mines. The rough roads within the Cumbres are best explored on a mountain bike. I managed to get the Buffalo stuck on one occasion and had to call on a farm tractor to pull me out.

There are some large rock walls within the Cumbres, which are climbed using big wall techniques. Someone had just finished a new route in the Cumbres when I was there. It had taken four days to complete and required the use of a portaledge. The best technical rock, however, was in El Potrero Chico. This place is just outside of the small town of Hidalgo, about 15 miles northwest of Monterrey. I climbed there with Al for a couple of days. El Potrero is arguably the most well known technical rock climbing area in Mexico. The reasons are obvious once you visit. It's a two hour drive from the US border, or a 30 minute drive from Monterrey's airport. A paved road takes you, in some cases literally, to the bottom of several routes. Many more routes can be found within a two minute walk from the car. There's a pool right next to the road where you can refresh yourself after a day of climbing. Plenty of free camping can be had just off the road, and the quaint town of Hidalgo is just a mile or two away. If you want to do some wilderness climbing there are plenty of opportunities further inside El Potrero.

The routes were typically sport routes. Closely spaced, modern bolts that are in good condition encourage you to push your leading skills on harder routes. When I asked a woman from Colorado what kind of rack I needed she said simply "20 quickdraws." Some of the lines are huge. I found a 6000 ft long, 50 pitch 5.9 in the guide book. It's no wonder El Potrero is sometimes referred to as the "Yosimite of Mexico." The routes tended to be juggy, with lots of natural buckets of varying sizes. I'm guessing you can climb here during most of the year due to the dry climate and relatively warm temperatures. Summers would probably be the least desirable season owing to the furnace-like desert temperatures, but even then you could probably find routes that are in the shade.

Further away from Monterrey, but still within an hour's drive there's a lake, a large accessible spring you can bathe in, and (at higher elevations) forested regions where many Monterreyans have weekend cabins to escape the heat.

Besides Monterrey I also took a short side trip (via airplane and bus) to Mexico City to visit family. I'd never been to Mexico City, but many people had warned me about traveling there. The picture they painted was a densely packed, crime infested and polluted place that no-one likes. Happily, that picture was a bit exaggerated. Certainly, there are a lot of people there, and traffic can be awful, but there are also a lot of parks and greenery spread throughout the city. What I liked most about Mexico City was the climate. The city center is 7300 ft above sea level. This results in a cool, relatively wet climate, very different from Monterrey's more extreme desert environment. There were often thunderstorms in the afternoon. Trees grow easily in such a climate, making it a naturally green city.

Mexico City has a lot of history. Originally founded by the Aztecs as Tenochitlan, the capital of their empire, the city became known as Mexico once the Spaniards defeated the Aztecs. It served as a colonial capital until Mexico's independence in the early 1800s, and Mexico's capital thereafter. Today it's the world's second largest city. While visiting the city's central square (called the Zocalo) I found some interesting contrasts. Ancient Aztec ruins were sandwiched between the colonial era Presidential Palace and modern glass office towers. Shaman performed ceremonies to ward off evil spirits just outside the city cathedral. Tens of thousands of protesters swarmed into the square to protest against a wide variety of policies (notably, recently proposed reforms of the state owned oil company) in return for a free bus trip, lunch, and a few pesos. It was an odd mix of sights, and a reminder of Mexico's blend of indigenous and Spanish culture. Owing to time constraints I didn't get to explore the outdoor recreation opportunities near Mexico City, but I know that there are a couple of 18,000+ ft volcanoes nearby.

Accompanied by a cousin, I returned to Monterrey via overnight bus with stomach problems. My stomach problems lasted for a week. I've recovered now, it's getting hot here, and my business is finished, so I'm thinking it's time to start the return trip back to Oregon. On the way back I'm going to stop in Denver to visit some friends. Ann will be there as well with her family over the Memorial Day weekend. I'll likely pay a visit to Rocky Mountain National Park. Other than that my stops will depend on what other interesting places I encounter along the way.

Photos from Monterrey and Mexico City are here.

Not Building A Bakery (Yet), On The Road Again

It's been about six weeks since I arrived in Texas City. My stay was a bit longer than I had anticipated. Much of my stay was focused on my sister's bakery. The plan was to convert my sister's garage into a cake and cookie bakery. During the first half of my stay I was getting up every day, going to work at my sister's place, and returning to my mom's at the day's end. The first big task was to build a shed and move the stuff in the garage into it. Next big task was gutting the garage interior. Work progressed faster than I had thought it would.

Once the garage was gutted we were ready to start on the utilities work. The electrical system for the house needed an upgrade so it could handle the additional power requirements of the bakery. It was then that we got some bad news. The city's electrical inspector would not issue a permit for the work that was needed. My sister had spoken to the government officials some time back about the project. The person she had talked to, who was in the health department (and is now retired), had given a verbal okay for the project. Turns out he shouldn't have given the approval. The electrical inspector wouldn't permit the work on the grounds of zoning laws. After a brief meeting with the city officials they gave us a unanimous "no."

We moved from denial to acceptance in record time, then began looking for commercial properties which would be in compliance with the zoning laws. We found an ideal building that's pretty much ready to go. All we'd have to do is move in the capital equipment. The seller also seems to be eager to get rid of the property. A financial analysis, however, showed that the operating costs would be significantly higher at the commercial property than they would have been had we kept to the original plan. At current sales volumes we'd have a difficult time covering the operating costs. So, our focus moved towards increasing sales through marketing. The marketing effort seems to be paying off, but it's clear that it will take greater sales (about 50% more) to hit the point where the business will be self sustaining at the commercial location. For now, the bakery continues to operate out of my sister's kitchen, and the commercial property remains available.

If nothing else, the bakery project has been a good learning experience. No doubt we would do some things differently if we were starting the project all over again. Like riding a bike, it seems you have to fall a few times before you figure it out. The injuries could have been worse, as we hadn't taken deliveries on the construction materials or the capital equipment and we were able to cancel the orders. Hopefully I'll be returning soon to acquire the commercial property. My sister is certainly determined. Stubbornness seems to run in the family. I think given our financial resources we've made a good marketing effort (more learnings there also), but it will take some time to see if the sales consistently come in.

Other than the bakery, I've spent time with Ann (she dropped in for a long weekend shortly after my arrival), my sister's kids and some old high school friends. Towards the end of March TO, one of my old high school buddies, came down from Colorado for a long weekend. I hooked up with him and Elmo at a beach house for one night. It felt like the past 20 years had suddenly been erased. The reunion reminded me of why it's probably best both for ourselves and the local population that we remain separated by a few thousand miles. I don't know what aspects of our individual personalities causes it, but when the three of us get together it's typically lead to trouble. Even now our parents tell us to "Be careful" when they know we're going to be together. Thankfully, it was only one night. Had it been a whole week the Buffalo would now be a diving wreck in the Gulf of Mexico, a nice house would be ruined, and a boat that belongs to none of us would never have been seen again.

Towards the end of my stay I entered some photos from my trip in a local art festival. A photo from the North Cascades won first prize, so I stayed a little longer than I'd been planning in order to attend opening night of the festival (and collect the prize money). The festival's still going on, but I've been living the civilized life for too long. The Buffalo beckons. Time to saddle up again and continue El Viaje. I'll be heading back into Mexico. I'm planning on visiting relatives in Monterrey and Mexico City, and hope to get some backpacking and climbing in as well.

I'll miss my family and friends in Texas City. I've spent more time with my mom than I have since my summer vacations during my college days. I've always admired my mom's attitude towards life, and that admiration only grew during my stay. I've slowly realized over the years how much of that attitude has been transferred to me.

The photo at the top is from a bike ride I went on with my niece and nephew. During our ride we encountered the trail hazard seen in the bottom left of the photo. I was tempted to bunny hop it, but poked it with a stick instead. We beat a rapid retreat when it snarled at us.

Big Bend & Building A Bakery

Thought I'd update everyone on El Viaje.

Since returning to the US I've spent time in Big Bend National Park, driven across Texas, and done a lot of work on my sister's bakery in Texas City. Somewhere during this time frame Ann paid me a visit.

Big Bend is located in west Texas. The southern boundary of the park is the Rio Grande, which forms the border between Texas and Mexico. Anyone who's ever visited west Texas knows that there isn't much out there. Tiny towns are separated by great distances set in a vast landscape of mountains, hills, and desert. Big Bend is a large, remote park. True to its name (and the tendency of Texans to "call it what it is"), the park is set along a spot where the Rio Grande takes a big turn from south to north as it heads towards the Gulf of Mexico. Centered in the park is the Chisos Mountain range. Surrounding the central range is an arid, lower elevation stretch of the Chihuahuan desert.

I started my visit with a five day backpacking trip which took me through and around the Chisos. On my first day out I met John and Ray. They were a couple of Canadians who were on a seven week tour of the southeastern US. Big Bend was the westernmost point of their trip. I've always liked Canadians. Relative to most Americans they're more laid back and easy going. Ray and John proved to be no exception. Ray and John were partners in a window washing business located in Toronto. They were living out of a two door Honda Civic. Their Civic carried a ladder tied to a roof rack which had been drilled directly into the sheet metal. Turns out they'd been funding their trip by washing windows along the way. I learned quite a bit about the window washing business from them and admired their unique and ingenious approach to funding their vacation.

As it turned out that we were doing roughly the same route. We often hiked together, sharing food, water, and camp on a couple of occasions. Ray was an expert window washer. He was capable of simultaneously washing windows with both hands and had come close to the world record time for washing a standard sized window pane. I learned a lot about how to properly and quickly wash a window from him. If ever there was such a thing as professional window washer, Ray was it. John had a business degree and knew a lot about marketing. His advice will be very useful for the start-up of my sister's business.

We summitted Emory Peak, the highest point in the park, on the first day. While I was taking my typical "Slow and Fat" approach to backpacking, Ray and John were on the "Slow and Thin" program. Ray was hauling a type of small backpack more often used for hauling books on college campuses than for multi day treks in the desert. He was wearing heavy steel toed boots which he normally wore while washing high rise windows. John was carrying a slightly larger day pack. They were hauling almost no food, no stove, no shelter, thin Coleman sleeping bags, and what turned out to be an inadequate amount of water. They had an abundance of enthusiasm, however. Neither of them had ever been to the desert or even undertaken a real backpacking trip. They were in a constant state of wonder and awe as we trekked along the route. I taught them what I'd learned about desert backpacking, provided them with hot food, and gave them some of my water when they ran out. Near the end of our trek I invited them to join me for a float down the Rio Grande in the Sea Hawk. They readily and gratefully accepted my invitation. After some car shuttling we set out for a two day trip which started at the western end of the park.

The Sea Hawk was billed as a four person watercraft. With three guys and overnight gear it was a tight fit, but we all managed to squeeze in. The Rio Grande is a dirty river. The muck in some parts smelled like sewage, no doubt due to livestock and the fact that one of its banks was a third world country. It's also very shallow in parts, requiring on multiple occasions that we exit the Sea Hawk and pull it along as we waded through the shallows. During our trip I saw a dog, a cow, and two women cross the river. All of them were heading from Mexico to the US. The day our trip ended I saw a minivan with Mexican plates drive across the river from the US to Mexico. I was surprised at how permeable the border was. While in Mexico I was asked on a couple of occasions if I'd be willing to take carry my inquisitor across the border to the US. At the time I thought it was a ridiculous request given my previous experiences with international border crossings. My most recent border crossing experience had only reinforced this view. (The van was searched for 20 minutes by five border patrol officers and a dog when I crossed from Mexico into the US.) After spending two days on a remote section of the border, however, my view changed substantially. It'd be pretty easy to get just about anything through this part of the border, especially if you're on foot and have some desert backpacking experience.

We spent our one night out on a beach on the Mexican bank. We joked that the Mexican border patrol would pick us up an deport us. In my case it would have been a short journey, just 30 feet to the opposite bank. In the case of Ray and John it would have been a good way to save money on their return trip, which they were planning on undertaking immediately after the river float.

What the river lacked in water quality it more than made up for in scenery. The Santa Elena Canyon was especially spectacular. I had not realized that such canyons existed along this river. The Santa Elena is a narrow slot canyon with shear sides rising over a thousand feet. In some places boulders the size of office buildings had fallen into the river. Some portions held deep water. John and I took turns scaling the walls along one deep water section. The canyon also held the most challenging rapids of the float. They were class three rapids. Not very high given the one to six scale used for rating rapids, but with our craft and incompetence we managed to come within a hair's breadth of emptying the Sea Hawk of it's contents.

Our float ended soon after exiting the canyon, somewhat later in the day than we had expected. After a hasty goodbye, exchange of contact information, and expression of desire to meet in Houston in December, John and Ray immediately began their return journey to Canada. I enjoyed their company and their excellent stories (best left unrecorded) and hope to see them again some time in the future.

After some solo hiking in the park I began winding my way eastward along back roads towards the Gulf Coast. It seemed to get hotter the further east I went, so I stopped for a haircut in a border town. I'd planned on just a trimming, but when the barber attempted to run his comb through my matted hair I remembered that I hadn't bathed in quite a while. Unwilling to tolerate the thick hair I somewhat reluctantly told him to cut it with clippers all the way around.

Further on the Water Buffalo's engine suddenly died while pulling away from a stoplight just as I'd answered a phone call. The fellow behind me helped me push it across the intersection to a safe spot. After checking a few things I witnessed a car accident at the same intersection. The driver of one of the cars pulled up next to me and, without getting out of her car, asked me how badly her car was damaged. I told her that the right front wheel was at an odd angle and sheet metal was rubbing on the tire. After suggesting that she find a place to park and wait for the police she made a remark about "not having any other vehicle to drive" then took off down the street. After the police took my statement I tried starting the van. It seemed to be running as well as it ever had. It was an odd sequence of events, as if the engine had died just so I could witness the car accident, and the whole sequence had been triggered by a phone call. I shrugged my shoulders and after a night's rest kept driving.

After stopping to enjoy the surf at a beach, I reached my sister's house in Texas City in the early evening. The next morning the van died and refused to restart. True to it's beast of burden nature, the Buffalo had carried me to my destination, but once it had arrived, it stubbornly refused to do any more work. A $30 voltage regulator cajoled it into running long enough to discover that it was overheating again. Another $30 to replace the fitting that was repaired in Mexico fixed the overheating. Since then I've changed the oil, given it a good wash (free with the oil change), and driven it minimally. I figure it's earned a good rest, and it's still got a lot of work left to do.

Within a week of my arrival Ann flew in for a long weekend. We hung out with friends and family, and visited the local attractions. I even put her to work on the bakery construction. It was great to see her and my friends and family enjoyed meeting her. My sister's pets especially enjoyed her visit.

Other than the few days Ann was here I've been working every day since my arrival on the bakery business. The plan is to convert my sister's garage into a cake and cookie bakery with all the necessary permits. So far we've added drainage on the exterior (the garage had been flooding when it rained), built a shed, moved everything out of the garage, and gutted the garage's interior back to the frame. I'm ordering the construction materials today. The work has gone a bit quicker than I thought it would. Many friends and family have helped (my sister's racking up the free cakes) and even more have offered to help (don't worry, I won't forget to call you). I've also learned a lot about demolition and construction. I'm happy to report that the "safety third" philosophy has been successfully deployed in a new environment. I'm hoping to have it all finished by the end of March. Once we have the permits we'll be doing some marketing for the business. (Gotta put that new capital to use!) After the start-up is complete I'll be heading back to Mexico to visit family. I expect to leave for Monterrey some time in April.

That's it for now. Hope all is well back in Oregon. Photo links are here.

Baja, Chihuahua, Victorio Statue, El Magnifico Misses An Opportunity

Since my last entry the Water Buffalo was cured of it's ills and I crossed over into Mexico.

The Buffalo was diagnosed with a fuel starvation problem caused by a bad ECU (the main engine control computer). The ECU would occasionally stop sending a signal to the fuel injectors, resulting in the cutting out which I was experiencing. The cure was replacement of the ECU. Apparently this is a common problem on these engines. The shop had a collection of these ECUs, all of them labeled with "cuts out or "stops running." Fortunately there's a shop in Los Angeles which refurbishes these units. Unfortunately, the part cost almost $1000. So far the problem hasn't recurred.

After stopping to acquire Mexican auto insurance and exchange dollars for pesos I crossed into Tijuana. Crossing the border wasn't what I had expected to be. I didn't have to stop or speak with anyone. I hardly even slowed down. I wondered if I somehow managed to slip through some place where I should have stopped. It seemed odd that the Mexican government wouldn't at least want to know who's entered the country, or have a chance to inspect incoming vehicles for contraband. I later discovered that I was supposed to have stopped and picked up a tourist visa. After paying a fine I later obtained a visa and a temporary vehicle import permit in La Paz.

After crossing I headed south on the main highway that runs along the length of the Baja peninsula. For the first 50 miles or so the highway is basically an interstate. After that however, it turns into a shoulder-less two lane road, filled with cars, 18 wheelers, buses, and RVs from north of the border (especially, it seemed, Canada). Driving on the road brought back pleasant memories of traveling to Mexico with my parents and siblings. Before my father died we travelled regularly to Mexico in an old van along a very similar highway. Us kids would play games and sleep on the floor while my parents took turns driving. It was a bit of shock to suddenly realize that, many years later, I once again was on a narrow Mexican road in an old van which I slept in. I had always looked forward to those childhood trips because I knew that at the end there were a bunch of cousins (there were twelve children on my mother's side) to play with.

More pleasant childhood memories came rushing back when I took a dip into the Pacific Ocean on a deserted stretch of beach I'd found. When I was a kid growing up in Texas my parents often took us to the nearby beach. I always enjoyed playing in the sand, but even more I enjoyed getting tossed around by the surf. I remember being very disappointed when I moved to Oregon and discovered that the ocean water was too cold to wade in. I ended up spending the night on the beach. Early the next morning five men showed up in a beat up truck and began picking up stones from the beach. After getting dressed I asked one fellow what they did with the stones. He said they sold them in a nearby town, from which they were shipped to Tijuana, where they were sold for use in the construction business. Picking up rocks seems like a pretty thin living, but I suppose they weren't in a position to pick and choose how they made their living.

On my way down the peninsula I took a detour to visit San Pedro Martir National Park. This park has the highest peak on the peninsula. The peak's name is El Pichado del Diablo (The Devil's Peak). I think it's a bit over 10,000 ft in height. I went on a three day backpacking trip, intending to summit the peak. I was surprised to find snow, water ice, forests with tall stands of cedar, and outcroppings of grey granite. The scenery bore an uncanny resemblence to parts of southern Idaho I'd visited earlier in my travels. I wasn't certain at the time, but I don't think I managed to summit El Diablo. After backtracking multiple times and trying various routes I managed to get to the top of a peak which looked like it could be the highest peak in the area. There was a pen at the top but no register. From the top I could see the Bay of California to the east and the Pacific Ocean to the west. I gradually came to the realization that I didn't know where I was, wished I had the Nav Unit with me, and backtracked all the way back to the Buffalo. On the way back I saw a sign for an astronomical observatory. I figured it was worth a visit. After parking at a locked gate I hiked up to a building which housed a large optical telescope. It was from there that I finally saw El Diablo. It definitely was not the peak I had gone up. It was an impressive looking peak, reminiscent of some of the peaks I saw in the Idaho Sawtooths. I briefly considered making another attempt, but I couldn't identify a route from that vantage point, so I figured I'd most likely get lost again. I headed back towards the highway.

Continuing south, the highway cut inland into a vast desert filled with cacti. I spent a couple of days in the desert practicing animal trapping (didn't catch anything) before continuing on. After the inland desert the road briefly followed the Pacific coast. On a dirt road off the highway I found a hidden lagoon with a few fishing boats, a shack, and two trucks. I intended to stay for a couple of days and explore a bit, but I soon got myself stuck in the sand. How uncharacteristic of a water buffalo to be stuck in the mire, I thought. Seeing my predicament, a man drove out from the shack and spent the better part of his afternoon helping to get me out. His name was Narcisso. He was an older fellow, so I took to calling him "Don Narcisso" ("Don" being a title of respect). Afterwards he invited me to his shack for coffee. His shack was about the size of my van and was made out of old pieces of plywood, tin sheets, and pieces of plastic. I hung out with him for a couple of days, sharing coffee, chatting about various topics, and exchanging stories from our lives. He had been a fisherman for forty years, but couldn't work anymore because his knees had given out. He said making a living as a fisherman had become very difficult anyway. Too many fishermen and not enough fish, he explained. He now spent five days a week living in the shack to watch over the fishing boats while their owners were home for the evening. He never asked me for anything despite the trouble I'd put him through and refused to accept anything from me when I offered.

Soon after the lagoon the highway headed east, eventually reaching the eastern coast of the peninsula. A bit before reaching the east coast the highway passed near the town of San Ignacio. I stopped there to check out a campground which a Canadian fellow who I'd earlier met had recommended. He said he would be there. I've taken to avoiding places which require paying for a spot to spend the night (a practice which I learned is known as "boondocking" amongst the RV crowd), but it sounded like a good deal and an idyllic setting. It was indeed an idyllic setting. San Ignacio is a literal oasis in the desert. A desert spring had been dammed up, creating a small lake surrounded by reeds and palm trees. The campground was right on the lake. The Canadian fellow was there as promised. The campground was owned by a different ex-pat Canadian. It wasn't quite as good a deal as I'd been lead to believe, but considering what was included (use of a kayak, showers, WiFi, an excellent breakfast, and a real bed) it was pretty good living for the money.

The next day I reached the town of Santa Rosalia and for the first time saw the Bay of California (also called the Sea of Cortez) up close. Santa Rosalia wasn't much to my liking (it's an old industrial town), so I continued on. Later I would return to Santa Rosalia to take the ferry across the bay. The highway stays near the east coast for a good stretch. I spent a couple of days on some empty beaches between Mulege and Loreto before continuing on towards Loreto.
Near Loreto I met a Czech fellow (now living in Denver) named George. I ended up parking the Buffalo next to him and his wife's camp site. They were living out of their van, like I was. The day before I met George his wife had caught their van on fire. It actually looked pretty bad. A rear interior quarter panel had turned into a molten pile of plastic and she had suffered burns on her hands. Luckily she'd managed to put out the fire before the whole van was engulfed. Some of the wiring had been burned through, resulting in various electrical problems. I spent a morning playing electrical engineer and repaired the electrical system. They really appreciated this and often invited me over for dinner during the remainder of my stay there. George and I also went on a hike up a canyon together.

Later I went on a backpacking trip up into the same canyon I'd day hiked with George. I really enjoyed the canyon. It contained a series of minature oases formed by pools in the rock. There were occasional water falls and places where the water had worn a natural water slide into the rock. I dropped down some of the water slides into the pools. One night I had my first bivy of the entire trip. I managed to get lost and was unable to find my way to camp before it got dark. All I had were shorts, a t-shirt, and a fleece, all of which were mostly wet. My night out reminded of one of the definitions of a bivy: A place where you lie down and shiver for the night. It wasn't the most pleasant night of my life, but I managed to get by.

The place where I purposely spent the night was much nicer. I'd found the perfect spot under a garage sized boulder. The ground here was fine sand. It conformed very nicely to my body. Since it was under a monolith of rock it was dry. Further into the little cave under the boulder there was a perfect spot for a fire. Moving away from the cave but still under the boulder (thus affording protection from the rain) was a bunch of dried plant matter which I used as fuel for the fire. I slept between the fire and the fuel. No need for a bivy sack here. Even the sleeping bag seemed superfluous. When the fire got low all I had to do was move the fuel from one side of my body to the other. I found a few plants nearby that were edible. Some of them were actually pretty tasty.

On the hike back to the van I ran into some construction workers. They looked rather menacing at first. One of them had two tools that looked like ice picks in his hands. He initiated a conversation with me, asking me for a cigarette. Later another five or six crossed to my side of the street, one of them with a machete in his hand. We started chatting. They asked me all kinds of questions, mostly about what I'd been doing. I suggested that we stage a photo, with them holding the machete and picks in a threatening fashion. I would then send the photo and an email to friends and family, claiming that I'd been kidnapped. If anyone sent ransom money I'd split it with them. They all had a good laugh from it. I would have taken the photo if my camera hadn't run out of batteries. When I left I promised to return on the next working day to show them some of the photos. I did return, but I forgot to take a ransom photo. I think they enjoyed my visits. At least, it was a good excuse to stop working. Not that they needed an excuse. Even by their own account, they weren't actually doing much in the way of work.

After visiting the construction workers I continued south. I stopped in La Paz (where I fixed my permit situation), Cabo San Lucas (at the very southern tip of the Baja peninsula), and Todos Santos. Of these three I spent the most time in Todos Santos. This was a charming town on the Pacific side. It was a surfing hot spot. I mountain biked, hiked, and got into the water again. From Todos Santos I headed back north to Loreto. I had bought a dingy from the Czech fellow. I called it the "Sea Hawk" since that's what was printed on it. I rowed it out to an island, taking snorkeling gear along with a homemade spear. The water was very clear, and there were a lot of sea critters to see. It was like swimming in a giant tide pool. Despite all the creatures I didn't manage to spear anything. I had wanted to paddle further out and spend more nights on another island, but the on day I had set for this the wind had picked up and the sea got pretty rough. As it was, I'd had problems with the Sea Hawk's oars. They kept coming apart, usually at inopportune moments. It seemed like a bad idea to head out in such seas with the craft I had, so I packed up and headed north, returning to Santa Rosalia.

I planned on taking the ferry to the mainland (specifically, to the city of Guaymas) from there. The ferry was docked when I arrived. It's departure was delayed by two days due to rough seas. The ferry ride lasted about 13 hours, the first half in rough seas. The ferry was an old Norwegian vessel, originally designed for short river trips. Like many things in Mexico, it was being used for a purpose that it had not been intended for.

From the port of Guaymas I headed inland to the city of Hermosillo, then east across the state of Sonora, towards the city of Chihuahua. On my way to Chihuahua I planned on stopping for a few days in Copper Canyon, a national park. I had always thought that this part of Mexico was all desert. Guaymas and Hermosillo certainly were, but as I headed east the road gained elevation, eventually reaching the highlands of central Mexico. The desert gave way to pine forests, rivers, and waterfalls. There were patches of snow and ice on the roads. Before reaching Copper Canyon the Buffalo began overheating. I found two leaks in the cooling system. A local mechanic, who everyone referred to as "El Maestro" (the master), managed to fix the leaks using plastic cement and silicone. He charged me the equivalent of nine dollars (plus a few beers we split after he was done) and had me on my way the same day. An American mechanic would have wanted to replace the parts and would have charged me at least $100. I admired this fellow's resourcefulness. The last thing he was going to do was replace a part, which given my remote location would have taken many days to obtain. Even if the repair later fails it at least allowed me to reach a major city where parts are easier to come by.

With the leaks fixed, I continued on to Copper Canyon. The park is located in the highlands, and is actually a series of interconnected canyons, with many waterfalls, fast running rivers, and a few lakes and hot springs. It's a popular park. I hadn't seen any non-Mexicans since leaving the ferry four days earlier, but they were present in the park in spades. I explored the area on mountain bike, sometimes leaving the bike to hike through the rougher bits. Many Tarahumara indians live in the area. I often came across them and their remote habitations during my explorations. Some of them live in caves and rock overhangs that have been walled off. The Wikipedia article on the Tarahumara is pretty interesting. They are known for their ability to run extremely long distances. They practice a form of hunting which involves running after game until the animal becomes too exhausted to stay ahead of the hunter.
I would have liked to take a backpacking trip in Copper Canyon, but I wanted to be back in the US by mid February, which only allowed for a few days in the park. The canyons aren't as impressive as the Grand Canyon, but it's a pretty park nonetheless, and the Tarahumara added a unique aspect to the visit. Somehow I managed to miss seeing the 800 ft waterfall, the tallest in Mexico.

After Copper Canyon I headed for Chihuahua, a large city almost due south of El Paso, Texas. It was here that I found a statue of my namesake, apparently an Apache hero from the past who only had a first name. I also found a poster announcing a Mexican wrestling match, which is the photo at the top of this entry. I'd been looking for these throughout my stay in Mexico, hoping that I could find an event that offered an amateur night where El Magnifico could make his wrestling debut. Unfortunately the event announced in the poster had already been held. I'll have more chances when I return to Mexico in the spring. From Chihuahua it was a few hour's drive to the border crossing. I crossed the Rio Grande into Texas at Presidio, just west of Big Bend National Park, which is my next destination. I'm planning on spending a week or two in the park. I'd like to do some backpacking and might also pull out the Sea Hawk and float it down the Rio Grande.

Baja photos are here. Photos from Chihuahua and Copper Canyon are here. There's also a set of photos of vultures striking various poses here.

Hanging Out With The Boys

Well, I'm still recovering from the visitations of The Boys From Oregon. I hung out with Matt near Phoenix for a day. After that I drove to Palm Springs, California to pick up Al and Chris at the airport. We went off to Joshua Tree National Park for five days. While I was in the neighborhood I also visited Alex Nieto, an engineer who used to work for me back at HP.

I met Matt at his parent's house early on a Sunday evening. Matt was there with his wife Jasmine and their girl Avery. They were visiting Matt's parents over the holidays. Matt's sister, her husband Luis, and their boys were also there. The one night I spent there was pretty luxurious living. I floated around in a heated swimming pool, often sipping a glass of wine and consuming a variety of hour d'earves. Between stretches of catching up with Matt I played with the kids in the pool. Matt's mom and dad came by every now and then to top off our glasses and plates. Later in the evening I told stories from my trip.

The next day Matt, Luis, and I did a long day hike to the summit of Superstition Mountain. We started out in a wash, eventually heading up a canyon through a forest of Saguaro cactus. The trail was rough and steep but we eventually reached a high valley. From there we traversed, reaching a ridge. The ridge lead to a patch of rock pinnacles which marked the summit. The valley actually contained patches of ice and some standing water. Matt had hauled up a rope, so we decided to attempt one of the pinnacles. Matt lead up a short but highly exposed pinnacle. I followed in sandals while Luis took our photos. It was a sunny, bright day, apparently typical of Phoenix this time of year. All too soon we had to start down.

Throughout our hike, Matt, Luis, and I had discussed all the ways in which the various pointy plants could hurt us. I think the one we feared the most was a broad leaf yucca. These things remind me of a sea urchin, but on a larger scale. They were armed with large, blade-like leafs that came to a needle sharp point. We decided that falling on these leaves would be like falling on the end of a very sharp broadsword. It wouldn't be good. Luckily, we mostly avoided falling on the nasties. Near the end of the hike, however, Matt somehow fell on virtually flat ground, opening a massive gash on his hand in the process. Shortly after that we ran into a tarantula. We were back to the van by mid afternoon. I dropped off Matt and Luis, said goodbye to everyone, and headed for Palm Springs to pick up Chris and Al at the airport.

Things actually went very well. I picked up the boys and then headed for J-Tree. By midnight, on the first day of the new year, we had just crossed the park boundary. We found a place to park, fell asleep, woke up the next morning, then headed into the nearby town for breakfast. We had huevos rancheros cooked by a Cambodian lady and got pretty much what you would have expected. At least she also loaded us up with some New Year's Day "lucky beans." They were actually pretty good. Reminded me of tapioca. Since we'd just had our lucky beans we felt ready to try some of J-Tree's famous rock crags. Mostly we top roped on this first day. Despite not having rock climbed in quite a while, Chris pulled off some impressive moves on a higher grade route. After burning out our arms on the rock we found another campsite in the park and settled down for our second night.

Soon after parking the van the boys pulled out multiple slabs of high grade beef cuts from their luggage and proceeded to cook them. The boys thought this would be a surprise for me, but it was in fact all too predictable. Truth is, when you're with Chris and Al, eating well is an expectation. Really, its even more than an expectation. Its a state of existence. If you are ever for one moment not eating well, or don't feel like you're full, something has gone very wrong. The most likely explanation is that you are no longer with Chris and Al.

It was with this in mind that I had taken on the task of outfitting the crew for a three day, two night excursion into the desert. The only way this was going to happen was if we went "slow and fat." This means hauling lots of food and plenty of fuel. We made final preparations the morning after our steak-fest night. I took it as a positive sign when Chris suggested that there was no need for me to pack in the one liter bottle of El Tapatio hot sauce. A park ranger had really spooked the crew about water. She stated very authoritatively that there was no water on our route and that we would have to haul all of our water in. She also suggested that we do a day hike instead. We kept to our plan, but we went really heavy on the water. I think I hauled in about two gallons.

The plan called for us to hike to the top of Quail Peak, the highest point in the park. We started by hiking along a sandy plain through a forest of Joshua Trees. Chris quickly became the navigator, earning the nickname "Nav Unit." After a few miles on the plain, the Nav Unit directed us into a gradually steepening canyon. This canyon turned out to be full of water, both standing and running. It even contained ice, along with plants which are typically found in bogs. We joked that we should worry more about drowning and over-hydration than dying of thirst. Our first camp was set up in this canyon. Smoked oysters and water crackers were served as appetizers. The main course was tuna and couscous cooked in oyster sauce. The boys seemed pleased, so I called it a success. In celebration, I was christened the self propelled FMU (Food Management Unit).

After breakfast the next morning we started for the summit and reached it around noon. It was overcast but we still had a nice view of most of the park along with the surrounding peaks. We decided to further test our Nav Unit by hiking cross-country (no trail) to a mine shaft located on the map. After spending most of the day traversing we arrived at the mine. It looked pretty old, like early 1800s technology. Timbers framed the entrance. Another timber attached to an iron crank was presumably used to winch material up the shaft. This was the Lang mine, named after it's owner, Johnny Lang. After we finished inspecting the mine the Nav Unit took us down a canyon to the site of Lang's cabin. Little remained of the cabin. We camped near the site for the night. The second night's dinner was rotini and salmon garnished with fresh mozzarella cheese. I added tobasco sauce to give it a little kick. Another good meal, if I do say so myself.

The next day we woke up and continued hiking cross country, arriving back at the van in the morning. After resting a bit we attacked the rock crag next to the parking lot. Chris and I got a lot of good trad leading in. Chris again flaunted his climbing skills by making a 5.10 route look like something he could have lead. Having wasted ourselves climbing again, we headed into town for dinner. After another great meal we found a patch of desert at the outskirts of town where we spent the night. We were glad we had finished our wilderness trek earlier that day. A storm with strong winds and rain moved in that night.

On our final morning together we had another fine breakfast and then researched Johnny Lang. Turns out he was something of a troublemaker. I found a good story on him at this site. Amongst other things, Lang skimmed from his mining partners and made a habit out of killing and eating other people's animals. He also opened the first saloon in the nearby town of 29 Palms. We decided to hike in to another mine in which he had been a partner. This was the Lost Horse Mine. The weather was still nasty at the time but it was an easy hike. No doubt, the Lost Horse Mine was a bigger operation than the Lang Mine. It had machinery and a well developed water delivery system. It was during Lang's tenure as the night shift supervisor at this mine that he skimmed away some of the gold amalgam. Years later, Lang was found dead near this mine. His grave site was nearby. He'd left a note at his cabin which stated that he'd "Gone for grub." He must have been hungry as he had earlier eaten his burros. The coroner declared that he'd died of natural causes. He was in his seventies. Rumors are his fortune still lies buried out in the desert somewhere.

A couple of hours after our last hike I dropped off Chris and Al at the airport. On the way to the airport the boys christened the van the "Water Buffalo." This was in honor of Lao Tzu, an ancient Chinese philosopher and founder of Taoism. He was last seen a few thousand years ago, heading west into Tibet on top of a water buffalo. Hence the name.

Anyhow, the Water Buffalo had been acting up lately, as water buffalos often do. For a while it looked like it wasn't going to leave the airport passenger drop-off area. I decided to head to San Diego to find a good mechanic to look at it. It was the same intermittent cutting out problem it's always had, but the problem had occurred much more often during and after the J-Tree visit. I was hopeful that it could be remedied for good. As I neared San Diego I started wishing that I had the number for a tow truck. The problem got worse, to the point where it was continuously cutting out. I was doing 25 MPH on the shoulder of a twelve lane freeway at night in the middle of a rain storm, with the Buffalo backfiring regularly. It was sick for sure. I turned the hazard lights on and hoped no one would rear end me. I constantly worked the clutch and gas, coaxing the Buffalo to keep moving. I kept whispering to it: "Just a little bit further." I coasted into the shop's parking lot (the engine had died) on a Sunday night.

While I was in the neighborhood I visited with Alex. He'd just returned from his honeymoon. The married life and the new job both seem to be treating him well. We made plans to get together for a climbing trip once I've returned to Oregon.

Right now I'm waiting for the Buffalo to come up in the repair queue. Meanwhile I've been exploring San Diego by foot and tram. This morning I got a citation from the local transit police. I had purchased a two trip ticket, but it turns out its only valid on the day of purchase (which was the day before). As he was writing up the citation the officer asked me what my address was. I told him I'm living in a van. I read the citation after he handed it to me and noticed that under the address section it said "transient."

It was good to see the boys from Oregon. I enjoyed meeting Matt's parents and thank them for their hospitality. The desert trek with Chris and Al was memorable. The most interesting aspect for me was seeing Chris and Al come to the realization that the desert isn't as inhospitable a place as it's generally made out to be. I think Matt has realized this as well. It was a realization I had experienced myself only a few months ago when I first ventured into the desert. For sure, you want to keep your guard up, but all of those trips into the northwest's mountains still count for a lot. The desert has its own brand of beauty to offer and I think we all saw that as well. I really enjoyed the trad climbing too. One of my goals for my year off was to become a better trad climber. The time at J-Tree went a long way towards increasing my confidence leading on trad. Hopefully I'll be able to meet up with the boys again some time before my trip ends.

As soon as the Buffalo's been cured of it's ills and I've stocked up on some supplies I'll be crossing into Mexico. The ice climbing trip to Colorado with Tim is off, but we may still get together in the spring. As a result, I'm unconstrained until mid March. By then I'll need to be back at my sister's place in Texas to help with the bakery start-up. I plan on heading down the Baja peninsula, eventually taking a ferry across the Sea of Cortez to the Mexican mainland. After that I'll likely head east across northwestern Mexico, eventually crossing back in New Mexico or western Texas. I don't know how good my internet and cell phone access will be while I'm south of the border, so folks may not hear much from me over the next couple of months. I'll pass on a more detailed itinerary to Ann as it's developed and as communication opportunities arise. I'm looking forward to spending some time on a beach somewhere. I know I will also enjoy my time with the Mexicans.

Hope everyone had a good new year. I sure did.

Phoenix photos are here and J-Tree photos are here.