What You Bring Back From a Roadtrip

Canadian Rockies reflected in Moraine Lake near Lake Louise, Alberta. 

A road trip is a collection of images, impressions, and maybe, changes in perspectives.  In retrospect, we don’t know whether the travel changed us permanently, or just temporarily. Certainly, on the road, on the trail, in the camp, in the forests, on the mountain summits, and at the foot of glaciers we were seeing, doing and feeling things differently.

We began with a simple and general plan devoid of the details of where and how long we would go. We were guided mostly by the desire to be open to the open road.  It worked for us.  It is difficult not to become a “travel evangelist”- to want to convince others that maybe this too may be “just what you need”.  At the very least one thing is certain.  We have a huge country out there that you can and should explore.  You are bound to discover something, either about it, about yourself, or both.

Here are some of the snippets of images selected from the thousands of miles we traveled.

Heading north on Hwy 89 in southwest Utah.

The windshield of the vehicle frames a road undulating over hills and valleys, growing smaller as it merged and disappeared at the horizon.  The open country and the big skies of the west can make you feel small and exposed.

Saskatchewan Glacier on the Parker Ridge Trail in Jasper National Park, Alberta.

Another view on the same trail.

The most incredible and unbelievable panorama I have ever seen has made me gasp.  Two minutes later I round another trail switchback and see a vista more breathtaking than the last.

Highline Trail parallels the Going-to-the-Sun Road in Glacier National Park, Montana.

On the Highline Trail.

The narrow trail hundreds of feet above that tiny highway is both frightening and exhilarating.  My legs are shaking and my head is light, and all I can say is a feeble “wow”.

Columbia Icefield on the Wilcox Pass Trail in Jasper National Park, Alberta.

Columbia Icefield, Alberta Canada.

I have passed this glacier going the other direction, but now from this direction, I am seeing it for the first time.  

A bear along the road to Bowman Lake in Glacier National Park, Montana.

A cow moose and her twin babies in the Golden Gate Canyon State Park, Colorado campground.

I glimpsed something moving beside the road.  What is it this time - a bear, a doe and her fawn, an elk, or a cow moose and her twin babies looking back at me?  I consider, “Will I take a photo or I will I just watch?”

Chipmunk making a dash for home in Sequoia National Park.

I am entertained by a worried chipmunk scurrying around the periphery of the campsite. Finally, it made a bold dash for the hole, his home, next to the fire ring at my feet. This must be rush hour. 

Looking north along the Oregon Dunes National Recreational Area near Coos Bay, Oregon.

The Pacific Ocean viewed from windy dunes along the Oregon Coast marks the western edge of our travel that began in North Carolina at the Atlantic Ocean.  We have crossed the entire continent.

The sun pushing away the clouds along Bow Lake in Jasper National Park, Alberta.

Vistas of mountains shrouded by wispy clouds give way to mountains cheered by acres of sunshine.

 

Finding solitude in our campground along Caples Lake, California.  This was one of our favorite campgrounds.

We found uncommon solitude among granite boulders and scraggly junipers in the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range.  The original plan to camp among the crowd at Lake Tahoe fortunately did not work out.

Road Trip, Not Boat Trip

The open road beckoned us. (Desert along the California/Arizona border).

We are on the road – not the water.  We and Layla were ready, really ready to head south.  Packed and prepared as we were, the persistent and contrary south and southwest winds continued to discourage our plans.  It was obvious that unless we wanted to slog through uncomfortable seas, primarily motoring, this was not the time to go.  Hurricane season, July and August intense heat, contrary winds and seas, and the beckoning of cool mountain breezes persuaded us to abandon the plans for heading south on Layla this summer.

Layla was ready to go- all dressed up and nowhere to go. We decided “not now”.

The decision set in motion many tasks including off-loading perishables and valuable/vulnerable stuff from Layla, and moving Layla back to the boat yard and once again, putting her “on the hard” (boat speak for putting a boat on stands out of the water).  After all of the efforts to get Layla and us ready to go south over these many months, we had to undo some of it.

Coincident with the decision not to go south on Layla by water was the decision to go north and west by land.  Last year we took a road trip in the old Ranger pickup to the Canadian Maritime Provinces to escape the doldrums of July and August.  Inspired by that trip, we are now traveling across the US and part of Canada, in a leisurely circle to visit state, provincial, and national parks, monuments, memorials, mountains, prairies, deserts and seashores, as well as friends and family along the way. 

Sunset from our camp above Caples Lake near Carson Pass, California.

Campfires are our primary evening entertainment.

What is our plan?  We want to keep the travel simple with an open itinerary.  We are guided by the desire to spend nights in the open, with mornings awoken by the chatter of the local critters.  We envision days filled with journeys to a canyon, or river, or stream, or glacier, or mountain, or one of the many wonders of the land.  If we can get there via a small country road, the travel is even better.  We hope to be surprised every day.

This adventure demanded something more substantial than the Mini.

The Tacoma pickup is well-suited for the extended road trip.

Within about a week after we had Layla safely secured back on land, we had traded in the Mini Cooper and bought a Toyota Tacoma pickup.  It was apparent that neither the old Ranger pickup or the Mini were up to the task of this planned trip, which would easily total thousands of miles based almost entirely on tent camping.  The Tacoma seemed worthy of the plan.  We packed again, this time for land travel with gas stove, tent, sleeping bags, and lots of camping gear.

We also jumped into the 21^st century to upgrade our phone and phone carrier to keep us better connected on the road.  We now are able to text, and now see the wisdom behind this means of communication.  We apologize to all of you for taking so long to embrace this technology!

Our route to date, highlighted in red, roams across the states and into Canada. 

We have been on the road since July 13^th and have logged over 9,000 miles on meandering travel across 15 states and two Canadian provinces.  We are now in Tucson, Arizona for family visits and re-provisioning.

We sought glaciers, cool mountain air, breathtaking vistas and winding roads and found them here along the Icefield Parkway, Alberta, Canada.

One of the many charming critters, a chipmunk, we met along the route.

Icefield Parkway, Alberta, Canada

We have some time and good internet now and expect to make a number of retrospective blog postings to re-cap some of our adventures.  While by some comparisons, this road trip may not be considered an epic journey, it has been one filled with stunning landscapes, amusing and fascinating wildlife, interesting people, blue highways, lessons on “roughing it”, and the remarkable wisdom behind the efforts to preserve the beauty and the wonder of the natural world in the national/provincial parks.  

Oh, and one more thing- we are not done yet!   

The Next Phase

A message sent from Bud’s sister.

OK.  We get it.  We have been here on land a long time.  Some of you think it has been too long.  We get that.  We have lots of reasons for being marooned here in North Carolina.  The cold weather played a primary role.  And since we had some choice in the matter, we chose to stay until the weather turned.  We simply did not want to head South, despite the promise of warmer weather…….eventually.  We knew from our previous trip to Florida and the Keys, we would have to endure a very cold cockpit without an enclosure.  We went month to month on the slip on the waterfront in Beaufort, always having the option to leave if we saw a good weather window.  We didn’t.

Looking out of our back door in the middle of February, the thought of heading out with Layla in an exposed, open cockpit was not inviting.

Our second major reason was that we wanted to get our old house in shape as we wanted to have an option that once we headed out, it would in good repair for a house sitter or renter.  Just as projects on the boat were never as they first appear, our historic house (the Sarah Fisher Holland Dennis house ca. 1859) was the same.  

Owning a historic house comes with its pluses (great character) and minuses (maintenance - ie. work, work, work).

The simple replacement of a piece of deteriorated siding became the replacement of 400 linear feet of siding, and then priming and painting. On the positive side, we marveled that outside painting is far easier than inside – even when part of the painting had to be done from 25 feet up on a ladder.  

Replacing one rotten board expanded to replacing nearly one quarter of the siding on the north east side of the house.

Repairing the siding gave us an ‘opportunity’ to paint the south and east side of the house as well.  Don’t you love how these projects grow?

Then there was the repair of the 23 year old wash machine and installing duct work under the house for a dryer vent.  The old dryer vent through the roof had been eliminated with the new roof.  Oh yeah, we put on a new roof too.

The repair of the washer and dryer produced more chaos. 

With the washer and dryer out of the closet, we had an ‘opportunity’ to paint.

We won’t bore you with all the other tasks, but believe us, we tackled some daunting tasks.  And we have been busy.

So where are we now?  The house is in good shape, the wash machine still likes to dance to the Beach Boys “Good Vibrations”, but we can live with that.  And Layla, she looks pretty good. The new canvas additions Tracy sewed during those dark cold winter days have transformed Layla.  Engine oil is changed, fuel tanks have been cleaned, and new fuel filters are installed.  The water maker has a new membrane and pumps out good fresh water made from salt water –almost  magic.

We are now repacking Layla with a selection of all the things we removed and put in piles throughout the house over the past months.

Some of the organized chaos we are sorting to pack Layla’s ‘stuff’.

It felt so good to finally bring aboard Layla’s stuff to make her a home again.  Here Bud is passing me the cushions for the salon. 

We expect to take Layla out on a check-out of the autopilot, the new wind instrument, and other upgrades within the next few days.  We may go to Cape Lookout to anchor as well.

Our plans?  We expect to join our Australian friends to head South in the next couple weeks to the Bahamas.  Stay tuned for the update. 

Splash -- Layla's in the Water!

After 1 1/2 years in the boatyard, Layla takes the plunge.

The ‘to do’ list has finally dwindled to those tasks that will be addressed with Layla in the water.  Layla was ready to go into the water.

We scheduled the boat lift for 9:00 am.  Before the lift arrived, folks from Beaufort Marine and our new friends from the boatyard, Mark and Kate, surprised us with a breakfast and gifts as we stood next to Adam’s Creek - the waterway we would soon travel to a slip we rented on Taylor’s Creek in Beaufort.  Although this was only a short trip from the boatyard to the slip, everyone there knew this was nonetheless a big deal.  After a year and a half “on the hard”, Layla was going in the water.

Our friend Kate (left) and others from Beaufort Marine Center celebrate our departure with homemade strata, donuts, bagels, and tea.

In the water, Layla’s engine started after the first crank.  Layla purred.  But, as Layla has always been a bit of a drama queen, within ten minutes, she protested with white smoke and then the engine died.  We had a problem.

Since we had asked our great cruising friend, Fred, to join us, we had added confidence that we could troubleshoot.  The most likely culprit was contaminated the diesel fuel. We changed three fuel filters, and then re-learned how to “bleed” the lines.  We had discussed cleaning the fuel and the tanks with various people before putting Layla in the water.  Considering the cost and effort which would still demand that we would likely have to change filters and bleed the fuel lines anyway, we were talked out of the fuel cleaning.

We started the engine once again and looked forward to about an hour and a half of motoring to the Beaufort waterfront.  After about a mile and a half we checked our fuel consumption of the two fuel tanks and decided to switch to the starboard tank - Bad idea. Within two minutes the engine died.  We dropped the anchor, and then removed the filters once again.  After switching back to the port tank and the second filter, and bleeding the system, the motor started.

We reasoned that we should simply turn around and get new fuel in the port tank rather than risking the chance of clogged filters/fuel lines again.  About an hour later, we had filled the port tank and we were back on our way to putting Layla in her new slip.

We expected an hour and a half cruise down the Intracoastal Waterway to Beaufort.  It was a gorgeous day, even with  the trip taking six hours.

Fred and Bud enjoy the ride to Beaufort.  All's well that ends well.

 

 

The trip that should have been only about an hour and a half ended up being about six hours.  Layla is a big girl with a wide beam and the slip was a tight fit.  But it was quite a relief after a stressful day on the water.  Layla was back in her element, and we were excited to see her there.

Layla looks more at home here than in the boatyard.

It didn’t take more than 24 hours for the weather to change, with a low pressure from the southwest bringing gusts up to 40 knots.  After checking on her at 2 am and a fitful sleep, we knew we needed to find a better slip.  Fortunately, the slip adjacent to us was available and about two feet wider.  Within five minutes of maneuvering and line changes, Layla was snuggled in her new home.  This was the slip for her.

Now the new phase has begun.  We are excited about what is next.  Now when we see Layla on the water and in her slip, we can really see this is going to happen.         

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

Layla gets all of the presents. Her wheel and companion way doors are varnished and the prop has been cleaned.  She got a lot more stuff this year.

We need to catch up with all of you.  To answer the recurring questions, “Where are you?” and “What are you doing?”  We are still here in North Carolina.  Boat projects and house projects have filled our days.  We don’t have time for a real job.  There is so much to do.  Some days a “real” job might be easier.  At least it would pay better, and maybe offer better working conditions. 

From putting on a new roof, repairing drywall and ceiling leaks from the old roof, replacing a broken window, jacking up and repairing the front porch posts and flooring, replacing siding, painting porches, to various other projects, we have worked hard to get this 156 year old house in shape before our departure.  Have we told we have the oldest house in town (still standing)?

Corky and his crew unload our new roof.

Removal of rotten porch floor boards and posts to be repaired.

We updated Layla’s maintenance and repair log to review our work since she became ours.  The list is over seven typed pages with over 200 items either replaced with new, or repaired, painted, and cleaned (sometimes multiple times).  The common lament among boat people is that fixing stuff is not so bad.  It is the fixing of things two or more times that is infuriating.

    

We know the truism that there is always something else to fix.  You are never done.  Believe me we understand that.  Far too often we will tackle a simple task and have it explode into five or six more.  There are far too few simple tasks.  We have found this endeavor can be more of a marathon than a sprint and, despite our best efforts, waiting on parts, ordering wrong parts, sending things back, rainy days, and cold days all conspire to thwart schedules and plans.  We reluctantly learned the need for patience and have accepted that all things related to a boat have their own schedule beyond our control.  Control is elusive.  

One example of the tests to our patience, on a quick check on the top of the mast last week we saw part of our navigation light had ripped off, apparently during the hurricane last summer or another storm since we have been back.  We ordered and received a replacement part and hiked back up the mast to find that the part didn’t fit because we have a different brand.  There is no replacement part for our brand of light. We would have to order a new navigation light, which was in limited supply, would take 3 weeks for delivery, and was the most expensive of all brands.  We decided to order a different navigation light which should arrive Christmas eve.  Then we have our least favorite job, hanging 60 feet off the ground juggling tools, nuts and bolts, and making electrical connections to install it.  We have replaced this navigation light once before.  We let it go and stress is reduced – we have at least that control.  At the end of the day, we tally the achievements, the tasks completed, and those that are getting close to being done.  We celebrate all of our accomplishments.

Even the tools to fix things need fixing. Here we modified the sewing machine after it broke going through several layers of canvas.  Canvas is one of our success stories.  We made canvas covers for the propane chest, the line chests, the butterfly hatch, the helm seat, the cockpit table, the wheel, the autopilot control unit, and the grill.  

We are close to the “splash” – putting Layla in the water.  The boat yard can schedule Layla after the holidays.  One of the last tasks to be completed before going back in the water is done.  Her bottom has been sanded, primed, and painted with three coats of antifouling paint.  

Bud sanded Layla’s bottom after patching some blisters on the hull.

Layla in her ‘silver slippers’ with her brand new coat of primer.  The folks in the yard loved her look.  No one wanted to see her painted over with black bottom paint. 

Bottom paint demands a lot of stirring if it has sat around for a while.

This last coat of bottom paint around the prop area means we are ready to go.

We have removed a lot of stuff from the boat as we needed space for working on projects.  Most of the stuff is in the “staging area” (the second bedroom in the house), but spills into nearly every room of the house and the outside shed.  All of this is sorted (mostly), cleaned, and ready to be placed back on Layla.  We have arranged a temporary slip on the Beaufort waterfront.  We will check out the new autopilot, the water generator, engine, and refrigerator/freezer in the water.  The slip at the dock will give us a convenient means to reload and provision the boat.

There you have it.  We know many of you are as eager as we are to see us on the water and heading south.  We understand the adage that sailing/voyaging can be more about intentions than schedules.  We intend to be in the water within the next couple of weeks.  And after a shake-down for testing all the new equipment, we intend to combine passages both offshore and the Intracoastal Waterway for points south.  Depending upon the weather, we intend to jump off from Florida to the Bahamas.  We will keep you posted.

May you all have a wonderful Christmas and bright New Year!  Don’t forget to get those passports if you want to visit!

Atlantic Time

Our first sign that we were in a foreign country......

After settling in for the evening at a campsite we would attempt to review the day and take notes to aid in maintaining a journal of the travel. We would often use a digital recorder to assist in this task. On this day, we captured one of our intellectual conversations about the challenges of travel - entering a new time zone, the Atlantic Time Zone, which includes the Maritime Provinces. Here, early on our travel into New Brunswick, Tracy is trying to reconcile the time on her Casio watch with the local time. As recovering academics, we often had such conversations as we tried to explain the various natural and unnatural phenomena we observed, such as the surprises of the diverse geology, or the mystery of poutine as a popular menu item. We had a lot of fun solving the riddles of the universe.  There should be a slide show video with audio below.  We hope it works for all of you.  If not, please send us an email or comment.

If you don't see a video above, try accessing the video through the following link:

Video Link

To clarify the confusion on time zones, Atlantic Time, which includes New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia, are 1 hour ahead of Eastern Daylight time (New York time). However, if you are in Labrador or Newfoundland (the other Maritime Provinces we did not visit), you are in Newfoundland Daylight time, which is, oddly enough, 1 ½ hours ahead of Eastern Daylight time, or ½ hour ahead of Atlantic Daylight time. But there appear to be some exceptions to this depending upon where you are in Labrador, in which case you may be back on Atlantic Daylight time. We hope that ends the confusion.