Stateside Again!

And We're Back!

Long time no talk, my apologizes for the lack of communication during the last leg of my Southeast Asia trip.  Things got a little hectic towards the end, but everything smoothed out and I am happy to report my return to the grand old U S of A.

More reflections to come in the next few days, first I need some R&R to reset the internal clock after.  

Cheers!

Northern Laos

The sun is shining and my toes are cold up here in Lam Nha Tah, Laos.  Gordy and I got here yesterday after an interesting 9 hour bus from Luang Prubang- the mini Europe of Laos.  Imagine downtown hip-strip cafes and cute t-shirt vendors everywhere.  The up side of that tourist trap town is the 10,000 kip street sandwiches, especially made by the fat Lao woman that laughed at Gordy every time he wandered back to her stall for another treat.  I think she was amazed at his eating skills- or she might have just thought his crazy ginger 'fro was hilarious to look at.  Which it is...

Seriously though, L.P. had a great national museum and an interesting night market (interesting for the first 20 min.) but other than that it could have been any downtown streets in the US with Lao signs.   It was crawling with tourists- clean, on holiday tourists- not many dirt-bag back packers like us.

Which brought us north, thank god, and we are back in the middle of no where.  Funny, how I love being nowhere so much more than a certain place.  Tomorrow we leave on a 3day/2 night trek through the LamNamta National forest for a night in a Hmong village and remote camp.  Should be nice given it's only us and two guys we met on the bus.  

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, I hope that you all enjoy stuffing your face for me.  I will be eating rice soup for the next few nights, so remember some extra cranberry sauce for me. 

cheers!

LAOS!!

This place is beautiful, but expensive- thus minimal posting during my time here.

We are heading up to Lam Na Tha, Loas for a few days.  Hopefully stumble upon some nice treks and non-touristy areas. 

love to all!

ciao.

HA NOI?

Greetings All!

Northern Vietnam is just as full of people trying to sell shit and car exhuast as the Southern half, but at least here the heat isn't attempting to kill us. 

Gordy and I made it to the capitol city on Tuesday morning after the sleeper bus ride from hell- for those over five feet tall and who enjoy not slamming their heads against metal bars to sleep that is.  The city was full of guesthouses, and those guesthouses were already filled with travelers at 8 a.m. from the previous day.  We had the lovely pleasure of lugging our packs around for two and a half hours trying to find a decent room for under $8 but finally we just said "f-it" and took a crappy little place for 9 bucks a night.  It made sense because we splurged on our Ha Long Bay tour trip (going for the priceier 2days/1night to sleep on an all inclusive traditional junk boat), that left on Thursday.

Ha Long Bay was incredible, and we spared no expense without guilt and called it our Christmas Present to each other.  Totally worth every penny, being able to Kayak and climb in such a gorgeous place.  Unfortunatly though, that's what most people say and we saw at least 25 other big boats around us for most of the trip. Oh well, I got to see stars on the South China sea and jump off a junk boat into Ha Long Bay.  Who cares if Japanese tourists took picutres of me while kayaking?  I always wanted to be in a random family album...

We are getting the heck out of Vietnam this weekend if all goes planned, and into Laos via the Tra Trang/ Xoi Hang border crossing.  Tomorrow holds the lovely gift of a 16 hour local bus ride to Dien Bien Phu.  I just pray that this one might not include me sitting with chickens under my seat, although it was a great comic relief after the first few hours from Rach Gia.

Night!

PS i know it's a short post, but gordy and i are both are feeling a bit crappy after the amount of free food we ate the last few days on our boat trip.  i never knew it was possible to feel ones stomach actually stretch with real food after eating noodle soup for a month, but by god it is.  And is it painful. I think gordy might be going into some ridiculous kind of food shock, but then again he did eat an entire plate of french fries and three Choco-Pies within five minutes.  oh well, good-night.

Hue, Vietnam

Blue skies and smiling faces- that is all I have found so far in Northern Vietnam.

Gordy and I left Nha Trang- finally- after two days of being holed up in the room.  The roads were still flooded, but somehow our over-night 12 hour bus ride arrived in Hoi An the morning of the fifth only four hours later then expected. 

Hoi An is really a jewel of a city.  The town itself was made into a World Heritage Site due to its French colonial and Japanese architechture.  So, not only are moto-bikes and cars not allowed in majority of the city center (YES!!), it has retained many of its original foot bridges for over 500 years.  The traditional Hoi An color of bright yellow is painted on majority of the buildings, and gives the entier place a cheery atmosphere.  Which is very nice, given that most the the tourists coming to Hoi An end up haggaling in the other half of what makes Hoi An such a famous city- the tailor shops.  \

We arrived at around 9 am, and wasted no time heading into the city to find a decent tailor.  I had one goal- a green wool winter coat.  It  wasn't easy to find, but after a few shops I found a young girl who not only had the color I wanted but also spoke great english.  After almost an hour of comparing fabrics, styles, and just talking in general we figured out exactly what I wanted- and its beautiful!  That first day I was measured, and Gordy debated about getting a jacket for a while.  He choose to sleep on the idea, because our packs are full to begin with and carrying around a heavy winter jacket in Southeast asia for another month really isn't a wonderful sounding idea. 

The two of us ate at a great place near our hotel called the Laugh Cafe.  We stumbled upon it by chance, and I am so glad we did because it turned out to be a place that not only served great food, but also is helping out the local community in a big way.  Laugh Cafe is a vocational training resturant that trains youth from the country side in hospitality services and english, so that they can then move into cities and earn decent wages for thier families.  When we walked up to check out the menu, a smiling older australian gentlemen gestured to a menu and had us sit down.  Turns out, this man who then served us and chatted us up about local areas of interest was Dr. Peter Braun, who founed Make A Difference Indochina Inc. about five years ago.  After a few beers, we learned that between working at the childrens hospital in Siem Reap, Cambodia and the Laugh Cafe in Hoi An, Peter flys around raising money for the foundation and working with other non-profit orginizations.  The Laugh Cafe was a place that Gordy and I spent multiple meals at, and the beer is definalty the coldest in Hoi An we found.  I highly reccomend that anyone traveling in Vietnam check out this great spot, and also checkout the website at http://www.umad.org/

The next day, we rented bicycles and rode out to the beach before our final fittings at the tailors.  The ride was beautiful, and it felt nice to get some real exersice for a bit.  It's amazing how nice it is to move around the city on anything other then two feet after a month of walking around cities carrying packs.  We swam and hung out, then were drenched when an afternoon storm came in.  After it passed we rode back, got our tailor made winter coats and my lovely little blue dress, ate a traditional Hoi An dinner and went to the hotel.  Unfortuantly, we discovered at 10pm that Gordy's coat has an unfinished seam in the back (aka a frigging hole in the coat that wasn't sewn in the first place!).   While I tried my darndest, there was no way to get a hold of the shop before we left at 8 am the next morning.  Arggg. 

Getting into Hue was a great bus ride- it was our first time in the Vietnam highlands and the misty mountains really are breath taking.   We found a hotel, walked around and down to the river, and just relaxed for the evening.  Today we took a motorbike out of town to the Minh Mang and Khai Dinh tombs, down river from town around 12 kilometers.  On our way out of town a small Vietnamese woman rode up along side up and started chatting- while navigating Vietnamese traffic around 30 km an hour.  She showed us a few shortcuts to the temples, and after we were done invited us to her home for tea!  It was incredible, talking to a native and haveing her show us photos of her home before the river flooded years ago, her wedding day pictures, and alot of snapshots from when her kids were growing up.  It doesn't matter what culture or country you're in, mothers still think thier kids are the greatest. : )

We leave tomorrow night for Hanoi, and are probably going to spend the day in the walled city across the river.  Gordy and I had a little spill on the motorbike on our way to the tombs, so we both are looking forward to sleeping in.   Nothing serious, but enough for us to justify being lazy for a day.

Cheers!

NhaTrang, Vietnam

And then there was rain!

Typhoon Miriane hit central Vietnam Monday night. Gordy and I left Saigon on sunday for the beach hot-spot of Nha Trang- known for cheap drinks and great snorkeling. We arrived after 10 hours on a sleeper bus- which is completely worth the extra $2- to find that the storm had reached category 1 and would drop rainfall in the area for a solid week. Huzzah for that horridly pink bikini I bought in Saigon; it definatly got wet but not from the ocean.

We've been holed up in two different spots in Nha Trang: our cheap room that magically has the discovery channel and a local bar called Cheers! that has two Saigon beers for 20,000 Dong. It really is the bar where everyone knows your name-especially after two days of sittig at the same table. I taught Gordy to play Cribbage on the eve of the storm,and we have spent countless hours waiting for the rain to clear playing.

Before the storm hit,after stocking up on cheap bread and cookies, we went down to the water to watch the swells. The sheer power of the coming storm was incredible,and I watched a huge tanker in the bay slowly fight it's way across the water.

The rain has cleared for now,and we are taking a bus up to Hoi An tonight at 6. It arrives tweleve hours later, so maybe we could see some nice weather farther north on the coast. Gordy says its wishful thinking, but I still have hopes for my tacky-ass Bikini.

GOOD MORNING VIETNAM!!!

Good evening, to be exact. Sorry about the lapse in posting, Southern Vietnam really doesn't cater to the needs of traveling Americans- exactly the reason I liked it so much. Gordy and I left Cambodia and entered the Socialist Republic of Vietnam on the 22nd. We left around 8:30 a.m, and two vans, one bus, two boats, one bicycle, two Motos and a Tuk-Tuk ride later we found ourselves in Rach Gia, Vietnam at 9 p.m. Our goal was to reach Phu Quoc Island the next day, which we did, for some ocean swimming and beach time. Again, an epic traveling saga occured, including a taxi for 300,000 Dong through dirt roads and me almost getting into a fight with a scam artist over 10,000 Dong. (FYI- the current exchange rate is $1 USD/ 18,000 Dong) Needless to say, when we finally found the Moon Resort with a private beach and bungalow-esque areas for $15 USD a night we were thrilled. Sharing in our adventure from Phnom Phen to Phu Quoc Island was a wonderful French couple, who split costs with us the whole way. The 24th was a day of pure bliss. The four of us rented motorbikes for the day, but one of the bikes didn't have a working brake so the group split up and Gordy and I headed south. We found a great strech of a not so trash filled beach, jumped in, and spent the day putt-puttering around the island at our lesiure. That night we found a tiny resurant on a deserted strip of coast that had chairs set up right above the beach, drank a beer and watched the sun set over the pacific as if we were the only two people on the island. We headed north to Can Tho the next day, and got in pretty late. Not surprisingly though, the guest-house we stayed at had a tour guide at the desk and we were able to set up a private boat to tour the floating markets at sunrise the next day. Our guide, Hung, was a great guy who spoke little english, but he was wonderful at getting us into the thick of the Market. Imagine the Mississippi, with a hundred round-hulled house boats accented with sky blue paint tied together or motoring around the edge of an almost mile long line. We got there earlier then most, because the guide wanted to get up to the local market before the sun got to hot, which allowed for us to really take our time. Think of a boat with pineapples literally bursting from the seams- then add a chicken on top for good measure and the roar of a hundred motors to the scene- and you have a slight idea of what the beautiful chaos of the floating market is. Gordy and I are now in Saigon, known everywhere else as Ho Chi Min city. No one in Vietnam except offials refer to Saigon as HCMC. Even though Can Tho is only 170km from Saigon, we were in a bus for 6 hours. That is less then 90 miles in over SIX HOURS! With Vietnamese comdey sketches blaring from the sound system- and a never ending alarm clock beeping noise that was supposed to "warn the driver of traffic." Needless to say, I have never been more pleased to walk off of a bus in my life. Southeast Asia has plenty of bus companies and transportation options, but be prepared to go slightly mad from the constant start/stop driving and never ending barrage of horns. Our plan is to explore this city for a few days, then head North to Dalat. We found a great little guest-house off the beaten track for a mere $8 USD a night with all the amenities, and are looking forward to rechargeing our "westernized batteries" for a while. Southern Vietnam was beautiful, but its been almost two weeks since we left Bangkok, and it is a bit of a relief not to be stared at by the locals. Small children especially in Southern Vietnam would be amazed when Gordy would stand up or take his hat off- 6'3 men with crazy curly blonde hair are not a common sight in that area yet. cheers!

Phnom Phen, Cambodia

Hello all,

This post is not for Grace to read.

I am sitting in the muggy capitol of Cambodia after a long day of educational emotional havoc.  Today Gordy and I visited the Killing Fields of Choeung Ek and the Tuol Sleng Museum- also known at S-21.  There truely are not words to describe witnessing places where such inhumane and violent acts took place in such recent history.  Tuol Sleng espcially was brutal, due to it's unassuming outward appearance.  S-21, before the Khmer Rouge take over in 1975, was a local high school.  It's courtyard and outer walls only hint at the horrors within- and only a second glance shows the thickness of the razor wire tangled above the concrete.  Inside though, the rooms have retained the wire beds and shackles used to torture and interigate over 20,000 people that were housed there between 1975 and 1979.   This is not a visit for the faint of heart, nor is it to be seen in the middle of other more palatable tourist attractions.  The photographs set up in memorial of those lost are almost as difficult to look at as the rooms, which you are free to walk in, touch, lay down etc.  Watching other visitors faces, it was apparent that very few people expected the emotional impact that this place was having on them personally.  I had to take a moment outside more then once, and even then it was hard to look at the former playground- which had been used to hang citizens to conserve bullets. 

While I type this, it is hard for me not to be overwhelmed with the tragic story that played out here.  I suddenly understand why I've felt so oddly about the people here, because thier manerisms have a current of (I don't know how to say it pleasantly) fuck-off attitude.  It makes sense though, when tourists now come here for vactation, spending money and being completely unable to relate to the people who survived this genocide.  Yet, tourism is what is funding the rebuilding of Cambodia at this stage- everything is in US currency, from rooms at the guest house to coffee on the street.  And the Cambodian people are welcoming to those from outside their borders, but that welcome also comes with a hint of desperation.  So far, in other places the drivers and tour guides have heckled you about rides and prices, but in Cambodia there is a sense of urgency to thier argument.  Haggleing isn't about trying to see how much they can get from us for fun- it feels like they really need the money.  Gordy and I have talked about this tragic under-current we've both been feeling since comeing into Cambodia.  It's in the guestures and pleading adult eyes, and yet there is joy unbound in the younger generation here.  It is such a paradox, seeing so many school children laughing and playing soccer in the dirt next to places where people are still trying to literally rebuild the homes they were forced from less then 30 years ago. 

I felt guilty walking these places, like I was at the funeral of someone I only knew vauegly while the family mourned aloud.  Still, both places stated in different areas the importance of forgien visitors to the sites to educate the world about the events there. It was incredible the amount of information and depth that is found at Choeung Ek and S-21- a tribute to those who are still working to preserve the memory of this violent chapter of Cambodian history. 

I hate to end this post without a happy ending, some small humorous moment to lighten the mood, but that is not what days like today are for, and I encourage everyone to spend a few minutes looking up "Khmer Rouge'" and "Choeung Ek" online to better understand.

goodnight. 

Siem Reap, Cambodia

Where do I begin?  The Cambodian Consulate Visa Scam?  Government officals taking down our nationalites when we haggeled for a taxi?  Angkor Wat?  European guest houses?  Australians! Mr. Vina the Tuk-Tuk driver? Walking across the border and into another world?!

Ladies and Gentlemen: we have arrive in Cambodia, the worlds newest Enigma.

Gordy and I came into Cambodia on the 16th, after a long day of traveling, scams, total anhiliation of my understanding of poverty, and a dinner of ramen noodles.  More on that story later.

We spent the 17th in the temple complexes of Angkor, a must on our list for the trip.  Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom, and Ta Prohm took us the entier day.  Tomorrow we are going to do a sunrise walk at some other temples, and hopefully our faithful Tuk-Tuk driver Mr. Vina will be able to wake up early enough.

The guesthouse we are staying at is wonderful enough to offer free internet services, but with only one computer and over 50 rooms the line gets rather long- and I am currently being stared down by a rather large Swedish woman in hiking boots.

ciao.

And We're Off!

I have a ticket leaving Bangkok at 8:30 a.m. tomorrow morning and still need to re-pack my bag, so this post will be brief.  Gordy and I are going to cross the border into Cambodia tomorrow via the crossing point at Aranya Prathet/Poipet on our way to Angkor Wat.  We plan on staying in Siem Reap for the next week or so, hopefully renting bicycles to better enjoy the massive temple complex.

Bangkok has been a great jumping off point for this trip, but I look forward to getting away from the persistant Tuk-Tuk drivers, Handmade Suit Tailors and constant odor of the black death known as Fish Sauce.  I realize that I've been in vacation mode here, and now is the time to begin to live in traveling mode.

Talk with you soon from Cambodia. 

Bangkok, Thailand

Holy mother of God I am in Thailand.

After twenty hours in the air over the Pacific, three square meals (literally, they were compartmentalized into boxes) provided by China Airlines, and one very talkative Armenian woman, Gordy and I have officially arrived in Southeast Asia.  We flew in without mishap, and if I was suffering from any lack of media or televison after the grand canyon it was made up in all the complimentary movies provided in-flight.  A nine hour chunk seems so small when divided into four riviting American movies, none of which were actually good or bad, but great for wasting time.  The seats were perfect for my frame, but flying economy on China Airlines was a tight fit for Gordy.  It was going well until the man in front of him decided to recline, and pinned Gordy's knees to the seat-back.  Not a very enjoyable position, even from an outside point of view.

We arrived in Bangkok and got through customs without issue, even filling out an "on arrival" visa wihich we found out American citizens do not need.  Bangkok has a wonderful public bus service, but unfortunatly it does not run at 1 a.m. so we opted for a cab.  When I found out that it was metered I was slightly dissapointed, because I was looking forward to hagaling for the first time, but it got us to Khao San Road without mishap.  The driver talked with us, as much as we were able to understand eachother, and got confused when our reply to "where are you coming from" was "Los Angeles".  We tried "California"- no luck.  "United States"-also no luck.  Finally Gordy, half laughing, said "America" in a classic Dan Wardrop voice.  That was imdietly understood, and we had our first cross culture joke share expierience.  It might have been due to our minimal sleep during 20+ hours of travel, but as we drove into the city I felt calmer knowing that we were less then ten miles into Thailand and had already made a connection with someone who we don't share a language with. 

I would be lying if I didn't have a moment of terror with the cab driver dropped us off on the busteling street and waved towards Khao San Road before driving off into the rain.  At night, KSR is the hub of international parties and drunk Austrailians, which means Taxi drivers refused to drive through it after a certain time for their own safety and sanity.  Gordy and I, big packs on back and litte in front, weaved our way through the crowd in search of our hotel.  Luckily,  KSR is actually rather short, and we found the Buddy Lodge without trouble.  Checking in was interesting, due to the fact that although I had made reservations for October 14, the hotel doesn't recognized those reservations until 8 a.m.- meaning I had to pay another 1,900 Baht (around $65US) to get into my room.  FYI to future Thailand travelers, make sure you are aware of the checking in procedures before finalizing payments- it wasn't a huge issue, but something that could have been avoided. 

After waking up, Gordy and I have been wandering within the Khao San Road boundries, just absorbing the culture.  I already made a purchase from a vendor after realzing that I needed something other then my day-pack to carry simple things in.  I found a beautiful, simple green side purse for 200 Baht and am looking for a good tailor to have some linen pants made. The clothes I brought will serve me well, but alot of travelers that I see have loose fitting linen pants made to ease the heat and blend in with the locals to some degree.  Not many people here wear denim, and my jeans are a little sticky in this humidity.

Today and tomorrow are all about resting and getting things lined up for our next jump to Ankor Wat.

Cheers.

Santa Monica, CA

One Grand Canyon trip down, two months in Asia yet to come!

Gordon and I have been enjoying some transition time in Southern California with his parents since we got off of the Colorado River on the sixth.  The Grand Canyon was everything that one could image, with things completely unexpected added to it for good fun.  Our trip was a conglomeration of old raft guides who knew the rapid layouts by memory and first timers primed to enjoy the river to it's fullest potential.  To Skip, Hawk, Phil Bob, Eileen, Dan, Gordon, Bob, John A, Lena, John B, Keith, Kat, Suzanne and Neville:  Thank you all for a journeying down the river with me, and giving me the greatest first trip fathomable.  No rips, no flips, always black-side down, and only yours truly a member of the Colorado River Swim Team.  Well Done!  I enjoyed parlaying with all you fly cats, and hope to cop a view of you all soon. : )

The trip itself was beyond the hopes that I had started out with.  The first few weeks were filled with hot days, but due to our group enthusiasm and well led trip, we not only got every camp we set our sites on but enjoyed them with time to spare in the afternoon.  While I love to stay zipped in my sleeping bag as long as the next person, there is something to be said for getting up and on the water everyday before nine.  Hats off to all kitchen crews respectively for keeping us fueled, caffinated, and cleaned up in good time every morning. 

The rapids were more then I expected, to say the least.  My 16' boat was given the taller cooler, which caused some confusion rigging it at Lee's Ferry.  For the first two days neither I nor Gordy could figure out why the damn thing wouldn't move in the green line or stay on the angle we set.   My swim in the roaring twenties threw my confindance for a loop, to add to the frustration I was having.  For those curious about what the GC rapids are really like, when the map said "look for a pourover (large rock with water flowing over it creating a hole) river right, then move to the left"  I looked for a pourover- and when I saw a usual sized pourover for the Arkansas River, I began to move.  I pulled directly into the slot above the actual pourover, which was not only larger then my entire boat- which it surfed for a good ten seconds- but created enough force to punch me out of the boat and spit me out a good way down the river.  Lesson to remember: take your normal size understanding of hydrolics, super size them, add ten, and then you might have an idea of these babies.  Beautiful. 

Long story short, Gordy and I split the rowing of the great boat Bessie (named for the stuffed cow head I rigged onto her bow) for the remainder of the trip.  By split I mean Gordy rowed most of it and I provided entertainment, which in hindsight was a better set up anyway.  My voice is much more pleasant then Gordon's, although he plays a mean "Guess that Animal" after a few beers on the party deck. 

The highlight of the trip for me, if one could be picked, was hiking Tapeats to Thunder River.  An eight mile hike through desert, creek bed and scorching switch-backs takes you up the geological layers until you are standing below a waterfall watching the water shoot straight out from the rock.  Like a fire hydrant, the water from the North Rim Aquifer sprays five feet out before it desends down into Thunder River.   Gordy and I hiked up a little later then the main group, and got to the base of the waterfall around noon.  We had started the hike at around eight thirty, and the temperature in the shade was around 101 F as we hiked.   Finally getting up to the waterfall was wonderful, but the best moment came when Gordy showed me a climbing route up INSIDE the source.  Not a climb for all, especially with the rocks baking in the sun for hours before hand.  The first move saw me grasping one ledge hold with both hands, stretching my legs out over an eighty foot shear drop, and doing a blind hop to the other side.  After that, free climbing the entire way, we made our way up around two hundred feet to the opening.  Above the actual source is another cave, which we chimmied into with our headlamps on.  There I could peer my head around into the darkness, and with my light on I witnessed the water moving towards the first daylight it has seen in years.  To be inside an aquifer, seeing water before it touched the sun, filled me with such appreciation for the incredible journey those drops of water had taken; and for the following days I looked at the water of the Colorado with an odd warmth, knowing that I had seen a part of it born again onto the surface only days before.

The end of the trip came too soon, and I will write more on it later- but oddly enough I haven't stopped moving since we got off the trip. 

Gordy's parents, Gordy and I left Flagstaff for Joshua Tree National Park the day after we were picked up from Diamond Cove.   There we hiked, played Eucher, hung out and mentally seperated ourselves from the GC, to prepare for LA and Southeast Asia.

Now I sit in the Travel Lodge on Pico Boulvard, after spending the day wandering along the beach with my Dad.  He flew in to see me off, and it has been such a sigh of relief to see some family for a change.  I bid you all a goodnight, and I will talk to you from Bangkok!

P.S. photos from the Grand are coming, my camera and I are still coming to an understanding with one another.  Please bear with me. 

Off to the Grand!

Today is the day!  Gordy and I leave in a few hours for Flagstaff, where we will meet up with the rest of the party tomorrow. 

This will be my last post until after the Grand Canyon.  Next time I write, Lava Falls will have been conquered by yours truly. 

Adios!

Colorado

Back again,

I flew into Colorado on the last day of August, and it was slightly disappointing.   First off, the Denver airport is actually on the great plains.  Secondly, the fires of California has sent smoke and haze into Denver, overshadowing the supposed view of the mountains.  Thirdly, the gallant and romantic reunion between Gordy and I was thwarted when my plane arrived early (first in my lifetime), leaving me to wander around the airport until I got cell phone service and took the right shuttle to the parking area.  Less then perfect, but hey, at least I am back up in elevation!

Gordon and I spent a few days in Denver with good friends, who also happen to be professionally trained chefs.  For those of you who care or might ever be in Denver, you simply must have lunch at Fuel.  They have zucchini whoopi pies: end of explanation.

Two days later, my first professional baseball game experience done (at which the beer was more expensive then the tickets), Gordy and I returned to the Arkansas River Valley.  Since then we have packed, unpacked, memorized the aisles of Salida's Walmart, hiked mountains, ate crepes and slept in the Van.   Glorious.

For those of you again sitting in desks, wondering why your school email account won't let your sign in, pondering the reasons why professors who don't know how to use Blackboard still insist on uploading the class syllabus on it,  my thoughts are not with you.  They are on the Grand Canyon trip I am about to start on in less then two days.   I will pour some extra Baileys in my coffee in honor of your plodding routines, and when the freezing Colorado River slaps me in the face I will send some happiness your way.

Talk with you all soon.

P.S. I have received my Pentax Optio W80 and it is AMAZING.  Expect photo uploads as soon as I figure out how to work it.

Ontario

Hey all,

The last few weeks have been travel full-  my mom and I spent a week north of the Border hiking at Sleeping Giant Provinical Park before I flew out to Colorado.   Up North, the rain of late summer found us, and drove the two of us into the town of Kekebeka Falls outside of our campground.   During the meal, I discovered the perfect phrase to summarize the feel of North Shore towns.  The exchange follows:
mom: "I'll have the pancakes"
athena: "and I'll have the breakfast scramble."
waitress: "okay, dear.  Brown or White?"
athena: "...what?"
waitress: "Toast. brown or white?"
athena: "....that is amazing"
waitress: "huh?"
athena: "brown, please."
waitress. "okay"

The next time you find yourself debating brown or white toast, look around carefully.  You may be in Ontario.

Last Night in Town

dah dah dahh Dah. Those of you who listen to Ben Folds Five will understand the connection, but enough of that.

Here I am saying goodbye to Wisconsin, again. This is the first time since leaving for college that I actually want to stay longer then the time I've alloted for myself in my hometown. Maybe my mothers right and I am getting old; or maybe it was the magic of the Amish pancake breakfast that I indulged in that has changed my attitude towards my cheese loving state.

My weekend was lovely. My Dad bought some land in Melrose a few years back, a town so small that gets combined with the nearest small town whenever you hear of it. The only information I had about Melrose-Mindoro before this weekend was that it's school district was always two hours late during winter storms. The radio listed them right after La Crescent, when I would lean in hoping to hear "La Crosse School District" next, and instead get "Melrose-Mindoro, Two hours late." What anyone hoped to accomplish in those extra two hours I will never know.

So, back to my last 48 hours in the rain drenched areas of Wisconsin. The Amish Pancake Breakfast was a highlight, along with the three hour bike ride in the hills that followed. To clarify, when I say "bike ride" I literally mean riding on the back of a motorcycle. It has always confused me why people refer to city biking as a 'ride', a word that invokes an image of enjoyable leisure time in my eyes, instead of the sweaty, leg aching workout it actually it.

Anyway, the back of my Dad's 700-cc Vulcan is in my top five favorite places to be. Sitting behind him I get to see the details of countryside lost in a car. No music for distraction, or awkward silence, it is one of the few places where two people can be enjoying the same thing for over two hours and never say a word. One of the best parts is watching the cornfields line up at just the right angle, so that the lanes they create are perfectly balanced. A racetrack for just a split second, that familiar view takes me back home every time I see it.

Dad took me around where he grew up, to the small ten pew church called Trout Run where he went to Sunday school. It's crazy to realize how close these places were to me growing up and never knowing they existed. That night we had a grand bonfire, one of the great midwestern things that I've really missed since moving to Montana. Living in an Amish farming community has it's benefits I discovered- that was the blackest night and brightest stars I've seen since Colorado.

Back in La Crosse it was time to catch up with old friends, (thank you Sophie and Sam (X2) for reminding me how much I hate scary movies/ love Blue Planet-Deep Sea), and say goodbye to family. My love goes out to all of you, and keep an eye on your mail boxes for exotic postcards. They will be coming your way, in varying degrees of appropriateness.

Well, my mom and I are heading up to Canada for the week. Sleeping Giant Chimney Summit and I have an old score to settle, and this time I am old enough to climb the trail even if it is raining. So there, Mother!

Goodnight.

Intinerary

Hello To All!

Sitting here, safe and snug at the kitchen table I grew up around back in grand old Lacrosse, Wisconsin. This being the first, and least glamorous, leg of my fall 2009 adventure I have decided to take advantage of the down time and let you all in on my plans for the next few months.

Here we go:

Now until Aug 24, I will be reconnecting with old friends and future travel buddies in the great state of WI

Aug 24-29: My mother and I are heading up to Canada to do some camping and general female bonding activities. Climb the Sleeping Giant, swim in Lake Superior, and enjoy some fine car camping cuisine. Some bacon grease pancakes are in my future, thank god!

Aug 29/30: Visit GPW and crew up in Minneapolis for a bit. Fly out at 5pm, arrive in Denver on Aug 30 at 6:15pm (NOTICE THE TIME CHANGE GORDON!)

September 1-September 13: Rejuvenate, restock, and repack in Cotopaxi, C.O. Visit with old rafting buddies, have a few drinks in Salida, and get myself back into river mode.

Sept 14: Magically appear in Flagstaff, A.Z. for rigging, introductions, and first look at the Colorado River.

Sept 16: LAUNCH! 21 days, 16 people, two pairs of sunglasses, and a giant leap of faith into one of America's most treasured natural areas.

October 6: Take out.

October 7-October 11: Meet up with Gordon's parents and drive to Los Angeles. Most likely do some camping on the way, maybe spend some time on the coast. Last minute look around at the United States before flying across the Pacific.

October 12: 3:15 pm. Fly out of LAX airport. Two hour layover in Taipei, Taiwan.

October 14: 1:05 am Arrive at Bangkok International Airport. Gordy and I have already booked a three night stay at the Buddy Lodge in Bangkok, which has airport shuttle service twenty-four hours a day.

October 14-17: Sleep off jet lag, visit some of Bangkok's shopping districts and search for tickets towards Cambodia.

October 17- December 10:

Alright, I know this is the part of the journey that has everyone holding their hat a little tighter. What follows is the tentative itinerary that Gordy and I have created through reading about the area, talking with friends that have traveled in this part of the world, and our own wishes on what to see while over there.

Neither of us are planning on traveling into areas that the US government travel site has deemed unsafe, and we intend on sleeping in hostels, B&B's, and family rooms for rent. Although some of you may have had the notion that 'backpacking' means 'hitch-hiking' or 'camping on the side of the road' (thanks a lot Karena!), I would like to assure you that Gordy and I will be staying only in places we have checked out against friends recommendations or that have been mentioned in one of the many cultural travel books we have read through.

That being said, here is our hopeful journey! : ) I am not going to go into details about the places that I hope to visit, because I would like to share my reflections and insights with you while I am over there.

From Bangkok, we will cross the boarder into Cambodia most likely by a travel bus, which will hopefully take us all the way to our first major destination: Angkor Wat in central Cambodia.

After spending a solid few days in Angkor Wat, possibly even a week, we will then travel south to Phenom Pen. On the way I would like to stop at "S-21" and the Cambodian killing fields for a period of time. During this part of our trip I will be paying especially close attention to where we go and not stray off the well traveled path. Not that I fear for our safety, but because I believe it would be disrespectful to go gallivanting into areas that hold such fresh wounds to the people of that country.

Okay, from Phenom Pen we will cross into Vietnam by bus/travel truck and go to the Mekong Delta floating cities in Tra Vinh. Depending on what we find there we will travel to Ho Chi Min city.

From there we will be traveling by sleeper train north to Hanoi, stopping at different whistle stops to explore a bit and return to the train. After some time in Hanoi, Gordon and I will travel to the coast of Northern Vietnam and visit HaLong Bay. I recommend googling "Halong Bay" to realize what a worthy side trip this will be.

After the bay, it's back to Hanoi and then a flight to the capitol city of Laos: Vientiane. Although a bus option does exist, I have it from a reliable source that it is 21 hours of misery over mountain roads. The ticket from Hanoi to Vientiane is around $50 US, and by this time in the trip I feel a little luxury is in order.

In Laos there are a lot of goal and areas that I want to see. A few days in the capitol will then see us down to Louang Phrabang, for some trekking, tubing, and a possible river cruise to Huay Xai.

Back to Vientiane and then tuk-tuk, bus or truck back into Thailand. I would like to then hop over to the Mae Ping National Park for some trekking/hiking time, but finances and general time left will determine that. Then it's back to Bangkok on a sleeper train, back to the Buddy Lodge and suddenly I'm standing in Portland, OR for my sisters last day of college and my mothers fiftieth birthday.

December 10: 5 p.m. fly out of Bangkok, another layover in Taiwan.

December 11: Arrive at 6pm in Los Angeles, catch connecting flight to Portland.

Well, there it is! The life of Athena Norton until Christmas. I will update this blog periodically during my travels, sans the Grand of course, to let everyone know of any changes.

The next entry will be more enjoyable and less business filled, promise. : )

Just getting started

Well, here it is.

In the last forty-eight hours I have learned to never attempt sleeping in a moving semi due to the laws of physics, truck-stops have children's book sections, Canadian talk radio shows loveto use puns and that coming home feels incredible regardless of how much love one has for where they are coming from.

Leaving Missoula was rather interesting, given the continual movement of my ETD (estimated time of departure). Anyone whose life has ever been touched by the long-haul trucking business can attest to its infuriating ability to ruin any carefully set plan. It was amazing though, to be able to watch as the mountains melted into the bad-lands; how the ground became saturated and green the closer to the great lakes we moved. No one from an area outside of the Northern Lakes can really appreciate the amount of moisture that is held in this region. Not surprising to find out that this area has the largest concentration of fresh water in the world, but sadly that interesting fact was left out of my fourth grade geography class.

Anyway, my wonderful Padre was willing to put up with my nonsense long enough to get us from Missoula to Plover, WI in less then two day. That's 700 miles per day; with two stops, for gas. It is amazing the discussion topics that can emerge between family members when there literally is no where else to go- makes one wonder why so few families choose to drive cross country smashed together these days.

We made it though alright with minimal bloodshed, and it is nice to be sitting at the round kitchen table of my mothers house once more. I have ten days here in LaCrosse until the real traveling starts, and a solid night's rest is my top priority.