FatBoy Road Journal

Bean is better and we have revised our trip plan yet again. At this point, we've moved far afield from motorcycles and it seemed appropriate to start a new blog about me and the Bean. So, here's the new blog about the two of us that has all the details.

Heading home

July 2, 2006

Bean's recovery went well yesterday. She was groggy for a while and had some pain, but things got progressively better through the course of the evening. Friends joined us throughout the day and we are grateful for them. Clear liquids and then jello were the order of the evening and Bean tolerated them well.

I was permitted to spend the night sleeping next to Bean on a pull out bed and she slept as well as one can in a hospital. We got up during the night for Bean to take some strolls around the floor, which really helped her recovery.

By this morning, she was pretty much back to her old self in terms of personality. The plan is for her to be released soon - when her labs show she is stable. She's been walking around more and eating more jello. If Bean is feeling up to it (and the doc has already given his okay), we may try to resume the trip - but in a car and not on the bike.

It's good to be the Bean

She's out of surgery and in recovery. Everything went very well.

So it's not as scenic as Route 66

But the Baylor University Medical Center ER is a lot more comforting when you are sick. Bean has been diagnosed with acute appendicitis and will be heading into the OR shortly. We have been here since about nine o'clock last night. She's resting, but has had more than her fair share of pain and nausea last night and this morning.

A change in plans . . .

June 30, 2006

Well, it looks like the trip is off. We are still in Dallas and it is about 11:00 p.m. Bean started having stomach pain about 7:00 or so and it just got worse and worse. We're at the e.r. right now - she's pretty sick . . .

There and back again . . .

June 30, 2006

Los Angeles is in our sights for this weekend. At about 3,300 miles, this will be our longest trip on the bike and will probably have several days where we exceed 750 miles - which was the total distance of a one-day ride back from Florida that Bean and I did last month.

We leave this afternoon sometime and will try to get to New Mexico tonight via Lubbock and Clovis. Tomorrow we will cross New Mexico and Arizona, running mostly on I-40, with perhaps a jaunt onto Route 66 to get our kicks on the way into Kingman, Arizona. The goal is to get to Needles, California by Saturday night.

Sunday morning we'll have a fairly short ride through the Mojave Desert and into Los Angeles. We'll attend the wedding of a friend in Hollywood on Sunday night and then start making our way back on Monday morning. We'll take a northern routing through Las Vegas, the Valley of Fire and into and along the Northern Arizona/Southern Utah routes through Zion National Park, Kanab, Marble Canyon, the Vermillion Cliffs, Monument Valley, into Cortez, Colorado and east towards Pagosa Springs. This will probably be the most scenic part of the trip.

From there, and by now we should be into Tuesday, we'll turn south and run down into New Mexico through the Chama Valley, across the Rio Grande Gorge and on into Taos. We'll be turning left to go clockwise around the Enchanted Circle before getting to Eagle's Nest and then it's a pretty straight (albeit long) shot from there back to Dallas via Amarillo and Wichita Falls.

New items for this trip include rain gear for Bean, rain sheeting stuff for the windshield, a Corbin touring saddle with adjustable backrest for the passenger, a Kuryakyn Full Dresser bag that holds lots of stuff and is pretty rigid, gloves that should be good for riding long distances in hot weather, a 12 volt outlet I installed and some desert-riding clothing. Most of these items are refinements from our trip (which I have not blogged about) last month out to Fort Walton Beach, Florida (as you can tell from the list, we got rained on).

The bike is loaded and ready to go. So are we. Phone coverage will be limited, but I'll try to post via my blackberry as we progress.

Counting down to Sturgis . . .

(I have taken the following series of Sturgis Posts out of date order so that they can be read chronologically forward from the start of the trip instead of backwards as in a typical blog format.)

August 4, 2005

Almost a year ago now a few of us decided that we would like to go to Sturgis for the Black Hills Motor Classic (now known as the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally or just Sturgis). We started making plans (securing a motorhome and a campsite) back in December 2004. The only "big" item left to find was a trailer to haul the bikes. Two months ago, after a fairly exhaustive search we were able to locate a trailer for rent in Waco, Texas.

Despite the planning early on, the trip has not seemed real until now. Last week we met to discuss logistics and preparations are well underway. Beer, cigars, bloody marys . . . ready to go.

We are now at four days and counting until we depart and I think we are all getting anxious. Tomorrow is the last day in the office. Saturday we pick up the trailer in Waco. Sunday we load the bikes. Monday we pick up and load the motorhome and we leave Monday night or Tuesday morning. We'll get to Sturgis sometime on Wednesday - probably in the very early morning - if we drive straight through. We'll stay through Sunday (when the rally ends) and leave that day, getting back to Dallas sometime on Monday.

To the extent we can, I plan to post daily updates of our travels as we go.

Dallas to Sturgis is a nice little drive.

August 5, 2005

It's only about 1,150 miles.

The See Ya! has a range of about 900 miles on a 100 gallon tank of diesel fuel. We might get a little bit less because we are towing the trailer with the bikes in it. So we are probably looking at two stops along the way, maybe one if the mileage is good. It also depends on how much riding on the bikes we do. The bikes can go about 150 miles before stopping for gas - but that is a lot more stopping over the distance and would slow us down a bit.

Anyway, the current plan is that we will head out of Dallas on I-35 and head up to Wichita, Kansas (about 365 miles). This is when we will encounter most of our traffic - in the morning, in the Dallas area. The trickiest part is probably getting out of the neighborhood with a 40 foot motorhome and 20+ feet of trailer behind it.

From Wichita, we will part ways the superslab (which diverts about 100 miles to the east) and roll north on US-81 to I-80 near York, Nebraska (about 230 miles). This will be, roughly, the half-way point of the trip. 600 miles down, 550 miles to go.

After duly acknowledging the halfway mark, we will strike out due west on I-80 for 180 miles until we get to North Platte, Nebraska, where we hear there are some good steaks to be found. With an early start and some good luck on the roads, we just might make it there for dinner.

Sated (hopefully), we will leave Ike's Interstate System again to head north on US-83 through the hearts of Nebraska and South Dakota until we hit I-90, turn west and head into Sturgis (about 370 miles).

It is a nice, flat, little ride.

Ready . . .

August 7, 2005

Forty-eight hours and counting for our planned departure for Sturgis. Things are really in motion now. We went down to Waco yesterday to pick up the trailer for the bikes. The endeavor was not without incident.

We were using a Porsche Cayenne S to pick up the trailer. For some reason, when you purchase a tow package from Porsche, you don't actually have the ability to tow something until you go back to the dealer and buy an electrical connection. Or, in our case, go to the VW dealer because the Porsche dealer is moving and buy a three hundred dollar kit for the twelve dollar part you actually need. This really doesn't make sense - unless, of course, you are selling Porsches.

We ended up getting down to Waco by about noon. I have to say that the guys at the trailer place were great. It's a 20 foot trailer originally set up as a car hauler that they modified for us, adding bike chocks and e-track for tying down the bikes. They were very friendly, helpful and efficient. Plus, they're the only folks we could find within a hundred or so miles who rent enclosed trailers longer than 16 feet.

The ride back was good - although much slower than the ride there. We stopped and had some barbecue at Rudy's. Good stuff. We made it back to Dallas in the later afternoon and, after some manuevering, managed to get the trailer backed all the way down my driveway, behind the gate.

We did load one of the bikes. The trailer, when empty, looks quite large. However, it fills up quickly when you start loading stuff into it. We are pulling four bikes - so there is a front and a back row, slightly offset. Each bike will be secured with a wheel chock and five tie down straps (each strap has an individual working load in excess of the bike's weight). Given the set of chocks behind them, the front bikes are the hardest to get manuevered into proper alignment - it took a while, but with the help of some furniture moving sliders, we were able to get the bike in a good position for the ride up. I expect that the straps will stretch some as we go down the road, so we'll stop to retighten after the first hundred miles or so.

Now we just need the r.v. and we will be set.

Set . . .

August 8, 2005

Sonny and I picked up the r.v. this afternoon. It is big. Really big. With the slideouts extended, it is bigger (and nicer) than some places I have lived. We got a solid orientation on the r.v.'s systems and general operations and then struck out for home - about 30 miles - in the rain - and wind. Not fun. The r.v. is nearly 13 feet tall - so it catches a lot of wind. After a while I got the hang of it and, despite the rain, we made good time getting back into Dallas.

The drive got a little dicey once we got into town and onto the local streets. I should probably go by the name Agent Orange, having wrought a trail of defoliation through Lakewood.

Jaybo was waiting for us when we got back to the house. He and I loaded up his bike and then got to work loading the r.v. Three coolers, sixty pounds of ice, seven cases of beer, four cases of water, three cases of soda and one box of Monte Cristo cigars later, we were mostly packed and definitely ready to go. I think we are all looking forward to getting out on the road.

As is typical, my bags are bristling with electronics - GPS, iPod, XM MyFi satellite radio, laptop computer, a handful of FRS and GMRS walkie-talkie radios, two digital cameras (a snapshooter and an slr), mobile phone (data-capable, linking to the laptop via bluetooth) and a fully digital camcorder with a remote, helmet mountable lens. It is reminiscent of the r.v. from the last (and not particularly good) half of Stripes.

That's the fact Jack.

Go!!

August 9, 2005

We are on the road as I write this - taking a mild detour through the streets of Edmond, Oklahoma. We departed Dallas at about 10:00 a.m. - right about when expected to depart, but perhaps a little bit later than when we had hoped to get on the road. Only minor glitches marked the departure - mostly getting the trailer hitched up to the r.v. The combination of the two vehicles is easily 65 feet.

We started out with me driving, Sonny in the navigator's seat, Jaybo and Smitty riding in the couches. For the first hour or so we watched an informational DVD about Sturgis. Actually, they watched and I pretty much kept an eye on the road and a hand on the wheel.

Traffic was pretty heavy coming out of Dallas and really did not thin out much until we got into Oklahoma. The rig drives pretty well, considering its size, and we seem to be generally making good time and are fairly comfortable at speed. It does get a little dicey when you have narrowed construction lanes (which we have seen twice so far) or a lot of traffic.

After about three or so hours (perhaps a little less), we were showing a half a tank of fuel and general signs of hunger. Accordingly, we stopped just south of Oklahoma City to take on fuel and food. Smitty filled us up - only 29 gallons on a total of about 200 miles (about 170 on our trip). Apparently the fuel gauge is a little on the conservative side.

We checked the bikes for some expected loosening of the straps - and there was some slack that we were able to take up - but the bikes were, and remain, very stable in the trailer. We did, however, determine that the trailer took out a sign of some sort. There is a dent or two and a gouge and puncture in the side of the trailer - oops. After a little bit on investigation, we figured that we had taken a sharp right turn perhaps a little too sharply and knocked down a sign with the front of the trailer, which then ran down the side of the trailer. Fortunately, none of the bikes are close to that exterior wall. The side door did get pretty well bent though - and it looks like we will not be able to access it. We also may have lost our air compressor - which took a pretty good hit.

In any event, having reviewed the damage and filled up on gas, we retired for a bit to eat some of Sonny's chili. Hot. Very hot. Speaking of hot, it is a little toasty in the r.v. - with this much size, it is not possible to keep it all cool. The driving area is reasonably comfortable - but it is over 95 degrees in the bedroom at the back of the r.v. - which is right over the engine.

We got back on the road again after a little bit with Smitty volunteering to put in a few hours behind the wheel. I-35 through Oklahoma City is apparently not continuous and staying on the main road turns into I-235 and goes into Edmond while I-35 diverts slightly to the east. It is a little confusing - and not Smitty's fault - Jaybo, in the navigator's seat, was sleeping.

Since I started writing this, we turned onto historic Route 66 for a bit - an unexpected but seemingly appropriate stretch on the "Mother Road" and got back to I-35. We are now about 135 miles out of Wichita, Kansas.

Sturgis and Devil's Tower

August 11, 2005

Data coverage is terrible and time is short - so my missives will also be terrible and short.

We arrived in Sturgis on Wednesday morning about 6:00 a.m. Dallas time. Smitty and I had pulled the late shift on driving, Smitty went to sleep and I stayed up for a bit with Sonny and Jaybo watching the sun rise, drinking a bloody mary and smoking a cigar.

I crashed for a bit and then we had breakfast, met the nieghbors and got settled in before heading out. The picture to the left is of two of our right-side neighbors who were actually from Billerica, Massachusetts. Nice guys. That's an 8-cylinder Boss Hog motorcycle. No kidding, it's a big-block Chevy on two wheels.

After breakfast, we decided to get on the road and struck out north for a bit and then turned west, heading for Devil's Tower in Wyoming. The Tower is a good hundred miles or so from Sturgis. I have never seen so many bikes - about 9 out of 10 vehicles on the road are motorcycles and they snake along the roads in groups of hundreds at a time. Hulett, Wyoming was just packed with people - thousands and thousands of bikes. We were slowed to an absolute crawl at times. We later learned that it was "No Panties Wednesday" in Hulett. Had we known that, we might have stopped for a bit.

We rolled on through to Devil's Tower, which was also packed. The tower was impressive - physically and as an artifact of history - a monument to a volcano long wasted away by time, leaving only magma that was inside - like a Tootsie Roll Pop for geology. We took some pictures, had a beer and moved along.

We ended up in Spearfish for a late lunch and then went down through Spearfish Canyon. The canyon was amazing and we expect to get back through there at some point to take some pictures of the falls by the side of the road (called Bridal Veil Falls) and some of the other sights. There were long, winding roads with canyon walls on either side of us. We cruised through at about 40 miles an hour to take in the scenery as we rode through the canyon. We rolled through Lead and into Deadwood, where Wild Bill Hickock was killed, as dusk was falling over the town. We rode up Main Street on our bikes and then stopped to take in the sights a bit. Motorcycles lined the streets with nary a parking space to be found. We stayed for a while and then struck out for home where we cooked some burgers and attempted to watch Blazing Saddles. Old men that we are, we all fell asleep during the movie. Sorry, no tales of wild parties and loose women. Maybe tomorrow.

Mount Rushmore

August 12, 2005

We headed out Thursday morning at a reasonably early hour. I'd like to think that was a good excuse for having left my disk brake lock engaged on the bike. The lock is a piece of metal that wraps around your rear brake and prevents the rear wheel from turning a full revolution. We were all ready to go, bikes started and Sonny, Smitty and Jaybo had already started moving. I put the bike in gear and start moving - then the engine dies. I try again - same result. Everyone stops to see that I am apparently having bike trouble. I'm thinking there is some serious problem with my bike. I eventually got my head clear enough to figure it out. Duh. The worst part is that the lock comes with an orange bungie cord to be used as a reminder that the lock is engaged. Sonny had just bought the same lock and put it on his bike the night before. When he put it on, he asked me where I wrap the bungie cord. I proudly told him that I had never used the bungie and didn't need it because I never forget my disk lock is there. Payback.

First stop was a brief one at Main Street in Sturgis to take our first look and pick up a few trinkets. Even at nine in the morning there was little parking to be had. Seeing so many bikes lined up from one end of the street to the other is really something else. There were bikes of nearly every conceivable shape, make and color. Although Harleys make up the bulk of the bikes at Sturgis, there were plenty of Hondas, Yamahas, Triumphs and custom choppers too. The amazing thing is that out of a reported 400,000 bikes, I don't know that you would find any two that were exactly alike.

We then rolled out back through Deadwood and down towards Mount Rushmore. The sky was fairly cloudy and the air was cool. After a few miles, we pulled over and put on some warmer riding gear. As now seems to be routine, the scenery was beautiful - winding roads through mountains and canyons, lakes tucked away by the side of the road and trees towering alongside us.

After stopping for a quick bite in Hill City, we pressed on. The approach to Mount Rushmore was a good run. I don't really know how to describe Rushmore, and although pictures can show you something, it really cannot possibly capture the majesty and scale of this monument. As a human endeavor, Rushmore is simply mind boggling. It is one thing for a sculptor to carve something out of a block of stone, but I just do not understand how someone sees that in a mountain and then makes it come to life. Rushmore is truly magnificent and a reminder of our history and what it means to be an American in a truly historical sense.

Rain threatened our departure from Rushmore, so we paused a bit before striking out. We, however, are no weathermen. We rolled east to take Iron Mountain Road down towards Crazy Horse and through some tunnels. The road was narrow, steep and winding with switchbacks over bridges and through tunnels barely 12 feet wide. We stopped to take a picture through one tunnel that framed Mount Rushmore in the distance. At that time we saw a bunch of folks coming the opposite way in full rain gear, so we donned our gear and soldiered on. The rain came down pretty heavily as we crested the mountain and now had to do even tighter switchbacks, downhill, in the rain. Progress was made in small increments - perhaps ten miles an hour or less at times. Lovely. If it had not been raining, the ride would have been technically challenging with enjoyable vistas across the plains. As it was though, it was a little nerve wracking.

After we got through the mountain, we stopped in front of Custer State Park and decided to head back north to Rapid City rather than west towards Crazy Horse - which we figured could wait until another day when the weather was a little better and we could better enjoy the ride on Needles Highway to Crazy Horse. The sky had cleared and the sun had come out, so we took off our rain gear for the 25 mile or so ride to Rapid City and planned to stop at the Harley Davidson display at the convention center there. As it turns out, the removal of the rain gear was a not the best idea.

As we got closer to Rapid City, it started to rain, but it was light. We stopped briefly under a bridge and Sonny threw on his rain jacket. I figured that we were close to the Center and we could ride through it. We were further than I thought. Then it started coming down in buckets, then in barrels. We were drenched. I got the worst of it. When we got to the convention center, the Harley exhibits were closing for the day (5:00 p.m.). This seems awfully early given the fact that most people seem to spend the day out riding. In any event, we stayed until we dried off a bit and the rain appeared to have passed.

Rapid City is about 27 miles from Sturgis, and we rolled out on Interstate 90 only to find even heavier rain. It was hailing. That's right folks, it was raining rocks and we were on our bikes. We stopped and took umbrage under an overpass and then watching the weather figured it wouldn't get any better for a while, so we got back on the bikes. The rain stopped almost immediately. Go figure. Interstate speeds helped dry us off a little bit. We got back into Sturgis and crawled our way through the heavy traffic to get to the campground. We watched one woman take a wide left turn on a custom chopper and front end a parked car. Nice. She was fine. I can't say as much for her ride.

We only clocked about 150 miles, but were exhausted from the ride. We cooked some burgers, had a few beers and wandered over to the beer tent to listen to some live music and watch people. Good times.

The Badlands

August 13, 2005

After two days of riding in the Black Hills and mountainous terrain in Wyoming, the Badlands beckoned on Friday. I don't believe any of us knew very much about the Badlands, what was there, how it got its name or why we needed to go see it. Each of these questions was answered in turn.

We rolled out fairly early in the morning with the expectation that we would get the ride in and then have some time to relax before heading out to see a little bit of the nightlife. Based on some discussions with other riders at the campground, I plotted out our route a little bit differently than the typical route out and back from the Badlands. The actual national park entrance (for the northern half of the park) is a good 80 miles east of Sturgis with another entrance some 30 miles further east. We planned to head to ride for the far point and ride the Badlands from east to west.

We rolled out of Sturgis to head southeast to Rapid City to catch Route 44 to the Badlands. Rather than take the interstate I directed us to a route that I later learned is Vanocker Canyon, which takes National Forest Service Route 26 through the Black Hills National Forest. (I have, by the way, learned that the Black Hills are so named because of the predominance of Ponderosa Pines, which have very dark foliage and give the hills a dark appearance.) The ride through Vanocker Canyon actually starts with a dirt and gravel road. This led to a degree of concern from Smitty and Jaybo who thought I was out of my gourd. Sonny swears that he believed in my routing skills all along. Nonetheless, everyone followed my lead and after about a mile on unpaved roads, the pavement picked up again - to a four lane highway boulevard through the canyon with sweeping turns and beautiful vistas. In Sonny's words, "Outstanding!"

Coming out of the Vanocker Canyon, we arrived on a residential street in Rapid City and drove until we found a gas station to fill up the bikes. We then moved onto the plains to cover the eighty or so miles to the park entrance by way of the Buffalo Gap National Grassland. The highway was straight as an arrow and fairly sparse so we opened it up with Jaybo taking the point and watched the mesas, mountains and spires of the Badlands drift into view.

After some time, we rolled into Interior, South Dakota. Interior is part of the Pine Ridge Reservation which is Olgala Lakota-Sioux Native American reservation that occupies the two poorest counties in the United States. We stopped in Interior at the A&M Cafe for lunch. It was here that we had the best service of the trip and some of the best (in my opinion) food. Interior is just a few miles from the entrance to the Badlands and not far from where the most complete T-Rex skeleton, Sue, was found.

Upon entering the park, we were consistently amazed by the slender spires, knife-sharp ridges and intricately detailed slopes. A brief stop at a ranger station yielded the fascinating background of the Badlands. Designated "bad lands" by both Native American and white settlers and traders for its harsh and forbidding nature, the Badlands are not mountains at all, but the collected sediment of sand, silt and clay from the rising of the Rocky Mountains millions of years ago. A shallow ocean covering much of the plains, followed by a river then proceeded to erode the somewhat easily eroded sediment into incredible structures.

We took our time riding through the Badlands, admiring the scenery and stopping to snap a few photographs. The path was a good thirty miles or so and at times ascended onto great mesas that overlooked the plains for what seemed like hundreds of miles. Near the end of the ride through the park, we ascended to its highest point, Pinnacles Peak, which gave the grandest view of all. I'll let pictures tell the story.

There was a fairly good number of other bikers on the road today, but not as many as we had seen on previous days. It may have been because of our routing, or because the Badlands is a more distant ride than most of the other rides, or because we were getting later in the week and people were starting to leave town. In any event, it is always interesting to see the bikes and people -

including what some people think is good for wearing to walk around in a park:

Following Pinnacles Peak, we rode about another mile before exiting the Badlands and heading into Wall, South Dakota, home of Wall Drug which bills itself as the largest drugstore in the United States. However, hoping to get home and rest a bit before heading out on the town, we were pressed for time and decided to head for home with a good 80 miles to go. From there we struck out for home on the interstate, making a stop in New Underwood for gas. I'll detail the events that unfolded from there in another post . . .

It was a sign . . .

with a simple message. And, it was a small sign, tucked over at the side of the road. One would think it would have been bigger or posted a few miles earlier, given the import of the message inscribed upon it. "Paved Road Ends" - not in 1,000 feet or 500 feet - right there, at the crest of a hill, and good luck to ya fellas.

It is really not the kind of thing you want to see when hauling up a country road. Smitty and I rolled onto the unpaved dirt and gravel road at about 75 miles an hour I would guess, having just passed a farm truck. We gradually slowed and the farm truck now passed us, kicking up a plume of dirt and gravel at us as it sped past. I would imagine that farmer had a good laugh on us. Not as good as the laugh that Sonny and Jaybo had on us later on.

We had stopped in New Underwood for gas on our way back to Sturgis from the Badlands. The map showed a county road heading north and connecting to another east-west road that would bring us in on the east side of Sturgis - allowing us to avoid the traffic jam of downtown Sturgis. Sonny was insistent that, even with the delay of getting through downtown, it would be faster to take the interstate than some county road on which we probably couldn't even go 70. So we split up, Jaybo and Sonny on the interstate, Smitty and I on the back roads, and the race was on.

For the first ten miles that we rolled up the road, it was wide, fairly straight and devoid of traffic. We rolled the miles quickly and my mind was back in sixth grade math. Sonny and Smitty leave point A for point B at the same time, by different routes. Sonny averages 75 miles per hour until he gets to the last 4.5 miles, where he averages 10 miles per hour. Smitty averages 65 miles per hour the whole way. Who gets there first?

The dirt and gravel seemed to moot that question. The going was as quick as 50 miles per hour at times when the road was hardpack and much, much slower through the downhill turns on slushy gravel - it was like surfing your bike. We had about 25 miles of that. Ugh. And we missed an unmarked turn on the map that cost us about 5 miles. We were grateful when we made it back to paved road and put the hammer down to try to get to the campground - we had thought all was lost.

However, when we arrived at Ironhorse, Sonny and Jaybo were nowehere to be seen. We couldn't believe our luck and celebrated - loudly. How could it be? My god, we had surfed through 25 miles of gravel and still beat them back to Sturgis, our bikes caked with mud and grime, our boots and rainsuits sodden.

The thrill of victory was short-lived.

Sonny and Jaybo emerged from the r.v. They had arrived 20 minutes earlier and parked their bikes in the trailer so we wouldn't see them. Bastards. I'd still like to think that, despite our loss, we had the better end of the adventure - having seen some back roads and cool sites. In reality, I'm just salving the pain of a loss.

At least Sonny and Jaybo got poured on going through Rapid City.

August 13, 2005

Home

August 19, 2005

I have added pictures to Rushmore and Devil's Tower and new posts about the Badlands and the ride home from there, so read on - because there's new stuff, even in what you may have already read.

We are home. Safe and sound. More to come. Now that we are home, I am backfilling with some photos, better descriptions and new posts about the trip. I didn't have much, if any, of an internet connection and I also figured time was better spent finding more adventure than writing about it . . .