The Trouble with Tribbles and Tequila

We checked out, never having taken advantage of the pool, and headed north to the Redwood National Park. The drive was windy and cut through the mountain pass along side the Eel River. We pulled over at Confusion Hill, a tourist attraction, where there is a house (shack) built into the side of a hill that seems to defy gravity. We paid our entry fee and headed up the hill until we reached the house (shack) filled with exhibits. Golf balls and water appeared to travel up hill and we appeared to be standing on the wall of the shack in this Confusion Hill shanty town. I felt nauseous as we took photos and stopped at every hands-on experiment. As we exited, the large man behind the counter asked how it was. I asked if he offered any anti-nausea meds with the tour, the room was so disorientating that I joked I felt drunk. Big mistake. We were then a captive audience, as the only customers at Confusion Hill, to the following story: 

Kai Blair Witchin'

"Well, I live here onsite. One night after about 4 double shots of tequila, I thought I saw a light on in the house (shack)." (After announcing his affinity for tequila I couldn't help but glance down at his giant swollen gut likely filled with a completely cirrhosed liver and fluid build up). "So, naturally, I grabbed my flash light and my shot gun- sometimes I grab the pistol, but this night I grabbed the shotgun. And I went up and there and chk-chk, boooom! I let a couple of shots out into the air. I didn't see any more lights... and then I figured out that it was a car across the way pulling out. The headlights when they come up and over the hill there cause the house (shack) to light up."

Wow- great story. I wonder if he ever brushes his teeth?

"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to check out your chest.. but um are those 'tribbles' on your shirt?"

I look down dumbfounded.

"Obviously, you're not a Star Trek fan, huh?"

Obviously, you're not smarter than a 3rd grader.
"These are owls on my shirt, sir."

"Oh man, they look just like that episode, 'The Trouble with Tribbles'. That's from the original Star Trek with Capt. Kirk. These little critters called 'tribbles' just keep multiplying. Anyway, great episode. Actually, they once referenced the 'tribbles' in one of the 'Next Generation' episodes as well, Whoopi Goldberg did."

Fascinating.

"Well, y'all have a safe trip, hey where y'all from anyway?"

Yikes. "Alaska."

"Woooo-oooo bet you're happy to get out of the cold, huh?"

"Yup, take care now, bye!"

Those pesky Tribbles

Having safely made it out of Confusion Hill and away from the Trekky alcoholic, we headed north to find a campground. Due to budget constraints, and the end of summer season, many of the state parks in California are closed for the season. Occasionally you'll find that they're open, but with restricted services available. We lucked out and found a spot at the Elk Prairie Campground in the Redwoods off coastal Highway 101 and pulled the Truckster into a spot nestled among some of the biggest trees I've ever seen. It was dark in the forest as the trees are covered with lush moss and the branches reach out across to each other blocking out much of the sun. We made spaghetti and made a campfire using up the last of our wood. This was likely our last night in the Truckster as we had just 350 miles more back to Portland, OR to complete our full circle of America, minus the middle, boring bits. 

The drive through northern California was beautiful, filled with foggy forests, large Redwoods, quirky restaurants and museums, and some of the ugliest people this side of the Mississippi. Not too long after leaving wine country, we began to see more and more pock marked people on foot with less and less teeth. It was clear that we were entering Meth Country. 

We made our way further north to Hillsboro, Oregon arriving at my dad's house around 8:00 pm. We ate left over spaghetti and Indian food from the Truckster and drank a bottle of champagne that had traveled with us all around the country. We had taken the bottle from Kai's parents house in Astoria, OR over 2 months ago and had never found the right time to open it. Now that we had traveled 12,390 miles back to our starting point in Oregon, we figured it was as good a time as any. We were still happily married, had all our fingers and toes, were disease free (as far as we know), and had many new rich life experiences to add to the bank of living. We popped the bottle like rappers and toasted to the success of Operation Family Truckster.

Why Isn't Anyone Carding Me?

It was hot and sunny in Santa Rosa and we based ourselves at a Motel 6 with a pool. On that Friday, we spent my birthday touring Sonoma Valley, stopping at wineries I'd been to before and a couple of new ones as well. While at Kunde Vineyards, I remembered Leonard, the man who had given our girl's trip a tour last year in August. Len gave me a free birthday tasting, and then took a tour of the cave cellar with Jim, a retired ICU nurse, and ate fresh grapes from the vine in the vineyard. Later at Imagery Winery, we thought we had heard that your $10 tasting was free with a wine purchase. Kai's logic was why not buy a bottle and it would be like getting a $30.00 bottle for just a few bucks because we were going to spend $20.00 on the two tastings alone. After we picked out a white wine we both enjoyed, Kai received his bill for $51.00- two tastings and a $29.00 bottle plus tax. Whaaaaa? When we asked the girl to clarify, she then told us something about free tasting with 2 bottles purchase per person. Sheesh! Our scam totally backfired. Luckily, she had given us a pass to their sister winery for two free tastings. While I was ready to get back to the motel pool and beginning to remember why I don't drink much wine (giant headache) we HAD to go use our free pass to make up for the rookie purchase. At Benziger we met Greg, a kid from San Diego, who poured us free sips after free sips while discussing some of the best areas to rent in SD, and what freeways to avoid, and which beach communities were less touristed and so on. At the end, he asked obligatorily if we were ready to purchase anything we had tried for the last 45 minutes. We both looked at each other and said, "Ahh, no I think we have enough wine from the last place, right honey?" Later Greg.

At Kunde Gunde's, my great great grandmother's estate...

Not the most manly of wine drinks, the port dessert wine

After a wino nap back at the room on my part, we got ready for dinner. We spent my b-day night at an Indian restaurant complete with a hippie, white belly dancer. Not to pull a Seinfeld here, but, what's the deal with hippie white chicks getting into belly dancing? I've never been to a middle eastern restaurant and actually seen a beautiful authentic dancer, no Bollywood hotties, just soft white girls with ridiculously long hair and an affinity for finger symbols. I can't help but feel a little uneasy while trying to eat my dinner as this chick is flipping her hair, which is down to her ass, around in circles, and shaking her hips at my elbow. I mean, do I stop eating to watch her? Do I tip her? Do I get up to dance with her? It was considerably more awkward as there was just two other tables with patrons at them. One of which was the hippie's boyfriend who clapped ferociously after each number. Yes there was more than one. It was decided to just pretend she wasn't there and eat my birthday dinner while it was hot. We clapped when it was all over, and got back to the fun Bollywood music videos on the TV. After we were totally full, the chef came out to ask how everything was. We smiled and thanked him as it was very good. He then mumbled something about dessert, I shook my head, "Oh no thanks, were totally full...." My voice trailed off as he was already back near the kitchen ordering dessert to be brought to our table and scolding another waitress as our water glasses were nearly empty. Within one minute we had complimentary dessert on the table and refills of water. I glanced down my dress to make sure my cleavage wasn't out of control, it wasn't- so he must have telepathically surmised that I looked like a birthday girl in need of free dessert. 

Later back at the room I enjoyed the biggest, most chocolatey cupcake known to man that my loving husband had picked up for me. We got caught up on a few episodes of 'Sons of Anarchy' before falling into a Indian curry, wine, chocolate cupcake, & rice pudding induced coma.

Come on Down, There's Plenty of Room!

So having not seen the impressive Kings Canyon, we had to settle for the 2nd most visited National Park behind Yellowstone, Yosemite. Once again, we were arriving at dusk. I had called ahead to see if we needed to reserve a campsite, but it being mid-week in mid October, the woman at the other end said not to worry about it, there was plenty of room. So we took our time in cruising up to Glacier Point where we soon began to see snow in the woods along with wildlife. We hiked out to the view point and were given a magnificent panoramic view of Half Dome and whatever the other rocks are named. We stayed for a while taking photos and listening to one of the Ranger Talks being given. After a while, we were burnt out from dumb questions and Euro tourists smoking at the top so we hopped in the van to get a glimpse of El Capitan and our campsite.

Heading down into Yosemite Valley it began to get dark with the full moon providing the only light. We pulled up to the main campground reservation center where the woman had instructed us to simply find a spot and then pay in the morning as they closed at 5:00 pm. But when I approached the reservation center all I saw were signs that said that all the campgrounds were full. We then systematically drove, with hope in our hearts that the sign was wrong, to each and every campground, only to establish that they were in fact all full. We had to set out to find the nearest RV park or campground outside of the park, but before we did, we pulled over to view El Capitan in the dark. The moon illuminated the mountain's front and like tiny fireflies, you could see the head lamps of climbers resting in their port-a-ledges. There were at least 10 different lights all at different routes and heights along the rock face. It was cool enough that I didn't care if we didn't see it in the light.

We pulled into the Indian Flats RV Park just as the owner was locking the door for the night. We were able to secure a spot and get a hot shower. The next morning we drove back to the park to grab a postcard from the visitors center and take some photos in the daylight. We've been collecting these cool old travel poster postcards from each National Park we've visited. They are reproductions of the old WPA (Works Progress America) travel posters that a ranger created for the National Parks. After not finding any at the gift shop, I asked a ranger if he knew of them. He said he couldn't convince marketing to carry them, but gave me the website of Ranger Doug, the ranger who is recreating them. Turns out I could've skipped all these visitor centers and just ordered online once we were home. I'm not really much of a collector, but we thought these postcards could make cool wall art for when we aren't living in a van anymore. 

We took the dog off leash into a huge field and the base of El Cap and spotted some of the climbers when had seen in the dark the night before. We stood in the sun snapping photos while KK rolled in the tall grass likely trying to get the scent of whatever dead animal, urine, or feces had once been there on her. We did a couple of nature walks to the many impressive waterfalls and rivers in Yosemite before exiting the park, yet again.  

It would be my 31st birthday in just 2 days and my driver said I could go where ever I wanted. I chose Santa Rosa, California just above San Francisco but miles away from the hustle and bustle and fog.

Like a Phoenix From the Ashes, The Truckster Rises

We had been told by more than one person at the wedding that we should visit Kings Canyon National Park in addition to Yosemite or even in leu of it. Bold statements, we decided to see it for ourselves. We entered through the sister park, the Sequoia National Park with intentions of seeing giant Sequoia trees, before hitting the breathtaking canyon. We had just about an hour left of sunlight and we were hoping to climb to the top of Moro Rock to get a sunset view of the park when the Truckster began to sputter. We had climbed 4400 feet on a road switch-backy enough to make a snake carsick. We pulled over as soon as we could and looked under the hood. Oil level seemed fine, the engine wasn't over heating at all and we had plenty of gas. I walked back to the passenger door and noticed what appeared to be Truckster blood spewing out onto the pavement below. We looked downhill and could see a trail of blood all the way up to where we were standing. As we were peering under the van, a nice man and his family pulled over. They were from San Diego but he was randomly wearing an Alaska t-shirt. He said he had just seen a van just like ours up ahead with the same issue, the front seal on the transmission was blown. Yikes, I thought, I didn't really know what that meant, but I did know that we were in the middle of frenching no where and it was a good thing we had emergency roadside service with Geico. I was able to get cell reception in one 4 inch by 4 inch square on the road, and if I moved my neck either way, I lost Shaumika, my Geico representative in Georgia. I strained to hear Shaumika over the couple who had pulled over to help us as they blabbed about the Truckster to Kai. "Miss Ved-a-No-Ha, can you hear me? Miss Ved-a-No-Ha?? Hello, hello?" It was the most frustrating conversation I've ever had to participate in, but finally after 30 minutes we were able to give her our GPS coordinates and she said a tow truck would be there in the morning to rescue us. It was 6:30 pm and all of the repair shops were closing so the tow truck would be there at 8:00 or 9:00 am the following day. How completely frustrating and annoying, to add to the annoyance level the good Samaritan wife was very reluctant to leave us on the hill as we were "in bear country." She must have said "bear country" 7 times before I shut her up by rudely announcing that we box bears for fun back in Alaska in our front yard. 

Truckster Blood

No thanks to Geico, I was able to make tacos and we sat down for a beer at our temporary camp site. The only traffic going by were construction workers heading up the mountain to repair the road which closed to the public at 9:00 pm. I was able to text my family to let them know we were without cell service unless I was in my pavement square, and received a text back from my dad. He suggested that it was likely NOT the seal, but simply that the transmission fluid had over heated in attempting to climb that giant hill and purged. He told us to add more transmission fluid and keep on keepin' on.

Problem was we just had one quart on us, but we figured it was worth the try, and sure enough it was enough to get us down the hill. We camped that night in the park and then next day in the sunlight we made it back 30 miles to the nearest town where we purchased a case of fluid. That nice couple who had pulled over to help left us their business card. I debated sending this email:

Dear James,
Right after you left us on the side of the road, I called my dad who happens to be a better mechanic than you, and he told us how to fix it, thus avoiding sleeping overnight on the side of a mountain and auto-repair shop fees as well as tow fees we're confident Geico would try to get out of us. Thanks for pulling over, but please don't quit your day job.

Sincerely,
The Ved-a-no-has

We bought a case of ATF at the Chevron

The Truckster requiring frequent fluid level checks

We left the park never having seen the General Sherman, the largest living tree by volume on Earth. Nor did we see a single canyon worthy of a oooo or awwwww. Kai clenched his fist tightly in the air as we drove away, "We'll get you General Sherman, we'll be back!"

Goooo Meat!!!

I received a frantic call from my friend Melissa in San Diego informing me that the condo she had rented for all of us was a "dump." Having lived in a van for the last two months with the occasional Motel 6 as a splurge, we were stoked to stay anywhere if there weren't bodily fluids on the walls or blatant pubic hair in the tub. We pulled up to our 2 bedroom condo in the heart of Mission Bay, excited to get this fun weekend started. The condo, which was a bit on the pricey side, was definitely not a dump, but also a bit misrepresented on the VRBO site. There was some mold in the bathroom and the carpet had some stains and it was very noisy, but we were blocks from the beach and they allowed dogs. Again, did I mention we've been living  in a van for 67 days?

Naturally, us girls hit it hard that first night. Melissa and I were able to secure penis straws and nasty gifts at Dr. Love's Sex Shop in Mission Beach, so the bachelorette could be properly embarrassed and decorated. We finally got into the full swing of the evening by creating a dance party at a not very dance party like bar, only to be thrown out as they were closing at 2:00 am. So we took dance party back to the bride and groom's living room, something I'm sure the groom was less than excited about. 

The Bachelorette

Who knew Theresa Giudice would be out with us?

We went to bed on night one at 4:44 am. This was not a great way to start off the long weekend as there was still so much more festivities to attend. Friends from all over the country began to arrive for the wedding, and there was much to do to help the bride and groom. Miraculously, we managed to stay sober enough to help out the day of the wedding with setting up tables, decorations, flowers, and chairs. The wedding went off without a hitch, the bride and groom, two of the best looking people we know, looking even more fabulous on their special day. After the Brazilian meat-fest dinner, we cleared some tables and started dance party. My feet began to blister and I received several cuts that night as I competed in a couple of dance offs with known spastics. Luckily, my heat rash was all but a memory, as we danced the night away. We helped pack up the tables and decor before moving on to a near by bar with the bride and groom and the die-hard Alaskan crew. That night we found a pile of 9 different pair of womens black leggings in our parking space. So naturally, the boys had a fashion show and a ballet recital in our condo living room. (You can't make this shit up).

Tony trying desperately to win the Dance Off

Me and the beautiful bride and groom

David Lee Roth

Patrick Slayze

The next day we spent drinking left over beer at the newlywed's home, nursing our hangovers in the fall heat. We packed up the following day and made a decision to go back to Oregon to fetch my Robot car. We decided that the Truckster could be a bit of a parking conundrum once we established a residence in San Diego and a bit of an eye sore in the meanwhile for Matt and Renata's neighbors. We went to lunch at a Brazilian churrascaria, a downtown favorite of ours. For about $30 per person, you stuff your face for hours at a salad bar that makes you feel guilty, then waiters come to your table to drop off slices of succulent meat such as steak, Portuguese sausage, bacon wrapped whatevers, and pork onto your plate. Just when you think you cant eat anything else, you find yourself back at the salad bar for fried bananas and some of the best papaya you've ever tasted. Kai and Jason actually jumped to hi-five as we entered the building, something we knew they wouldn't be able to accomplish upon exiting the establishment. Afterward, we dumped some more things at Matt and Renata's to lighten the load north. We said goodbye to all our old friends as they caught planes to their respective homes, and we hopped back in the Truckster yet again for more adventure.