Take Me out to the Ballgame...

So the San Francisco Giants won the 2010 World Series (a hilarious name for a competition that doesn't get more worldly than Canada), making them the shiznit of the moment as it is opening week here. And who was lucky enough to watch them play the Cardinals? Yup, you guessed right. And so Daniel experienced his first Star Spangled Banner and sang along with the stadion during seventh inning stretch. I've decided this is my sport: garlic fries, hotdog, buttery popcorn, beer, and a batter they call the Panda who releases 'pandamonium' when he bats (and who's fans wear panda hats). Bring on the World Series 2011, it's ON!

Yosemite

And so it has come to this: the final adventure.

With just a week to go before we go home, we're cramming as much goodness into our systems as we possibly can before the money runs out. Over the last month we've spent our time justbeing- the Bay Area has accepted us and we have built some sort of a life here. We've been photographing, developing, printing, basking, sauntering, cooking, cleaning, washing, sketching, printing, sewing, cutting, drawing, visiting, socializing. Oh, and eating- lots of that. And subsequently gaining. And fantasizing about losing. But amid all activities was one we had missed on our road trip, and we still desperately wanted to achieve: Yosemite, the Mother of All National Parks. As luck would have it, we have an exceptionally kind uncle who lent us his car (again) with a trunkload of camping gear. Daniel feverishly checked the weather report every hour on the hour before we left, confirming that the spring sun would be shining down on us at incredible temperatures for the time of year. We were set! A few hours, a small glitch in the map-reading, some light arguing and an In-n-Out burger later, we were driving through Yosemite with our windows rolled down, 25 degrees blowing in and Sublime on the stereo. Bliss!

We cruised up to Camp Curry and traversed the snow to the reception in our flip flops. We checked in, and then asked about bears. According to exceptionally kind uncle above, the bears would still be hibernating. We mentioned this to Receptionist, who looked at us like we were slightly mad, exclaimed "Oh no, they're VERY active", and proceeded to give us a lecture about bear safety and ample handouts (possibly known as the "European Pile") with various summaries of the lecture, also in pictures for us special folk. Obviously we didn't look very "Bear Aware". Part of being the latter was keeping anything even remotely edible in a bear locker at all times in Camp Curry (CC). This involved putting oneself in a bear's shoes, who apparently also thinks sanitary pads and deodorant are delicious. "But where are we supposed to cook?", we spluttered. Receptionist looked at us in disbelief. There was a place we could go to by car, on the other side of the valley. Right. She attempted to thwart our cooking plans by giving us yet another handout with "Dining Options" in the park, which we waved off- we are purists after all. So after we settled ourselves in our lovely non-heated canvas lodgings, we headed out to the picnic area to cook some dinner. We initially drove past it thinking it was just a trail head, but after a dead end further on we realized that the desolate bit of park we'd just seen was indeed where we needed to be. Not another soul was there, and it was freezing cold and starting to get dark. We purists opted for the $15 buffet in the end. God punishes: we were lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of teenage boys in heat and the blood curdling screams of the girls they were trying to impress, and about 600 other excited children of all ages on the first night of a school trip. We also understood the banks of snow around us as we lay there freezing our little butts off under the three wool blankets we initially thought would keep us toasty. With little separating us from sub zero temperatures than a canvas wall, we piled on the thermal underwear, socks and hats and jumped in our sleeping bags under a pile of blankets. I think I cried at some point. We woke up to find bear paw prints outside our tent and locker, which was slightly unnerving. It caused light sleeping in any case.

We took a GORGEOUS hike up towards Vernal Falls the next day (unfortunately the last bit of the trail was closed, we found out at the top), and also saw Mirror Lake which reflected Half Dome beautifully. When we hit the cooking grounds that night the tables were full and thebarbecues were smoking. Karma rewarded us with a relatively quiet but definitely much warmer night's sleep. The next morning we drove down to Mariposa Grove to see the giant sequoias which were absolutely amazing. It was crystal clear and VERY snowy- we were standing on top of 2 meters of snow (the grove had had 3,5 in total this year!) looking down on the information posts that we usually looked up at. The bathrooms had been snowed in completely, as had any other form of housing. That and the trees being abnormally large made for a pretty bizarre but very beautiful scene to walk through. There is also something about walking on a plowed road with a wall of snow on either side, or on top of a thick blanket of snow, wearing a tank top and/or shorts that makes life pretty fabulous. 'Nuff said.

The next morning it was FREEZING cold and snowing! We had timed our visit perfectly. We left Yosemite in a flurry of thick snowflakes, unable to see any of its glory above tree level. It was one of the most breathtaking scenes either of us have ever seen.

And now, for our last week...

Rollercoasters and Tsunamis

We were leaving Soledad with coffee in our drink holders and Mexican norteño blasting out of our speakers, the windows rolled down and the sun beaming in when we learned of Japan. It was suddenly not such a beautiful day. First Christchurch, now Japan- we did not visit the area that was hit worst, but even stories from Tokyo sent chills down our spine. It is absolutely crazy to hear these stories and see these pictures of disasters unfolding in familiar territory. It was also a rude awakening to the fact that we had been traveling the so-called Pacific Ring of Fire, and were still in it- this is, as far as seismic activity goes, the créme-de-la-créme of notable zones. Top notch, this is. So when we started to hear the tsunami warnings on the radio and see all of the beaches and coastal rest stops on Highway 1 were closed and guarded by police, we started wondering how real the threat was. I mean, we had lived in a complete bubble as far as the West Coast was concerned for three weeks and we were in no way capable of gaging "normal" coastal activity. We are bloody Dutchies for godssake. However, having been in the States for long enough to know that if anyone likes to create hysteria, it's the American, we figured we were probably safe to continue. Logic told us that if it was life-threatening, the highway would most likely be closed.

We were on our way to go ride the roller coaster on the Santa Cruz boardwalk to end our trip and I was excited. I had been trying to go on a roller coaster throughout the trip, but it seemed like the gods were against me. The one in Vegas didn't work out, we passed one on our way over the border of Nevada and California but it was only open on weekends. This one was last chance saloon. It was supposedly a really rickety wooden one that had been built in the 1930s- extra thrill! We entered Santa Cruz, and everything seemed to be going well- we were even able to synchronize our map reading and driving skills to get us there! However, the closer we got to the boardwalk, the worse the traffic seemed to be getting. There were six choppers circling above us. This is perhaps the point where you are all wondering why we didn't put one and one together and assume the boardwalk, a wooden construction built in the sea, might be closed due to the possibility of a tsunami in that very same sea. Well, it was shortly after we saw the choppers that it started to dawn on us, and we flipped the radio on only to hear that Santa Cruz harbor had been hit by the tsunami, albeit a very much watered down version, and had caused quite some damage. Three people had gone missing (because they sneaked down to the beach to take pictures, NOT because they were minding their own business and carrying on as per usual), but I think all of them were found later.

No rollercoaster. No Santa Cruz. But lots of detours and polite but stern policemen waving traffic on. And lots of blocked off streets. The entire coastal area of Santa Cruz was closed. We never even saw it was on the ocean. It makes a great bar story though.

Now we're back in Berkeley, pet-sitting for Frances and Chris while they are away in Ireland. Our family comprises of Rua the cat, and Leda and Hera the chickens. Daniel is attempting to make a lap cat out of Rua, which seems to working. He has in any case figured out where we live and that if he miauws at our door long enough he will get fed in the morning, or get attention in the evening. One of our cats does that at home, so it's almost comforting. Almost. The chickens (or the ladies as everyone calls them) are absolutely the most entertaining animals I have ever seen. I could watch them all day. It's also really neat to eat eggs that come from chickens you know personally. Going to look and see if they have laid makes me feel like a kid again, it's exciting. They lay a lot- Daniel worked out that they lay around 10 eggs a week! That's a lotta egg for two people. We have started bringing them to people's houses as gifts now.

It's hard to believe our last month here has started.

Tsunami

Photo of the tsunami reaching the San Francisco bay on 3/11/11. Photo: Steven Winter

Just a short message for all you out there being worried about our lives! Yes we did have a Tsunami here in california as well, we did see it but it was nothing but a great nice wave! Surf's up Dude!

Blizzard!

Having clambered through Arches National Park (wow) and Canyonlands NP (wow wow) in breathtakingly gorgeous weather we were starting to get cocky. Jupiter, Thor, Mother Nature- they were all on our side, clearing the skies and allowing for sunny, albeit chilly weather. We scampered around in our sweatshirts, admiring some of Utah's most gorgeous sights and sounds, climbing up into stone arches formed by millions of years of erosion and wandering canyon rims peering into vast landscapes of unearthly shapes and colors. So when we left our nifty little motel in Moab, espresso goodness in our spoiled little hands, and headed up into the mountains over Capitol Reef NP, we were expecting the beautiful drive into Bryce Canyon NP the Lonely Planet (LP) had described on Highway 12.

Capitol Reef was an added bonus as far as driving scenery was concerned, as we were dwarfed by huge sandstone cliffs on small roads winding through. It had started raining slightly at this point, but this did nothing but enliven what we were driving past- the desert and its counterparts tend to become even more intense when wet. By the time we hit Dixie National Forest, it had started to sleet, and then finally, snow. The scenery changed dramatically from wet but visible earth to a white blanket with dainty little snowflakes flouncing around. I suppose at this point it would be fair to mention that I had expressed a small desire to see snow that very morning, and so when it started falling I initially got really excited (Daniel seceretly did too). The inner children in us, oh-so-hard-to-find, ahem, forced us out of the car numerous times to play around in the snow and pelt each other and other things with snowballs, so much fun! We climbed and climbed up into the mountains, hardly noticing the slightly menacing color the sky was starting to turn in our rearview mirror. Up and up, and the roads were getting whiter and whiter. The snowdrifts and piles on the side of the road were starting to become higher than us, and it was starting to snow more heavily. Not another soul was on the road, but in Utah that doesn't necessarily mean anything. When we did see another car we decided to stop it and ask for advice on driving in the weather- we are but Dutchies, used to driving on flat, well-salted roads after all, and had no snow chains. The guy told us that as long as we didn't slip, we would be OK. By 9000 ft. (2750 m), our visibility was down to about half a meter, the roads were covered in icy snow and we were slipping like nobody's business. After a long think, we decided to head back- we had no idea how far away the town we were headed for was, and it was even higher so the chances of more snow were certain. A bit of a hairy drive later, we arrived back in the town (that would be street), and stopped to ask for advice and directions in a gas station. Turns out we made the right decision- there was a big storm heading over the pass we had tried to take, and it was even making the interstates hard to use as we later found out. So we ended up staying in Utah's most stunning shithole, Beaver, and watched as the snow came down mercilessly, hoping we weren't going to have to stay there. By the next morning it was back to blue skies and sun, and the icicles were melting off of the car as we pondered our next move. We ended up driving to Zion, which we saw in a meter of snow and ice in the North, and then in beaming spring sun and warmth in the South. This place makes no sense.