Post-Trip Bombardment

Due to popular demand, I, who have as of 5 minutes ago never written in this blog, have managed to scan all the drawings I made on the trip, and therefore will now share them. If I can figure this out…

Natural Bridge, VA

Diana, Biltmore

Lakeside Cafe, AK

Arkansas border

El Alamo, San Antonio

Mission Concepcion

Hamilton Pool

Hamilton Pool

Grand Canyon (brownie points to whoever finds El)

Grand Canyon, Overlook

Grand Canyon, Bright Angel Point

KOA kampground, CO

Balcony House, North Plaza

Balcony House, South Plaza

Landscape Arch

Double 'O' Arch

Doublt 'O' Arch, looking north

July 26 and 27 – The End of Texas (and a run for the border)

Not wanting to disappoint us with their reputation, the RV was not ready until 2pm in the afternoon. Nothing of interest happened in the morning. I finished Dad’s Christmas ’07 scarf. He did not want to wear it, as the temperature measured 94 degrees.

After noon we were gently kicked out of our motel room, and so we went and sat in the shop, subtly pressuring the mechanics.

Finally, we left. We stopped in some town around 6:30 to get two tires replaced on the right rear axle. The only place open at 6:30 on a Saturday is the Wal-Mart supercenter. We drove on into the night. Around 9, dad went to sleep. At 9:30, I followed suit. We drove on route 84 to route 320, heading for Roswell, New Mexico.

There aren’t any pictures for this section, because it was dark. Very dark. Astoundingly dark. Even pictures of how dark it was wouldn’t convey how overwhelmingly dark it was. We could see thunderstorms in the distance: huge clouds lit up from the inside by their lightning.

At 3:05am, we reached New Mexico.

I woke up and sat co-pilot for mom, who had been driving since about we left Wal-Mart at 8.

Then I drove for a bit.

We reached Roswell around 4:30, which was actually 3:30 because we had reached Mountain Time (I have long stopped wearing my watch). I didn’t see any aliens.

We lost about half an hour in Roswell first trying to find a gas station, and then at the gas station. I got coffee.

I drove for a while longer, and then dad drove and I sat shotgun. Then we switched it around again, and I went to sleep, and the sun came up.

We reached Santa Fe at 7:01am, MST, and had breakfast.

We were worried, it being Sunday, that things would be closed (the yarn store certainly was), but we were fortunate enough to have arrived on the second day of the Hispanic Arts Festival. We wandered around and ate another breakfast of carnitas and breakfast burritos. Delicious.

We strolled through the fair for a few hours, and then went off to the Georgia O’Keeffe museum.

Then we went “home” for a nap (driving all night will require that), and then dad and I went to find internet at a cafe, and eat chips.

We split up after, and I wandered around and found another small market in the yard of a church.

Then mom and I went to find the “oldest house,” which was a simple, old, adobe house just… sitting there. Just chillin’. Nothing special. Very cool.

By 4, we were on the road again, headed for Arizona.

It got flat very quickly.

Sunday, July 20, 2008 (Tom)

Sunday, July 20, 2008

We have had a series of pleasant, yet eventless days, here in the land of the lotus-eaters, where each day is much like the one before, and prospects for tomorrow are not much different than today.

I am exaggerating, of course, but staying in motel rooms is not half as much fun as roving the country like gypsies so the ennui is palpable around here, despite specific activities each day to keep ourselves entertained.

Friday was travel day, as we left Austin and went first, back to Rockdale to scavenge the Cacafuego for gear and clothing that we had been missing during our first hiatus in Austin. We drove from there to San Antonio, and along the way we saw a roadrunner and longhorn cattle, neither of which we managed to photograph, and we stopped for lunch at Sonic, which is an old-fashioned car-window fast food place that, apparently, everybody in the country takes for granted except us easterners. We also stopped at a farmer’s market and bought hand crafted goat cheese from a toothless old texan in a straw stetson hat.

Our hotel in San Antonio was a bit of a dive, in the shadow of the interstate, but the price was right, and we were only about ten block out from the downtown tourist district, so we could walk back and forth and get our exercise with only the occassional detour around a wino or two on the way. The Alamo is downtown, surrounded by gift shops and office buildings, much like Liberty Hall in Philadelphia, of Graceland in Memphis, and it is oddly unnerving to stand and contemplate the solemn history of the place with neon and chaser lights behind your back. There is a plaza there, with great gobs of human activity surging back and forth, including kids with plastic light sabers and sombreros, as well as belligerent street preachers and two, or maybe even three, arch-rival ghost tours who would, I think, gladly make of each other fodder for next season’s spiel.

And, it was HOT. Siesta time is a serious business when the sun burns down over a hundred degrees from two to five pm. We didn’t notice if all of San Antonio shuts down for siesta, but we certainly did. In the hotel with curtains drawn, naps being optional, and then out again after six pm. The first night we visited the Alamo, then dined on the Riverwalk, which is a long maze of meandering walks along the canals and channels of the San Antonio River as is cuts through downtown, lined with restaurants and cafe tables, and with tour boats and dinner boats plying trade up and down the waterways. It is pretty, but the food was tourist grade, much as we expected.

My class at ACA

On Saturday, I got up and made my escape to Alamo City Aikido, the local ASU dojo, in the hopes of a little exercise and a change of pace, since I haven’t been training much at all this year, and it is about time I got back into it. I had packed by aikido gear for just such an unlikely eventuality, that I would find myself in a town with a dojo, and with time on my hands, and it turned out that the family could do without me for a few hours after all. The local sensei was an alum of the Washington DC dojo, so he knew my teachers, and told me that I was welcome to visit, but he would not be there, and that he suspected I would outrank any of his local students and would I mind teaching class? I ended up doing just that, which was a little uncomfortable for me since I felt out of shape, but we all had fun, I guess, and they bought me lunch.

Stephen Spielberg works with Angelina Jolie on her characterization of the title role in THE SOPHIA LOREN STORY

Ann and the girls were out touring the Alamo interior and getting lunch, so we all rendezvoused for siesta and a swim under the freeway, then went out for the evening to first tour some of the other old missions, then dinner (away from the Riverwalk), then a ghost tour from one of the snipey, fractuous, and frankly-creepy-wouldn’t-feel-comfortable-passing-him-on-the-sidewalk tour guides. They passed out infra-red thermo-meters (laser pointers), magnetic field detectors (stud finders), and dowsing rods (bent coat hangers on a spool) and tramped us around downtown pointing them at things and listening to stories about the old spanish garrisons and vigilantes and such. It was mildly amusing and moderately irritating at the same time, but it gave us something to do.

Lunch in Boerne (Bear Moon Cafe)

This morning we shook the dust of that town from our car tires and had another travel day, this time to the Texas Hill Country, which is much like the Texas flatlands, only hillier. We spent a pleasant hour or two in the crafts and antiques town of Boerne, and had luch at the local coffeehouse, with a homey character and a sophisticated menu. I had Yucatan chicken and lime soup, as an example, and I hope to recreate the recipe someday.

Now we are in Fredericksburg, another lovely town of arts, cafes and wineries. I had small tastings at two wineries this afternoon, within two blocks of each other, and there are at least three more further down Main Street to hit tomorrow. The German heritage of the place apparently is responsible for the town policy of encouraging open containers of beer and wine on the sidewalks,which is, in my opinion a very civilized way to live, at least until someone puts an eye out, or something.

Dinner this evening was crackers and toothless texan goat cheese, with a jar of local jalapeno jelly for counterpoint, with bananas and Nutella for dessert, enjoyed in the comfort of the Super 8 Motel. We are all content with a quiet evening tonight.

July 17 – another day in Austin

In the morning, we ate cereal in the hotel room and set out to see what we could find to entertain us. Our first goal was Barton Springs in Zilker Park, but we took a detour along the way to visit the Umlauf Sculpture Garden. From the website: Charles Umlauf, a prolific and internationally known sculptor, created works ranging in style from realistic and abstract expressionism to lyrical abstraction during his career. In 1985 he and his wife, Angeline Allen Umlauf, gave their home and studio with sculptures, drawings and paintings to the Umlauf Sculpture Garden and Museum.

Then we proceeded to Barton Springs, where we discovered that the amazing, natural pool fed by spring water was in fact closed on Thursdays from 9am to 7pm for cleaning.

So I took a picture of this squirrel as we pondered our next move.

We decided to ride the ‘Dillo around town. It was a fun, air conditioned, free way to see more of the city than we would on foot, and it gave us time to get hungry for lunch.

Which we ate at Flip Happy Crepes near where we had parked. The best thing about Austin is the outdoor society. It’s warm enough year round that these little Air Stream food stands can exist happily, at least from spring to late fall. In Seattle, or Portland, or Baltimore, this would be impossible (too rainy, too humid, respectively). But in Austin, it’s perfect.

We ordered our crepes and sat at a table under a bright red awning, with a local, Josh, who told us all the best places to eat and/or listen to music.

Also he agreed to hold the sock.

After lunch, we got sno balls and we headed back east and south to Lamar Street to hit up some bead stores and a spa. I bought beads for the tunic, and mom bought beads for lots of things (see mom’s Austin post).

Sarah had a blueberry sno ball.

Then we had to kill time before Barton Springs would be open, so mom and Sarah went back to the hotel, and dad and I strolled down 6th Avenue, which had a few weird antique stores and some higher end clothing stores, but nothing as interesting as SoCo.

Around 5:45, dad and I started to make our way back to Barton Springs. We rode the ‘Dillo for part of it, and stopped for an iced coffee (me) and a beer (him), and arrived at Zilker Park just shy of seven.

Barton Springs is a natural pool formed by two springs. Now the stream is diverted around the pool so the pool stays fresh from the spring and joins the stream at the downstream end.

We swam for about an hour. It was cold, and the bottom was slippery with moss and algae, and it wasn’t at all like the ocean. It was a good time.

The dressing rooms: reminiscent of a bygone era.

Then we made our way to the Alamo Drafthouse Theater for Wall-E. The movie was good, but the theater was the real attraction, it turned out. They played old Pixar shorts before the movie, lots of them, and they served food and drinks in our seats! It was like a tiny restaurant inside a movie theater.

I was amused.

July 16 – Austin is cool.

In the morning, we heard some more news about the Cacafuego. She had radiator and coolant system damage, but they needed to see if she had any engine damage, and she would be in the shop for a couple of days at least. So we rented a car with the intention of driving to Austin for a night or two.

The Enterprise station was located in Taylor, TX, 27 miles from Rockdale, and at that distance they no longer “pick you up,” because gas is too goddamn expensive. So mom set out on her moped for an epic 27 mile ride into Taylor to go get the car. When she arrived in Taylor, however, she discovered that the car wasn’t going to be there until noon, and it being approximately eleven, she had some time to kill.

Also apparently in Texas, if it has a motor you need to be licensed to drive it. Also you’re not allowed to park on the sidewalks, regardless of pedestrian-to-sidewalk ratio. And that cop was pretty cranky anyway.

Dad, Sarah and I checked out of the motel at 10:30 (and by “checked out” I mean “handed the key card to one of the owners as she passed in her housekeeping duties”) and walked along the highway, loaded with our laundry bags of (clean!) clothes to the restaurant at the Best Western next door.

We ate a little, but mostly just sat for almost two hours, and no one really minded. I even finished sock #1.

But finally, finally, mom came back with the car, and we drove to Austin, where we found first a ridiculous spread of malls and chain stores before we hit real downtown Austin. Imagine I-83 from Timonium to the city, but entirely surrounded by strip malls and Wal-Marts and hundreds of Best Buys.

Oh and I forgot about this scorpion that jumped on Sarah while we were loading the car with things from the camper that we’d need for a few days:

Anyway, downtown and south-side Austin were really very nice. We crossed the river into the cool and interesting south-side and found a cafe—Flipnotics (link)—where we had well deserved iced coffees and wifi. Apparently the whole city of Austin (area limited, probably only the cool section) has wifi, so we were able to pick it up most everywhere.

My goal for the day was Hill County Weavers, which we found very easily in the awesome part of South Congress Street. I shopped happily for yarn (they had a LOT of yarn, rooms and rooms full to the top) and then we proceeded on to shop and stroll northwards on South Congress. There were plenty of fun stores to look in.

The south side of town is the funky, weird, hip, college-tinted side of town. It feels a bit like Portland, or San Francisco, or Philadelphia, with its college students and it’s anything-goes attitude towards fashion. It was fun. There were lots of stores to play in.

We had dinner at Guero’s, which was delicious and satisfyingly tex-mex. I convinced the waitress to take a picture with the (second) sock, which she enjoyed, I’m sure.

Then we set off towards the river, to watch the bats come out.

Austin, Texas, hosts the largest urban colony of bats in the world. The bats live underneath the Congress Street bridge, and come out every night to hunt. They are Mexican free-tailed bats. They are quite cool. And squeaky, as you might expect bats to be. We could hear them chittering for at least half an hour before they began to emerge at sunset.

Also I taught Sarah how to knit, and started her on a hat with yarn and needles obtained at Hill Country Weavers.

And so we ended our day by driving quite near forever out to our hotel, got lost, and finally made it at 10:30.

July 15 – Rusk to Rockdale (the first in the Don’t Mess With Texas series)

Yes, yes, I know I’m a bit behind– but it’s all the picture uploading and the organizing that I have to do that is such a toll on my delicate sensibilities… or something.

We left the campground at Rusk about 9 in the morning. The campground was nice—it was pretty, it was not crowded, it had a cute little picnic and play area and potential swimming area, although why one would want to swim there unsupervised among the lilypads, exactly, I’m not sure. But it was very pretty.

Almost as soon as we left Rusk we experienced the climate change. It lost its tropical rain forest humid feel and became hot and dry and flat.

We drove and drove until lunchtime, when we stopped at a grocery store to grab some snacks and tried to find a picnic area near the Brazos River outside of Hearne, Texas. At first we stopped just after crossing the river at a historical marker, but all we found there was a shot-up stone marker and some kind of neat brown lizard.

So we reconsidered and drove a little farther to a real picnic spot.

After lunch, we piled back into the camper and drove a little farther, whereupon we experienced our first setback of the day. After only a few miles, a belt had broken. Mom and dad worked to repair it, and we moved on, only to be stopped again less than five hundred yards from where we started by the radiator boiling over and spewing coolant everywhere. The Engineer’s Log of July 16 has the specifics, if you’re desperate to read them again.

At any rate, we moved the whole event to the Chevy dealer in Rockdale, TX, where we spent the night at a Regency Inn and tried to figure out what to do with the Cacafuego. We were instructed in no certain terms that we were not allowed to “make nasty” in the motel room, which we sort of imagine means we are not allowed to have loud drunken sex parties. I think. There were no loud drunken sex parties, at any rate, and instead we ate Chinese food for dinner and watched something on HBO.

Engineer’s Log 7-17

July 17, Austin, TX

 

We have had a charming day in Austin, found the cool and funky part of town on South Congress, and spent the night in the definitely Unfunky (but inexpensive) Extended Day Suites about 15 miles on the north side of town in superhighway and supermall hell.

 

I spoke to the mechanic this morning, and he confirmed our fears, that the Cacafuego’s engine has probably suffered terminal damage. The compression on the left cylinders is at about half capacity, while the right side reads fine, which, even to a layman such as myself, indicates that there is a pressure leak on that side of the engine block or head. We could have the cylinder head removed and tuned and planed for a particular sum of money, which does not guarantee that the block or the pistons, or the rings aren’t screwed as well, or for somewhat less than double that amount, we could have a used engine from the local auto recycler (read “junk yard”), which comes with a 90 day warrantee, put in it’s place, OR, for even more money, we could install a freshly rebuilt engine with a GM certification, OR, we could junk the scarey son-of-a-bitch and buy a cargo van and a trailer.

 

We held a family conference this morning, and, much to my surprise, everybody expressed too much affection for the old goat, and the adventure as a whole, to contemplate throwing in the towel on her, so we elected the middle road choice of putting in a junkyard engine, provided that the warrantee has any real meaning once we leave town. I have not heard back from the mechanic on that score, he was going to get a copy faxed to his office and let me know what he thought of it. In the meantime, we have extended our car rental, and are looking for a better hotel, or at least a more convenient location, and expect to spend the next week touring around the Austin/San Antonio area. We had lunch at an outdoor creperie in a park, and talked with a charming young man at our picnic table about the local attractions, so we are set for a few days of local interest, at least. When the Cacafuego is serviceable again, we will hightail it out of town and try to catch up to whatever amounts to a schedule, meaning making it to the Grand Canyon in time for our reservations on the 26th and 27th. If we don’t make those dates, well, flexibility remains the watchword.

Engineer’s Log 7-16-08

July 16, Rockdale, Texas

 

The Cacafuego is down, and maybe for the count. We broke a belt after a picnic lunch at a rest stop west of the Brazos River, and, although Ann and I changed it, the time spent with the water pump not moving must have done some damage. The engine started rough, and a quarter mile down the road a rattling began. I pulled off the road, and immediately the cooling system exploded spewing radiator fluid all over and generating a huge cloud of steam. I thought we had an engine fire. So did a passing driver, who called 911, and shortly we had a helpful samaritan and a sherriff’s deputy on hand to help us decide what to do. 

 

The deputy called for a wrecker, and we towed the vehicle several miles into town, and left it at the Chevy dealership. We were quite lucky to be that close to civilization. We spent the night in a hotel, and Ann has gone on her moped into Taylor, the next town 30 miles up the road, to get us a rental car so we can go into Austin and settle in for a couple of days while the Chevy people figure out what to do. I spoke to them already this morning, and it was being looked over at the time, so we should have an analysis fairly soon. It needs a new radiator, and is leaking oil somewhere, but there is also the rough engine bit, which is the most worrysome. We may be home sooner than we thought.