Back in the City by the Bay

The final stop of the trip was at one of our favorite spots in California, Chet & Marty's cabin in Meek's Bay. Driving up over the pass into South Lake Tahoe, the reality of our "summer" road trip coming to an end began to set in as the first snowfall of winter blanketed the road. We raced towards Emerald Bay and were happy to see that Caltrans hadn't declared highway 89 impassable yet. We arrived at sunset and the cabin was just as perfect as it always is. The dog nestled into the fresh snow outside and we torched a huge fire in the stone fireplace. We put our feet up and relaxed as warmth overtook the cozy little log cabin.

After an amazing final weekend, we packed up and hit the road one last time. Interstate 80 proved to be an immediate challenge as we were not used to so many cars--all driving like they had somewhere to be yesterday. We zig-zagged through traffic until the sweet smell of bay air filled the van. We got our first view of the San Francisco skyline and our conversation dwindled as we headed over the bay bridge with big smiles on our faces. We were finally home after 102 days and over 17,000 miles on the road.

Excited to be home, we took Sierra to his favorite place on earth, Crissy Field, and let him romp through the giant grassy knoll. Then, we made way to the Mission for dinner at La Taqueria, SF's finest taco-slinging establishment. With bellies full of sweet Mexican goodness, we made rounds through the city saying hello to friends and family that we hadn't seen in months. The wine and conversation lasted until the early morning and we quickly found ourselves too tired to unpack our gear. This proved to be the wrong decision as we woke up the next morning to our side window broken and the van ransacked. The thieves had a field day with Eeyore and filled their pockets with most everything that we had learned to live with for the last three and a half months.

Lesson learned = car thieves are dicks!

Hot to Cold in a Hurry

We arrived to Joshua Tree National Park at sundown and were shocked to find the place so empty. After fighting the crowds at some of the country’s most popular parks, we simply couldn't believe that there was only one other group in the entire campground. To give you an idea how few people were there, when Brooks got up to take his 4am leak, he didn’t even bother putting clothes on. Standing outside, stark naked, he proceeded to wake Nathalie up just so she knew that he was naked inside a national park and there wasn’t anything that anyone could do about it.

The following morning the crowds were still absent and we took advantage of it by giving Sierra the green light to come and hike the trails with us. We're pretty sure he wasn't aloud, but it was better than coming back to a baked dog. Either way, we all got to enjoy trolling the teddy bear cholla garden and walking under the parks famed giant yuccas. As quickly as we arrived, we departed and made way up the eastern side of the Sierras, over Tioga Pass, and down into the Yosemite Valley.

Our time in Yosemite started off with a bang (literally) as a 6:40am rockfall rumbled the valley and squashed a handful of cabins in Curry Village. The ground shook Eeyore's wheels and the sound waves caused the tent walls to flutter. It was an incredible thunder that lasted for two minutes and guaranteed everyone was awake. As a result, Curry Village closed for the day and sent many hikers out in their pajamas.

We hiked the entire valley floor from Bridal Veil falls to Mirror Lake, a 15-mile loop that we decided, for some reason, to do without water. We couldn't help but lick our lips as Sierra slurped gallon after gallon out of the Merced River. We peaked over Glacier Point and then watched many climbers scramble up the face of El Capitan as we relaxed in the meadow below. Spending three cold nights in the park proved to be the perfect remedy to bring the dog back to life after panting in the dry desert heat.

Spoiled Rotten in Phoenix

Lucky for the whole family (especially the dog), the weather gods cooperated and Phoenix was a frigid 85 instead of the 100+ that it’s capable of this time of year. We spent the weekend swilling fine wine and eating great food in the good company of Suzy (Brooks’ aunt) and Judy (Nat’s sister’s mother-in-law). It was a small miracle that the two of them didn’t convince us to live out the winter months in the desert. We had a fantastic time there and forgot all about living in a van until we crossed the border into California and that reality quickly settled back in…

Raising Arizona

After an eventful family gathering in Zion, we bid farewell to Ale and Dad and pulled out the maps to chart out our next stop. To our delight, our GPS coordinates put us just north of Grand Central Polygamyville, the towns of Hilldale and Colorado City. Warren Jeffs put these two interesting communities and their “religious” beliefs on everyone’s radar with his arrest back in 2006. We had hoped to give Sierra the opportunity to live out his golden years with nine wives, but couldn’t find him a polygamous dog that had wandered outside any of the walled compounds to start his harem. A little disappointed, we settled for lunch at the Merry Wives Café and a few solid afternoon hours of some amazing people watching.

We drown most of the daylight hours idling the dusty streets at the Utah/Arizona border and feeling oddly out of place. However, we did make it to the north rim of the Grand Canyon just as the sun was settling on the horizon. At 9000 feet, the alpine forest was thick, the air was cool and the views down into that giant hole were spectacular. The following night, after a 200 mile drive, we camped just 10 miles away (as the crow flies) on the south rim.

With a couple route options south of the Grand Canyon, we were easily lured towards Sedona as Judy (Nathalie’s sister’s mother-in-law) offered us a night in her creek-side cabin. Winding down Oak Creek Canyon towards Sedona, we quickly fell in love with the place that was recently voted (by Conde Nast) the most beautiful place in America.

Once in town, we stopped at a tourist booth for directions and left with reservations to attend a time-share lecture. Not exactly what we were looking to do, but once we figured out what the guy was talking about, it was too late and he had already signed us up. Luckily, we were able to turn down the hard sell and left our lecture with a wad of cash for wasting everyone’s time. Instead of saving our new-found wealth for gas, we immediately headed for the nicest restaurant in Sedona (L’Auberge) and blew our wad (and then some!) on an incredible meal that will never be ousted from our lifetime’s top ten list.

Along the Utah National Park Highway

Leaving Arches, we drove a stretch of road that would treat us to five National Parks in less than six hundred miles. First up was the needles district of Canyonlands. The short detour off highway 191 into the park turned out to be a long one. The endless canyon was out of this world, but a long series of cattle guards and an extra long wait for some road work to be completed in the hot afternoon sun broke Sierra. He officially lost his marbles and wanted nothing to do with the van as he paced back and forth like a caged animal. Nathalie gave up her front seat and we tried many new arrangements to ease his anxious mind. None seemed to work.

Fortunately, we found a sweet campsite in Glen Canyon, just above the Colorado River and Sierra made it until morning as he relaxed in the dirt and stained his white pelt brick red. He rebounded slightly the next day, but we didn't want to test his fragile state by sightseeing too much in Capitol Reef National Park.

We continued on to Bryce Canyon and managed to do some short hikes into the bowels of the canyon under the famous Thor's Hammer. Bryce's amphitheater of awkwardly sculptured rock spires, or hoodoos, radiate warm yellows and oranges at all hours. It was impressive to see such a drastic change in the landscape after traveling such a short distance.

Last, but not least, we made it to Zion and were greeted by Brooks' dad and sister. It was great to see family and to have them experience life in the van. They gave us a taste of the high life that we left back in the bay area three months ago. We ate and drank like kings and queens and worked off our full bellies each day on Zion's network of trails. The highlight was was slogging back into the narrows. Hiking up the river the canyon walls are 2000 feet high, but in places only 18 feet apart.

Red Rock Playground

Through the center of the Mormon universe, Salt Lake City, we made our way east again to Arches National Park. With one campground inside the park and only 24 total first-come/first-serve sites, Brooks was in line at 4am to secure a spot in the Devil’s Garden. The early morning wake-up call proved to be one of the best choices we’ve made on our trip. Not only did we meet half the campground in line, but we also got the opportunity to pitch our tent amongst the red rock and under the brightest stars imaginable.

Arches might have just set the new standard for National Parks? It’s a photographer’s paradise. At any time of any day you can swivel your head in any direction and see something uniquely beautiful. We hit the famous Delicate Arch for sunset and watched the classic cowboy chaps glow a golden red in the low sun. We watched the sun rise at the Landscape Arch and wondered how its slender long arch has defied gravity for so long.

Ironically, we hiked through the Fiery Furnace at mid-day to avoid the hot afternoon sun. It’s a trail-less maze of towering sandstone needles where the giant red walls close in over your head. We crawled and squeezed through cracks less than 12 inches wide that opened up entirely new labyrinths to explore on the other side. Curiosity lured us deeper into the furnace as you always wanted to know what lay behind the next turn.

We had an amazing time in the Moab area. We hiked our hearts content and Hairy relaxed in Karen's Canine Campground. He played so hard with his new best friend, a one year old border collie, that we had to pry him out of his air conditioned cabin when we picked him up. Our final night in Arches, he slept from 8pm until 10am without even readjusting his position

An Hour in Idaho

Trying to outrun the storm that was crashing down on Jackson Hole, we hit Highway 89 and made way for Utah. The silver dollar-sized rain drops stopped and we poked out ahead of the rain clouds at Bear Lake, the part of Idaho that turns into Utah in the blink of the eye. This lakeside cottage almost crumbled as the sun-soaked cloud exploded with color behind it.