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Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Monday, August 4, 2014
Well, it has been a while. So let me catch you all up. After leaving the lovely company of my fellow PCV's in Santee, CA. I rented a car, got some ride share folks to split gas with me and headed for Albuquerque, NM where I dropped off the car at the airport and was picked up by one of my favorite Germans, Sven Vogel. Sven was my boss the last time I was in Los Alamos and was about to become my boss, in a manner of speaking, again. His 8 year old son, Noah, and I were about to be come bosom buddies as Sven was taking me to Germany with him and Noah so that I could look babysit while Sven attended conferences, meetings and other such things. But first, I had to hitch a ride up to Denver where me and my PCV pals were planning to have a fantastic 4th of July celebration and one year reunion.
I found a ride share on craigslist and was able to make my way north without too much trouble. Then, I partied down in a huge cabin out in the mountains about an hour from Denver with my PCV's. Whiskey, beer, brauts, memories, hugs and laughter were had by all, but especially me :) Two excellent days and nights were spend in the woods and then we parted ways. Someone was kind enough to give me a lift to the airport where I hopped on my plane to Deutchland!
I touched down in Frankfurt and immediately got on the train to Frieburg where I was able to finally rejoin Sven and Noah. We spent and few days with Sven's mom and then we were off again. I would have to look again at my notes to see exactly what order we went, but the list includes Berlin, Frankfurt, Roestock (to see some friends I met in Uganda: Peter, Blanca and Lutcia) and a few others. Again, I will have to look back in my notes to see all the places. In each one, Noah and I went to the pool, parks and museums. I especially like the technology museum and Noah really enjoyed the computer and video game museums.
While in Frieburg I also got to see my SLS classmate, Tobias. It turns out he is working on his PhD in history at the university in Frieburg. We had a rather fantastic evening together at his fraternity house. We engaged in several beer battles and while I lost nearly all of them, I still had an excellent time!
My excellent German adventure as an au pair came to a close as did July and I was back on a airplane to ABQ. From there a friend picked me up and took me to Sven's house once more. Not only did Sven pay for all my travel and accommodation in Germany, but he also let me take his "scooter" for a road trip during all of August. Sven is a motorcycle enthusiast and has a behemoth chopper which he enjoys taking on tours around the southwest. He also has a "scooter" for his wife which is a Harley Sportster. This is what I was allowed to borrow for a whole month since his wife doesn't ride anymore.
With a full suite of borrowed gear from a rugby friend in Santa Fe I mounted my steed and headed south just as a tremendous storm opened up on me. I was miserable. It was late and I was freezing. The rain was to torrential that I had to stop somewhere and that somewhere just happened to be ABQ international airport. So I found and empty couch and still in my full gear, streached out and tried to rest and dry while I waited for the rain to subside.
Four hours later, the rain was mostly done and there was only a little lightning so I remounted the bike and began the overnight journey down to El Paso for my first stop. The purpose of the trip was to visit as many of my SLS classmates as possible. The first being Brendan Flanagan. But, in my haste to make up lost time from the storm, I did not plan well and around 8 am as I was just 60 miles from El Paso I ran out of gas. After two hours of pushing someone finally pulled over and let me use their phone. Fortunately Brendan answered and came to rescue me with a few gallons of gas. But this all cost me the night I had hoped to stay with him. So we sat an shot the breeze at his apartment for a while and then I had to once again hit the road.
That was pretty much the theme, though I always carried an extra bottle of gas with me after that, for the rest of the trip. Drive all day, stay with a classmate for a night and hit the road again. My visits were many and my days were few, so I only got to say "howdy" and "adios" for most of the time. From El Paso it was off to San Antonio, Austin, Dallas, New Orleans, then Alabama, VA, Baltimore, New York, Ohio, Indiana, Wisconsin, Chicago, Indianapolis, St. Louis, a small town in Missouri, then all the way back to New Mexico to return the scooter and jump on my flight back to China. I think there were more stops in there, but I can't remember off the top of my head. This really should have been a dozen blog posts, but on account of procrastination they have been condensed down to one.
Oh, and I had a decent layover in San Francisco so I stopped by the Apple campus where I had a beer with a good friend from Rose, Buddy Meyer. He even was kind enough to not only buy me lunch but also give me his old iphone which I am still using now.
Up next, my cycling trips across China.
I found a ride share on craigslist and was able to make my way north without too much trouble. Then, I partied down in a huge cabin out in the mountains about an hour from Denver with my PCV's. Whiskey, beer, brauts, memories, hugs and laughter were had by all, but especially me :) Two excellent days and nights were spend in the woods and then we parted ways. Someone was kind enough to give me a lift to the airport where I hopped on my plane to Deutchland!
I touched down in Frankfurt and immediately got on the train to Frieburg where I was able to finally rejoin Sven and Noah. We spent and few days with Sven's mom and then we were off again. I would have to look again at my notes to see exactly what order we went, but the list includes Berlin, Frankfurt, Roestock (to see some friends I met in Uganda: Peter, Blanca and Lutcia) and a few others. Again, I will have to look back in my notes to see all the places. In each one, Noah and I went to the pool, parks and museums. I especially like the technology museum and Noah really enjoyed the computer and video game museums.
While in Frieburg I also got to see my SLS classmate, Tobias. It turns out he is working on his PhD in history at the university in Frieburg. We had a rather fantastic evening together at his fraternity house. We engaged in several beer battles and while I lost nearly all of them, I still had an excellent time!
My excellent German adventure as an au pair came to a close as did July and I was back on a airplane to ABQ. From there a friend picked me up and took me to Sven's house once more. Not only did Sven pay for all my travel and accommodation in Germany, but he also let me take his "scooter" for a road trip during all of August. Sven is a motorcycle enthusiast and has a behemoth chopper which he enjoys taking on tours around the southwest. He also has a "scooter" for his wife which is a Harley Sportster. This is what I was allowed to borrow for a whole month since his wife doesn't ride anymore.
With a full suite of borrowed gear from a rugby friend in Santa Fe I mounted my steed and headed south just as a tremendous storm opened up on me. I was miserable. It was late and I was freezing. The rain was to torrential that I had to stop somewhere and that somewhere just happened to be ABQ international airport. So I found and empty couch and still in my full gear, streached out and tried to rest and dry while I waited for the rain to subside.
Four hours later, the rain was mostly done and there was only a little lightning so I remounted the bike and began the overnight journey down to El Paso for my first stop. The purpose of the trip was to visit as many of my SLS classmates as possible. The first being Brendan Flanagan. But, in my haste to make up lost time from the storm, I did not plan well and around 8 am as I was just 60 miles from El Paso I ran out of gas. After two hours of pushing someone finally pulled over and let me use their phone. Fortunately Brendan answered and came to rescue me with a few gallons of gas. But this all cost me the night I had hoped to stay with him. So we sat an shot the breeze at his apartment for a while and then I had to once again hit the road.
That was pretty much the theme, though I always carried an extra bottle of gas with me after that, for the rest of the trip. Drive all day, stay with a classmate for a night and hit the road again. My visits were many and my days were few, so I only got to say "howdy" and "adios" for most of the time. From El Paso it was off to San Antonio, Austin, Dallas, New Orleans, then Alabama, VA, Baltimore, New York, Ohio, Indiana, Wisconsin, Chicago, Indianapolis, St. Louis, a small town in Missouri, then all the way back to New Mexico to return the scooter and jump on my flight back to China. I think there were more stops in there, but I can't remember off the top of my head. This really should have been a dozen blog posts, but on account of procrastination they have been condensed down to one.
Oh, and I had a decent layover in San Francisco so I stopped by the Apple campus where I had a beer with a good friend from Rose, Buddy Meyer. He even was kind enough to not only buy me lunch but also give me his old iphone which I am still using now.
Up next, my cycling trips across China.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Sold! Now, on to Santeeeeeeee!
The next day or so was pretty much spent relaxing and catching up with Papp and Grant. Then, while I'm there, I find out that Jake will soon becoming to LA for work. So I try to convince him to talk to his boss and see if he can come to LA a day early. Long story short, he can and he does. Then we pretty much repeat what we've been doing for the last day: beer, pizza, beer, sleep. Its a good recovery routine :)
So, not only did I get to relive a successful college weekend with Jake, but he also offers to buy my hand trike right on the spot. So we spend the better part of Monday morning disassembling it and packing it up. Head down to USPS and off it goes, back to Jake's place in Illinois. We owe a big thanks to Papp for hauling us around from place to place while we get our little ducks in a row. After a long lunch at Pho 21, Jake and I part from Papp's excellent company and head for his hotel room. We get Jake checked in, I look up a few things on the computer and then I'm off to Arcadia!!
Part of my purpose for this long and round about way of traveling is to visit my SLS brethren. Partly because I haven't seen some of them since graduation, and partly because next year will be our 10 year reunion and I wanted to talk to each member of our class individually to see what, when, and how we should make this shindig happen. I was more than a little slow in gathering up all that information for our five year reunion and I definitely don't want to repeat that mistake, so this time around I'm getting a very early start. And in Pasadena there lives a good man by the Name of Chris Cariaga and he graciously invited me to stay with him and his uncle for a night. With a non-trivial miracle and lots of questions, I was able to navigate LA public transit is a mere 3 hours to find myself at Chris' door. There we spent a few hours catching up on what we've been up to, what the immediate future might contain and what the farther future might be. I also got his feedback on what our 10 year reunion ought to be.
With our minds and hearts full from one another's company and conversation, we decided to balance out our bodies by filling our stomachs as well. That is when we went for Pink's. This historic establishment in LA proper is a hotdog stand to compare to no other. The list of nitrated, hand held, chili smothered meat dishes was staggering. Only slightly less staggering than the line we had to wait in to get at one of these cholesterol spiking creations. It was well past midnight, going on 1:00 am and we still had to wait in line for 45 minutes to order. But it was well worth it, because of BACON!!!!!! Yes, dear readers, you are correct, I have missed bacon greatly and now I was about to OD on it. I believe the specific creation I was consuming is called the bacon burrito dog, but do not let the simple name full you. This amalgamation of chili, hotdog, tortilla, cheese, and sour cream was teaming with bacon. I dare say there was the better percentage of a pig wrapped up in that tortilla. It was good. Wow! And when every finger licking morsel was down my gullet, I felt like a pig too.
Chris was kind enough to be driving and it is a good thing too. As soon as we sat down in the car, my eyes started to droop and by the time we got out of the parking lot I was lapsing in and out of consciousness. So pork filled was that stretched wheat tortilla that it was now taking all the energy my body had to just to digest its awesomeness. I fought to keep awake, but it was too much for me. Thanks for driving Chris, and sorry for snoring :)
The next morning I had all my things packed as I was hoping to see Bao Nguyen that day. He had just graduated from undergrad with a bio-chem degree and was now busily applying to pharmacology schools. He and his family live out in Victorville, where I stayed with them one summer several years ago. By luck, Bao was headed into Pamona college, not far from Chris, to wrap up a school project. Chris, once again, extended me a gracious ride out to meet Bao for lunch. Once I was in the capable hands of good Mr. Nguyen, Chris and I hugged and parted ways. Bao and I spent a very good lunch, pho no less :), catching up on his life and his plans for school. I have to say that I really like the California coast, but Bao has grown bored with the constant sunshine and lack of temperature variety. He has his hopes to go back to the midwest for graduate school. Being from Chicago, I reckon I can't blame his for wanting to return to his home and such.
After lunch, Bao took me to his school where I hung out in Starbucks catching up on all my electronic correspondences while Bao worked with his lab partner on their project. After working in the library for a several hours, they had succeeded in completing the team work part of it and decided to do the rest separately from their respective homes. Bao was also kind enough to drop me back in Pasadena.
I had found out through the wonderful social connections device known as Facebook, that my good college colleague, Sam Long, was studying at Cal Tech and working with Jet Propulsion Laboratories. For those of you who are not enginerds, Cal Tech is one of the best math/science/engineering schools in the country and JPL is one of the most highly sought after research institutions in the aerospace world. So, well done Sam! With some quick knocking on the interwebs doors, I was able to arrange to meet up with Sam after work and then head to dinner at the Yardhouse to meet up with my past roommate and good friend David Lui. Not to mention finally meet his fiance. The Yardhouse was a particularly fine establishment and most imporantly the fantastic selection of beers on tap came in half-yard glasses. I don't know how many ounces each glass actually is, but I do know I only remember having two of them. After that, the night gets a little foggy. I'm pretty sure I left under my own power, but I certainly didn't navigate. Lui and his lovely bride to be had a lot more wedding planning to do and so they left a bit early. Sam and I, however, stayed for... Well, I don't remember.
What I do remember, is that the next morning found me in pretty atrocious shape in Sam's dorm room. Sam had already went into work, so I took my time resting up and organizing my next mode of transportation. Several glasses of water later and I was on my way once again. This time to sunny and beautiful San Diego!
Greyhound was only $12 and I was really happy to see my friends from Peace Corps who have collected in a hippy commune of sorts in Santee, a suburb of San Diego. The proprietor of this fine little gathering place is Elizabeth Vaughn and she is sharing her childhood home with the excellent company of Jake Larson, Brian Stock (thanks for letting me crash in your bed by the way), Natalie Peters and a friend of Jake's names Nate (I think).
The bus got me in with just enough time to catch the public transit up to the beach where I was to meet my PC pals for a little bonfire on the beach. It was awesome! So nice to see everyone, enjoy the breeze off the ocean, eat some brats, watch the fire dance around our fire pit. Unfortunately, Brian was away for work, so I never did get to see him. After a few hours, Jake and Elizabeth called it a night. Jake works as an EMT and had a 24 hour shift coming up. So Natalie and I stayed with Rob, her beau, and the lovely couple Lauren and Simon (I think that was their names). After discussing this, that and the other for several hour we finally called it a night around 12:00 or so which was just about the time my hangover released me from its mind slowing grip. So back up to Santee where I borrowed Brian's bed and was immediately dead to the world.
The next day I had planned on taking the Greyhound to Phoenix and then a shuttle up to Prescott where I would meet up with another SLS graduate, Cher Vang. But after looking at all the options available to me, it was clear that public transit was not the cheapest way to go. I could rent a car for 24 hours, put gas in it, and still be slightly cheaper than Greyhound and the shuttles together. Mostly because I wasn't stopping until I reached Albuquerque. This, combined with CraigsList classifieds of people looking for a lift, made the total price less than $100. Not too shabby. So I spent most of the day with Natalie, jut relaxing. We went out to the beach, then a long bike ride with Rob, got some delicious carne asada and then beer at a local watering hole. It was a good day.
The next morning was a slow start for me. I was in no hurry as my car rental was scheduled for 12:00. Jake had come back from his shift and wasn't too exhausted, so he and I headed out to breakfast. We discussed his job and his eventual goal of being a fire fighter. Apparently, this is the way you work your way up to becoming a good candidate for fire fighting school. First be an EMT, then work your way up to being a paramedic. After a few years as a paramedic, then you are ready to begin learning about fires. According to Jake, most of a fire fighter's job is medical, not pyrotechnic. Good to know. I don't want to work as a paramedic, but I've always thought of that as a very good skill to know.
Well, this is kind of abrupt, but I have to sign off here. More to come though :)
So, not only did I get to relive a successful college weekend with Jake, but he also offers to buy my hand trike right on the spot. So we spend the better part of Monday morning disassembling it and packing it up. Head down to USPS and off it goes, back to Jake's place in Illinois. We owe a big thanks to Papp for hauling us around from place to place while we get our little ducks in a row. After a long lunch at Pho 21, Jake and I part from Papp's excellent company and head for his hotel room. We get Jake checked in, I look up a few things on the computer and then I'm off to Arcadia!!
Part of my purpose for this long and round about way of traveling is to visit my SLS brethren. Partly because I haven't seen some of them since graduation, and partly because next year will be our 10 year reunion and I wanted to talk to each member of our class individually to see what, when, and how we should make this shindig happen. I was more than a little slow in gathering up all that information for our five year reunion and I definitely don't want to repeat that mistake, so this time around I'm getting a very early start. And in Pasadena there lives a good man by the Name of Chris Cariaga and he graciously invited me to stay with him and his uncle for a night. With a non-trivial miracle and lots of questions, I was able to navigate LA public transit is a mere 3 hours to find myself at Chris' door. There we spent a few hours catching up on what we've been up to, what the immediate future might contain and what the farther future might be. I also got his feedback on what our 10 year reunion ought to be.
With our minds and hearts full from one another's company and conversation, we decided to balance out our bodies by filling our stomachs as well. That is when we went for Pink's. This historic establishment in LA proper is a hotdog stand to compare to no other. The list of nitrated, hand held, chili smothered meat dishes was staggering. Only slightly less staggering than the line we had to wait in to get at one of these cholesterol spiking creations. It was well past midnight, going on 1:00 am and we still had to wait in line for 45 minutes to order. But it was well worth it, because of BACON!!!!!! Yes, dear readers, you are correct, I have missed bacon greatly and now I was about to OD on it. I believe the specific creation I was consuming is called the bacon burrito dog, but do not let the simple name full you. This amalgamation of chili, hotdog, tortilla, cheese, and sour cream was teaming with bacon. I dare say there was the better percentage of a pig wrapped up in that tortilla. It was good. Wow! And when every finger licking morsel was down my gullet, I felt like a pig too.
Chris was kind enough to be driving and it is a good thing too. As soon as we sat down in the car, my eyes started to droop and by the time we got out of the parking lot I was lapsing in and out of consciousness. So pork filled was that stretched wheat tortilla that it was now taking all the energy my body had to just to digest its awesomeness. I fought to keep awake, but it was too much for me. Thanks for driving Chris, and sorry for snoring :)
The next morning I had all my things packed as I was hoping to see Bao Nguyen that day. He had just graduated from undergrad with a bio-chem degree and was now busily applying to pharmacology schools. He and his family live out in Victorville, where I stayed with them one summer several years ago. By luck, Bao was headed into Pamona college, not far from Chris, to wrap up a school project. Chris, once again, extended me a gracious ride out to meet Bao for lunch. Once I was in the capable hands of good Mr. Nguyen, Chris and I hugged and parted ways. Bao and I spent a very good lunch, pho no less :), catching up on his life and his plans for school. I have to say that I really like the California coast, but Bao has grown bored with the constant sunshine and lack of temperature variety. He has his hopes to go back to the midwest for graduate school. Being from Chicago, I reckon I can't blame his for wanting to return to his home and such.
After lunch, Bao took me to his school where I hung out in Starbucks catching up on all my electronic correspondences while Bao worked with his lab partner on their project. After working in the library for a several hours, they had succeeded in completing the team work part of it and decided to do the rest separately from their respective homes. Bao was also kind enough to drop me back in Pasadena.
I had found out through the wonderful social connections device known as Facebook, that my good college colleague, Sam Long, was studying at Cal Tech and working with Jet Propulsion Laboratories. For those of you who are not enginerds, Cal Tech is one of the best math/science/engineering schools in the country and JPL is one of the most highly sought after research institutions in the aerospace world. So, well done Sam! With some quick knocking on the interwebs doors, I was able to arrange to meet up with Sam after work and then head to dinner at the Yardhouse to meet up with my past roommate and good friend David Lui. Not to mention finally meet his fiance. The Yardhouse was a particularly fine establishment and most imporantly the fantastic selection of beers on tap came in half-yard glasses. I don't know how many ounces each glass actually is, but I do know I only remember having two of them. After that, the night gets a little foggy. I'm pretty sure I left under my own power, but I certainly didn't navigate. Lui and his lovely bride to be had a lot more wedding planning to do and so they left a bit early. Sam and I, however, stayed for... Well, I don't remember.
What I do remember, is that the next morning found me in pretty atrocious shape in Sam's dorm room. Sam had already went into work, so I took my time resting up and organizing my next mode of transportation. Several glasses of water later and I was on my way once again. This time to sunny and beautiful San Diego!
Greyhound was only $12 and I was really happy to see my friends from Peace Corps who have collected in a hippy commune of sorts in Santee, a suburb of San Diego. The proprietor of this fine little gathering place is Elizabeth Vaughn and she is sharing her childhood home with the excellent company of Jake Larson, Brian Stock (thanks for letting me crash in your bed by the way), Natalie Peters and a friend of Jake's names Nate (I think).
The bus got me in with just enough time to catch the public transit up to the beach where I was to meet my PC pals for a little bonfire on the beach. It was awesome! So nice to see everyone, enjoy the breeze off the ocean, eat some brats, watch the fire dance around our fire pit. Unfortunately, Brian was away for work, so I never did get to see him. After a few hours, Jake and Elizabeth called it a night. Jake works as an EMT and had a 24 hour shift coming up. So Natalie and I stayed with Rob, her beau, and the lovely couple Lauren and Simon (I think that was their names). After discussing this, that and the other for several hour we finally called it a night around 12:00 or so which was just about the time my hangover released me from its mind slowing grip. So back up to Santee where I borrowed Brian's bed and was immediately dead to the world.
The next day I had planned on taking the Greyhound to Phoenix and then a shuttle up to Prescott where I would meet up with another SLS graduate, Cher Vang. But after looking at all the options available to me, it was clear that public transit was not the cheapest way to go. I could rent a car for 24 hours, put gas in it, and still be slightly cheaper than Greyhound and the shuttles together. Mostly because I wasn't stopping until I reached Albuquerque. This, combined with CraigsList classifieds of people looking for a lift, made the total price less than $100. Not too shabby. So I spent most of the day with Natalie, jut relaxing. We went out to the beach, then a long bike ride with Rob, got some delicious carne asada and then beer at a local watering hole. It was a good day.
The next morning was a slow start for me. I was in no hurry as my car rental was scheduled for 12:00. Jake had come back from his shift and wasn't too exhausted, so he and I headed out to breakfast. We discussed his job and his eventual goal of being a fire fighter. Apparently, this is the way you work your way up to becoming a good candidate for fire fighting school. First be an EMT, then work your way up to being a paramedic. After a few years as a paramedic, then you are ready to begin learning about fires. According to Jake, most of a fire fighter's job is medical, not pyrotechnic. Good to know. I don't want to work as a paramedic, but I've always thought of that as a very good skill to know.
Well, this is kind of abrupt, but I have to sign off here. More to come though :)
Monday, July 1, 2013
The Map
For those of you interested, here was my entire trip according to Google Maps. I left out the specific address, but you will get the idea.
The whole trip
The whole trip
Map of travels
After a breakfast of leftovers, (I was told to make myself at home and at home I eat leftovers often) Mrs. McDermut joined me for a bit, in between her miriad phone calls. She is a very busy woman, but still made time to force some dried blueberries on me (well she didn't have to force too hard) and wish me on my way. After careening down the hill and scaring an morning motorist I was back on the road for a nice, short leisurely ride to Ventura, my last coastal town before I climbed up the hills in to the beating heart of LA.
And that is pretty much all there is to tell. I didn't have any problems, the ride was quick and easy, the only hard part was climbing the last little hill to my hosts' place. Now this is the interesting part. My host, a couch surfer named Joy, is the mother of two and just recently migrated her family onto to terre ferma. A week prior to my visit, she was living with her teenage son and daughter on a sailing boat in the harbor. She is an avid sailor, rides horses, and currently has seen pretty reasonable success in her online business. She is an RN and (here is the part that I really want to try now) was recently a crew member on a replica of a 16th century galleon! Apparently, San Diego has a tall ship festival every year. Joy wanted to take her kids to it as well as a few of their friends, so with her small gaggle of adolescents, they begin touring around these giant wooden vessels. Being the avid sailor and skipper that she is, she began asking lots of questions from the crew. So detailed and relentless were her questions about the fine points of rigging and sailing a ship of this size that eventually she was speaking with a captain of one of the three mast giants. By the time the conversation had concluded, the dialog had turned more into an interview and the captain offered her a position with the crew for the trip from San Diego to New Zealand! As she was accepting the offer, she suddenly realized that she was supposed to be chaperoning the kids, then she further realized (now brought out of her dream, almost come true) to the fact that she could not take her kids on this three month voyage.
So in a matter of days, she put her work on hold, arranged for the father of her kids to take them, and then headed of into the pacific on a relic of the Armada! What an awesome story, she was even paid enough to afford the ticket back to the US after arriving. She said that sometimes they will even take green horns like me to be a night watchman, basically sit up all night and make sure we don't hit anything. This has me extremely enticed. She even offered to borrow a boat (she sold hers when she became a terrestrial once again) and take me sailing for a day. If I had more time I certainly would have, however the offer still stands and so I just might take a crack at this sailing thing next summer and see if I have sea legs or not. If I do, then there is also a shorter voyage that usually takes on rookies from Baja California up to San Diego. I haven't investigated this for myself, but Joy seemed to be well versed on the sailing world.
So after lots and lots of conversation, we went to an Irish pub nearby, had dinner and beer, then called it a night. I had a long day of hill climbing ahead of me and I needed some sleep.
The next morning Joy was happy to whip me up an awesome breakfast, including some chocolate covered raspberries that she had made herself the day before. Then, I cleaned up my sleeping area, packed my stuff and with a hug from Joy I was out the door and on my way.
The next 11 hours were miserable. From sea level, it was a long slow gradual climb that took me up 1200+ feet to the pass. When I was going to Santa Cruz, I am pretty sure I climbed just as much, but is was a shorter distance and so I got off and pulled a lot more. This time, it wasn't quite steep enough to justify getting off and pulling so I kept plugging away at it until I was right at the foot of the pass. I pulled the trike the next three miles or so up the last 500 feet. I was too pooped to care that it was only 500 feet. It seemed like it was a lot more. Once at the top, I selected a nice stout branch for my ad-hock breaking system and began my very short, fast decent. This is the worst part. I spent nearly 10 hours climbing up the pass, and my decent was just over 30 minutes. There was a highlight though, all along this route were lots and lots of fruit stands and so I stopped in at one for lunch and feasted on fresh cherries, blueberries, and raspberries. I'm pretty sure I ate five pounds of fruit.
So after my quick decent, which turned out to be a good thing because all the fruit for lunch was catching up with me and I need to find a toilet, I found the residence of Mr. John Micheal McGuire Papp and his roommate (who was also his roommate in college coincedently) Mr. Grant "The Gentle Ginger Giant" Walthall. I was greeted with smiles, handshakes and most importantly, beer! These two young IT specialists were gifted with a brand new kegorator! So we settled into some delicious beer, I found the toilet and shower, then more beer. We caught up on all that had been happening in our respective lives and dined on delicious oven pizza. When that wasn't enough, we swilled more beer and ordered Domino's! How I miss college.
The rest of the night, was like so many other college Friday nights and I wound up on the floor.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
The trip to Santa Maria wasn't hard at all. I actually took my time and enjoyed the journey a lot. It was pretty flat, the wind was at my back (oh sweet wind, how you can make such a difference) and I ended up arriving two hours ahead of schedule. One of the reasons I was cruising a long so well is because I had fortunately lined up a place to stay for the night on couchsurfing.org. Ryan Mackereth wasn't around Santa Maria at the moment as he is currently cycling across the US with a friend, but he did give me the phone number of his dad who was kind enough to let me stay with them! And what an awesome host he was.
I arrived early, so I guess I caught Mr. Mackereth off guard but he welcomed me in all the same. After stowing my handcycle in the back yard we proceeded to chat a bit. It turns out that Mr. Mackereth is a retired Lutheran minister who spent four years in Nigeria working on translation and forming a writing system for the local language in one very small area. So we had a fantastic time discussing all the similarities and differences between his mission work and my Peace Corps experience in Uganda. Despite the fact that he was in Africa 25 years before me, our overall experiences were pretty much the same.
So we continued to chat after I had gotten myself cleaned up. He offered to wash my cloths, but I had just done laundry at Akane's house, so I was good. Then his wife, Lynn, came home from work and we set to a delicious pot roast! Oh, it had been so long since I got to enjoy meat and potatoes, with awesome gravy no less! I tried not to be a pig, but it was so good I had to have seconds... then thirds... then fourths! Mr. and Mrs. Mackereth just chuckled and encouraged me. I didn't finish off everything, but I was pretty close. Mr. Mackereth insisted that I have it for breakfast the next day though :) After dinner Mr. Mackereth and I got in his little Suzuki and he insisted on showing me the route I would take out of town the next day. He was going to show me the beach too, but my eyes were drooping and I was fading fast. So he took us home and I went to sleep instantly. The bed was soft and welcoming. I slept like the dead.
The next morning the Mackereths were up at 5:00 am. I didn't even notice. I slept until 7:00, then Mr. Mackereth made me breakfast. Left overs with cantaloupe and toast. A hearty breakfast for my upcoming 40 mile ride. After he snapped a few pictures of me on my handcycle, he insisted on giving me a flag. The kind of flag dune buggies and other such beach roving vehicles have to make them more visible. So with my bright orange flag flapping in the breeze behind me, I was off.
Then next 40 miles were rough. I don't know what happened, but after about 1:00 pm, the wind was against me and I started a series of uphill climbs. It was slow going and painful. Because of the wind, I couldn't get very much momentum on the downhills so I could only coast up the next hill a little bit. Then I would down shift and do a sprint with my arms to try and get as far as I could, but eventually I would slow to a snail's pace at which point I would stop, get off, and start pulling. This was repeated until I finally reached a big uphill climb. About two miles of gradual uphill until I reached the peak where the wind was so gusty that going down it didn't even require a stick! I slowly coasted down the behemoth of a hill and saw that I was getting close to my destination. According to Uncle Google, I needed to go around the bend and cruise along the coast for about four miles to reach Gaviota State Park. Now, as I came to the bottom of the hill I saw a big brown sign for Gaviota State Beach and figured the park entrance must be getting close. The last park I camped at was only a few miles from the state beach as well. Turns out though, that Uncle Google was lying! The state park and state beach are the same damn thing in this case! So I fought and struggled and cussed the wind as I made that four mile journey, only to turn around and come right back.
So I finally get to the beach and the wind is ferocious! Huge gusts, up to 40 miles an hour with a pretty steady 20 mile an hour wind speed. This is ridiculous! The only tent I saw standing was the one the park ranger slept in. Everyone else had given up and retired to their campers and RV's. I didn't have a tent, and there was no place to get out of the wind, so I was just going to be cowboy camping in a sleeping bag and hope that none of my stuff would get lifted off to OZ or wherever gusty wind takes things. The only good thing about Gaviota stat beach is that they had a little convenience store. So I walked into the shop and headed straight for the canned beans aisle only to stop dead in my tracks and begin giggling like a little retarded child, for I had spied the refrigerator! And it was full of BEER!! After such a miserable ride and a full eight miles out of my way, nothing could have made me happier than cold beer. So I got a can of beans and a six pack and headed back to my little campsite. I untied most of my stuff and put the heavy things on top the light things and then went to the shower with a beer. The water was even warm! Awesome, beer and showers are made for each other. Then back to my campsite when I polished off my beans and proceeded to drink two more beers. I decided that I didn't want to be hungover in the morning, so I would save the other three for breakfast :) Then I unrolled my sleeping bag as the sun was going down, crawled in and settled down for the worst night's sleep of my entire trip. I had on my T-shirt, then long sleeve shirt, then a fleece jacket, and finally my rain jacket. I was wearing shorts with my pants as well as socks, but the wind kept biting through. The air wasn't that cold, maybe 65 F, but it was just a relentless howling wind that kept me from ever really falling into a sound sleep. Terrible! I HATE YOU, WIND!!
Then next morning I was up at dawn, packed my stuff and headed out. I wasn't to get away from this gusty excuse for a park as soon as I could. And, I had just gotten another possible place to stay in Santa Barbara. So I confirmed with the host, again a very nice parent of someone who is currently on a cycling trip. This time Chris McDermut gave me the number of his mom as he is currently cycling in southeast Asia with ambitions to cycle around the world! His mom was very nice over the phone and told me I would be welcome in there home. So I rode to Santa Barbara as quickly as I could. Once I got about seven miles from Gaviota State Beach, the wind began to die down and the ride became rather pleasant. Lots of clear blue water and I could see the channel islands off the coast. But they were obscured by the marine layer that always hangs just off the coast and settles in every night. The area hardly gets any rain, so this fog/mist is what helps to keep the natural flora alive. People, of course, spend a lot of energy watering all the other green stuffs.
The I made it to Montecito, a part of Santa Barbara, without any problems and as I climbed up the hill to the McDermut residence I heard "David? Are you David?" That wasn't what I was expecting, but sure enough, Mrs. McDermut was on her way to a meeting and spotted me along the road. She told me to go ahead to the house and don't be alarmed when the dog barks its head off. Her daughter, Maggy would be there too and could let me in. So I did just that. The dog started barking just as she had said, but my knock at the door did not bring anyone, so I cracked open my last beer and laid down in the shade to relax. After a while the door opened and sure enough, Maggy was there to let me in. She had been in the shower apparently, and was getting ready to go and house sit for a some friends. She showed me to Chris' room where I sprawled out my stuff and then showered. By the time I was out of the shower, Mrs. McDermut had returned and we began chatting about everything. What I was doing, what her son was doing, Maggy's job as a equestrian instructor and much, much more. However, our conversation wasn't to last as Maggy had to get going and Mrs. McDermut insisted that she and I go out to eat as she just came back from a meeting and didn't feel like cooking. So we enjoyed some more conversation over an amazing dinner at a very nice Italian restaurant. This took us until sunset and then back to the house. I did a little work on the computer before calling it a night.
Wheeew! More to come.
I arrived early, so I guess I caught Mr. Mackereth off guard but he welcomed me in all the same. After stowing my handcycle in the back yard we proceeded to chat a bit. It turns out that Mr. Mackereth is a retired Lutheran minister who spent four years in Nigeria working on translation and forming a writing system for the local language in one very small area. So we had a fantastic time discussing all the similarities and differences between his mission work and my Peace Corps experience in Uganda. Despite the fact that he was in Africa 25 years before me, our overall experiences were pretty much the same.
So we continued to chat after I had gotten myself cleaned up. He offered to wash my cloths, but I had just done laundry at Akane's house, so I was good. Then his wife, Lynn, came home from work and we set to a delicious pot roast! Oh, it had been so long since I got to enjoy meat and potatoes, with awesome gravy no less! I tried not to be a pig, but it was so good I had to have seconds... then thirds... then fourths! Mr. and Mrs. Mackereth just chuckled and encouraged me. I didn't finish off everything, but I was pretty close. Mr. Mackereth insisted that I have it for breakfast the next day though :) After dinner Mr. Mackereth and I got in his little Suzuki and he insisted on showing me the route I would take out of town the next day. He was going to show me the beach too, but my eyes were drooping and I was fading fast. So he took us home and I went to sleep instantly. The bed was soft and welcoming. I slept like the dead.
The next morning the Mackereths were up at 5:00 am. I didn't even notice. I slept until 7:00, then Mr. Mackereth made me breakfast. Left overs with cantaloupe and toast. A hearty breakfast for my upcoming 40 mile ride. After he snapped a few pictures of me on my handcycle, he insisted on giving me a flag. The kind of flag dune buggies and other such beach roving vehicles have to make them more visible. So with my bright orange flag flapping in the breeze behind me, I was off.
Then next 40 miles were rough. I don't know what happened, but after about 1:00 pm, the wind was against me and I started a series of uphill climbs. It was slow going and painful. Because of the wind, I couldn't get very much momentum on the downhills so I could only coast up the next hill a little bit. Then I would down shift and do a sprint with my arms to try and get as far as I could, but eventually I would slow to a snail's pace at which point I would stop, get off, and start pulling. This was repeated until I finally reached a big uphill climb. About two miles of gradual uphill until I reached the peak where the wind was so gusty that going down it didn't even require a stick! I slowly coasted down the behemoth of a hill and saw that I was getting close to my destination. According to Uncle Google, I needed to go around the bend and cruise along the coast for about four miles to reach Gaviota State Park. Now, as I came to the bottom of the hill I saw a big brown sign for Gaviota State Beach and figured the park entrance must be getting close. The last park I camped at was only a few miles from the state beach as well. Turns out though, that Uncle Google was lying! The state park and state beach are the same damn thing in this case! So I fought and struggled and cussed the wind as I made that four mile journey, only to turn around and come right back.
So I finally get to the beach and the wind is ferocious! Huge gusts, up to 40 miles an hour with a pretty steady 20 mile an hour wind speed. This is ridiculous! The only tent I saw standing was the one the park ranger slept in. Everyone else had given up and retired to their campers and RV's. I didn't have a tent, and there was no place to get out of the wind, so I was just going to be cowboy camping in a sleeping bag and hope that none of my stuff would get lifted off to OZ or wherever gusty wind takes things. The only good thing about Gaviota stat beach is that they had a little convenience store. So I walked into the shop and headed straight for the canned beans aisle only to stop dead in my tracks and begin giggling like a little retarded child, for I had spied the refrigerator! And it was full of BEER!! After such a miserable ride and a full eight miles out of my way, nothing could have made me happier than cold beer. So I got a can of beans and a six pack and headed back to my little campsite. I untied most of my stuff and put the heavy things on top the light things and then went to the shower with a beer. The water was even warm! Awesome, beer and showers are made for each other. Then back to my campsite when I polished off my beans and proceeded to drink two more beers. I decided that I didn't want to be hungover in the morning, so I would save the other three for breakfast :) Then I unrolled my sleeping bag as the sun was going down, crawled in and settled down for the worst night's sleep of my entire trip. I had on my T-shirt, then long sleeve shirt, then a fleece jacket, and finally my rain jacket. I was wearing shorts with my pants as well as socks, but the wind kept biting through. The air wasn't that cold, maybe 65 F, but it was just a relentless howling wind that kept me from ever really falling into a sound sleep. Terrible! I HATE YOU, WIND!!
Then next morning I was up at dawn, packed my stuff and headed out. I wasn't to get away from this gusty excuse for a park as soon as I could. And, I had just gotten another possible place to stay in Santa Barbara. So I confirmed with the host, again a very nice parent of someone who is currently on a cycling trip. This time Chris McDermut gave me the number of his mom as he is currently cycling in southeast Asia with ambitions to cycle around the world! His mom was very nice over the phone and told me I would be welcome in there home. So I rode to Santa Barbara as quickly as I could. Once I got about seven miles from Gaviota State Beach, the wind began to die down and the ride became rather pleasant. Lots of clear blue water and I could see the channel islands off the coast. But they were obscured by the marine layer that always hangs just off the coast and settles in every night. The area hardly gets any rain, so this fog/mist is what helps to keep the natural flora alive. People, of course, spend a lot of energy watering all the other green stuffs.
The I made it to Montecito, a part of Santa Barbara, without any problems and as I climbed up the hill to the McDermut residence I heard "David? Are you David?" That wasn't what I was expecting, but sure enough, Mrs. McDermut was on her way to a meeting and spotted me along the road. She told me to go ahead to the house and don't be alarmed when the dog barks its head off. Her daughter, Maggy would be there too and could let me in. So I did just that. The dog started barking just as she had said, but my knock at the door did not bring anyone, so I cracked open my last beer and laid down in the shade to relax. After a while the door opened and sure enough, Maggy was there to let me in. She had been in the shower apparently, and was getting ready to go and house sit for a some friends. She showed me to Chris' room where I sprawled out my stuff and then showered. By the time I was out of the shower, Mrs. McDermut had returned and we began chatting about everything. What I was doing, what her son was doing, Maggy's job as a equestrian instructor and much, much more. However, our conversation wasn't to last as Maggy had to get going and Mrs. McDermut insisted that she and I go out to eat as she just came back from a meeting and didn't feel like cooking. So we enjoyed some more conversation over an amazing dinner at a very nice Italian restaurant. This took us until sunset and then back to the house. I did a little work on the computer before calling it a night.
Wheeew! More to come.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Ok, so after Abby rescued me from dragging my cart up her giant mountain, she let me shower, rehydrate and then we headed over to her neighbor's house for dinner. Her neighbor is a nice guy named Kareem, from France. He cooked a fantastic dinner, then we had cheese! Oh how I have missed CHEESE!! Good cheese too! It was so good, I ate so much. Beer was flowing throughout dinner, then we had an after dinner cocktail and headed for the HOT TUB!!! What an awesome way to recover from a horrific day of cranking on that trike.
We stayed out in the hot tub joking and laughing until about 1 am, then my eyes started to fade and Abby was kind enough to excuse us so I could pass out. And pass out I did. I slept in a fantastically soft bed. A tornado could not have woke me up.
In the morning my alarm clock forced me to move muscles that ached so badly I could have cried. But, I was rewarded with my heroic awakening efforts with a fantastic huevos rancheros breakfast. Soooo good. I miss American food more than I thought. After a hearty breakfast, Abby took me to my next starting point and from there it was nothing but grueling work. For the next 10 hours I battled wind and sun at about 5 miles an hour. All this time I am getting nervous because I don't have a place to stay. I had sent out some couchsurfing requests to people in Marina, but no responses.
So as I made my way down the beaches and fields, I contemplated my options. Sleeping out along the road didn't seem so bad, but it would be nice to have a shower. Then I remember Hal, my old roommate from Los Alamos, suggested I contact a good man by the name of Andrew Stoker as he is from this area. So I did just that, and not a moment too soon. After some initial confusion he was able to put me in contact with his folks who were more than happy to help me out. The problem is they live 10 miles south of Marina. I did not want to go that far. My arms were killing me, but I did want a place to stay, so I bowed into the wind and continued to grunt and pant all the way to Monterey. My handy dandy smart phone, in combination with a mobile hotspot that was lent to me by a friend, made it possible to do all this contacting of people.
It took me nearly 3.5 hours to reach Monterey, but it was well worth it. Mr. Stoker showed me to the guest house, that's right a whole freaking house for me to use for the night. Along with this guest house came to wonderful things, a cold beer and a hot tub! Oh man, two days in a row! With hospitality like this, I could definitely get used to the painful days of riding. So I showered, had a beer and soaked until dark. It was glorious! Again, a soft bed to rest my weary body and I was out like a light.
The next day found me bright and early at 7:30 am. I gathered my things and headed out by 8:00. My hosts had just come back from long trip of there own so I didn't wake them to say goodbye, but man did I appreciate the generous help on such short notice.
From this point on it was hills and hills along the coast. Absolutely beautiful views, but I spent so much effort and time being exhausted that I could only glance over the edge as I trudged along the way. I did spend a few breaks sitting at the edge and looking out into the incredibly blue ocean below equally blue skies. And, because these big hills were so steep and tall, I also spent a lot of time pulling my contraption up the hills. I had a general rule that if riding it was slower than getting off and pulling it, then I would pull it as I didn't want to be cycling at night. So for the next 9 hours or so I worked and trudged and worked and on the down hills I need another stick to slow me down and finally I made it to the town of Big Sur. Not much to say about this town, a few over priced restaurants and shops and a few over priced parks for camping and I decided I would move on. Again I had no couchsurfing responses so I settled on going about 10 miles south and camping among a clump of trees. I had trailmix that Chadwick had given me for dinner and watched the sunset over the ocean from my perch among the trees on a cliff. The guard rail on the road kept me reasonably hidden and the barking of seal with the crash of waves lulled me to sleep. What a day. No hot tub, but this little 20' by 20' patch of pine needles was all I needed for a very restful night's sleep. That and I had the great satisfaction that I didn't have to pay $35 for it either, as that was apparently the going price for the other campgrounds I passed along the way. Wheeeew.
The next morning I was up and moving by 7:45. I did the exact same as the day before. I stopped at the "villages" of Lucia, Gorda, and Ragged Point along the way, but only to find more overpriced restaurants, shops, hotels, resorts, and parks. So on I trudged. They wouldn't even let me use wifi, which I needed because my mobile hotspot could not get a signal. So, like a rejected puppy, I hung my head and moved on. Then, at the last shop, where I stopped to get canned beans (4 time the price the should be, but the cheapest sustenance I could find) I saw a fellow cyclist who had passed me a while back as I pulled my contraption up yet another ungodly steep incline. He informed me that all the state parks have $5 camping for cyclists and hikers. Whoooo hoooo!!! I am saved! Not only that, but the park he was heading to was only another 15 miles or sow down the road. Despite my exhaustion and aching grip, I found a new burst of energy (the honey I bought and chugged probably helped). I headed south and found Johnny, the cyclist who clued me in, along with a gaggle of other human powered enthusiasts at the park. It was 8:25 when I pulled in, so 12 hours and 40 minutes from my departure time and approximately 55 miles from my departure location, I was able to rest. The park even had showers!! So I cleaned up, laid out the sleeping bag and then stood around the campfire with everyone else answering questions about my stupidity and bravery for taking on Big Sur on a hand trike, while I wolfed down three cans of beans and a can of beef stew. Wheeew, what a day.
Then next morning I was heading to San Luis Obispo which was a mere 35 miles away, so after the ridiculous day I had previously, I took the morning slow. I allowed the other cyclists to give my trike a try. They then applauded my lunacy as I finally climbed on for my departure. I stopped in the town of Cambria and treated myself to breakfast while I checked my emails and such. My good friend Haluna had told me she had a sister in San Luis Obispo who would probably let me stay on her couch and sure enough she had arranged just that. So for the next 25 miles I took it slow and easy. Taking time to check out the elephant seals, and enjoy the nice small rolling hills. So nice. Not only that, but the wind was with me!! Oh thank you wind. The sky was overcast and the wind from the ocean was cold so I kept my long sleeve shirt on and didn't put on any sunscreen. That was a mistake. In the afternoon the sun came out and it got hotter so I took off my long sleeves and put on sunscreen, but as I got to SLO I realized it was a serious mistake. I should have put on sunscreen at the very beginning. My face was cooked. I had a fantastic tan line where my bandanna covered my forehead. Dang me and my dumb self.
That brings me to the awesome and welcoming hospitality of Akane Gunterman, the boisterous biologist in SLO. She left a key for me and told me to help myself to the refrigerator. So I did just that. I showered and ate and then slept. It was awesome! Akane got home about 8:00 and then we went for a bite, watched "Man of Steel" and then it was to sleep for me. Again, and amazing soft bed for my weary bones and now I feel so much better. Today I am taking a rest day because it marks the middle of my journey, both time and miles wise. Tomorrow I head for Santa Maria and will be away from the cool breeze of the Ocean for a bit. I need rest and make ready for the next 230 miles of my journey.
More to come as the party has just begun!
We stayed out in the hot tub joking and laughing until about 1 am, then my eyes started to fade and Abby was kind enough to excuse us so I could pass out. And pass out I did. I slept in a fantastically soft bed. A tornado could not have woke me up.
In the morning my alarm clock forced me to move muscles that ached so badly I could have cried. But, I was rewarded with my heroic awakening efforts with a fantastic huevos rancheros breakfast. Soooo good. I miss American food more than I thought. After a hearty breakfast, Abby took me to my next starting point and from there it was nothing but grueling work. For the next 10 hours I battled wind and sun at about 5 miles an hour. All this time I am getting nervous because I don't have a place to stay. I had sent out some couchsurfing requests to people in Marina, but no responses.
So as I made my way down the beaches and fields, I contemplated my options. Sleeping out along the road didn't seem so bad, but it would be nice to have a shower. Then I remember Hal, my old roommate from Los Alamos, suggested I contact a good man by the name of Andrew Stoker as he is from this area. So I did just that, and not a moment too soon. After some initial confusion he was able to put me in contact with his folks who were more than happy to help me out. The problem is they live 10 miles south of Marina. I did not want to go that far. My arms were killing me, but I did want a place to stay, so I bowed into the wind and continued to grunt and pant all the way to Monterey. My handy dandy smart phone, in combination with a mobile hotspot that was lent to me by a friend, made it possible to do all this contacting of people.
It took me nearly 3.5 hours to reach Monterey, but it was well worth it. Mr. Stoker showed me to the guest house, that's right a whole freaking house for me to use for the night. Along with this guest house came to wonderful things, a cold beer and a hot tub! Oh man, two days in a row! With hospitality like this, I could definitely get used to the painful days of riding. So I showered, had a beer and soaked until dark. It was glorious! Again, a soft bed to rest my weary body and I was out like a light.
The next day found me bright and early at 7:30 am. I gathered my things and headed out by 8:00. My hosts had just come back from long trip of there own so I didn't wake them to say goodbye, but man did I appreciate the generous help on such short notice.
From this point on it was hills and hills along the coast. Absolutely beautiful views, but I spent so much effort and time being exhausted that I could only glance over the edge as I trudged along the way. I did spend a few breaks sitting at the edge and looking out into the incredibly blue ocean below equally blue skies. And, because these big hills were so steep and tall, I also spent a lot of time pulling my contraption up the hills. I had a general rule that if riding it was slower than getting off and pulling it, then I would pull it as I didn't want to be cycling at night. So for the next 9 hours or so I worked and trudged and worked and on the down hills I need another stick to slow me down and finally I made it to the town of Big Sur. Not much to say about this town, a few over priced restaurants and shops and a few over priced parks for camping and I decided I would move on. Again I had no couchsurfing responses so I settled on going about 10 miles south and camping among a clump of trees. I had trailmix that Chadwick had given me for dinner and watched the sunset over the ocean from my perch among the trees on a cliff. The guard rail on the road kept me reasonably hidden and the barking of seal with the crash of waves lulled me to sleep. What a day. No hot tub, but this little 20' by 20' patch of pine needles was all I needed for a very restful night's sleep. That and I had the great satisfaction that I didn't have to pay $35 for it either, as that was apparently the going price for the other campgrounds I passed along the way. Wheeeew.
The next morning I was up and moving by 7:45. I did the exact same as the day before. I stopped at the "villages" of Lucia, Gorda, and Ragged Point along the way, but only to find more overpriced restaurants, shops, hotels, resorts, and parks. So on I trudged. They wouldn't even let me use wifi, which I needed because my mobile hotspot could not get a signal. So, like a rejected puppy, I hung my head and moved on. Then, at the last shop, where I stopped to get canned beans (4 time the price the should be, but the cheapest sustenance I could find) I saw a fellow cyclist who had passed me a while back as I pulled my contraption up yet another ungodly steep incline. He informed me that all the state parks have $5 camping for cyclists and hikers. Whoooo hoooo!!! I am saved! Not only that, but the park he was heading to was only another 15 miles or sow down the road. Despite my exhaustion and aching grip, I found a new burst of energy (the honey I bought and chugged probably helped). I headed south and found Johnny, the cyclist who clued me in, along with a gaggle of other human powered enthusiasts at the park. It was 8:25 when I pulled in, so 12 hours and 40 minutes from my departure time and approximately 55 miles from my departure location, I was able to rest. The park even had showers!! So I cleaned up, laid out the sleeping bag and then stood around the campfire with everyone else answering questions about my stupidity and bravery for taking on Big Sur on a hand trike, while I wolfed down three cans of beans and a can of beef stew. Wheeew, what a day.
Then next morning I was heading to San Luis Obispo which was a mere 35 miles away, so after the ridiculous day I had previously, I took the morning slow. I allowed the other cyclists to give my trike a try. They then applauded my lunacy as I finally climbed on for my departure. I stopped in the town of Cambria and treated myself to breakfast while I checked my emails and such. My good friend Haluna had told me she had a sister in San Luis Obispo who would probably let me stay on her couch and sure enough she had arranged just that. So for the next 25 miles I took it slow and easy. Taking time to check out the elephant seals, and enjoy the nice small rolling hills. So nice. Not only that, but the wind was with me!! Oh thank you wind. The sky was overcast and the wind from the ocean was cold so I kept my long sleeve shirt on and didn't put on any sunscreen. That was a mistake. In the afternoon the sun came out and it got hotter so I took off my long sleeves and put on sunscreen, but as I got to SLO I realized it was a serious mistake. I should have put on sunscreen at the very beginning. My face was cooked. I had a fantastic tan line where my bandanna covered my forehead. Dang me and my dumb self.
That brings me to the awesome and welcoming hospitality of Akane Gunterman, the boisterous biologist in SLO. She left a key for me and told me to help myself to the refrigerator. So I did just that. I showered and ate and then slept. It was awesome! Akane got home about 8:00 and then we went for a bite, watched "Man of Steel" and then it was to sleep for me. Again, and amazing soft bed for my weary bones and now I feel so much better. Today I am taking a rest day because it marks the middle of my journey, both time and miles wise. Tomorrow I head for Santa Maria and will be away from the cool breeze of the Ocean for a bit. I need rest and make ready for the next 230 miles of my journey.
More to come as the party has just begun!
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
WOW!!!!!!!!
So after I left the wonderful hospitality of Haluna Gunterman, I headed south. I cheated a little bit and took the public transit to the end of the line in Fremont. From there I hoped on my hand trike and rolled onward. I made terrible progress. First, because I was fat and out of shape, secondly because this contraption is DIFFICULT!
My hands hurt so badly, not from calluses, but from grip. You get so much of your power from pulling on the cranks that after a while my hands were killing me. I had to change position some how. So I adjusted the distance between me and the crank making more space. This allowed me to use my abdomen to help me push foreword and my back muscles to help me pull back, thus allowing my arms to pull up and push down on the cranks giving me nearly a constant torque. Then end result: now my whole body hurts!!!
After 25 hard miles of trudging along the city scene, I finally arrived at my destination. The wonderful and efficient apartment of Mr. Chadwick Conway. He stashed key for me so I could let me self in, I drank his beer, soaked in his tub and then he came home and made me pizza!!! This is after I ate an entire hand of bananas I found on the counter with the jar of homemade peanut butter Dominick had given me.
I did laundry, chatted with Chadwick about his job at Tesla Motors and then passed out on his futon. I was whipped.
Then next day I woke at 7 as Chadwick headed for work. I had left over pizza for breakfast and then hit the road myself. My goal was Santa Cruz. I had google map directions, trail mix (complements of Chadwick) and plenty of water. I was set. What I was not prepared for was the 1000+ foot climb to the top of a damn mountain. I didn't even try cranking my way up, I got off and pulled the dang trike all three miles and 1000 feet of it. It was long, hot and grueling. Minus one wrong turn and some back tracking it did all go pretty well, though.
Once at the top of this ridiculous climb I though "goody! what goes up must come down!" Well, I did come down, and fast. So fast in fact that I could smell my breaks. NOT GOOD. I am hauling down this mountain on three wheels (which by the way, three wheels at low speeds are inherently more stable than two, the opposite is true at high speeds) on a very narrow road with lots of switch backs. I nearly died, again. So, after finally coming to a complete stop, I spat on my break drum and sure enough I hear the sizzle that means heat and see the steam. I pour water on it and begin to think. Then, I spy a stout piece of pine branch and get an idea. It is just about the right length and with a little toying around I am able to lever it under the bike so that is drags constantly, and if I pull up on it, it drags a lot! Excellent! So down I go once more. It is working pretty well, I use the wheel break to negotiate turns and the branch to keep me at a reasonable speed. All is well, until I stop. While slugging down some refreshing water I smell something, smoke. I look around and see nothing, then the though occurs to me. So I look at my pine branch and sure enough, it is smoldering. Well, shoot. So much for using that as a break, I keep this up and will soon be moving like my butt's on fire!
So I dowse that with some water and go looking again. In the end I settle on what I think is a nice green piece of birch, about as big as my wrist. For the rest of the cruise down the mountain I have no problems. Until I reach the bottom of the mountain. I inquire as to the address of the friend I am aiming to stay with and the man point to the top of the next mountain. ABSOLUTELY NOT! I didn't say it out loud but I thought it. So I text and call Ms. Abby Chrystal and she agrees to come the 5 miles to rescue me in her Yaris. Ohhh! What a Godsend!
To be continued.
So after I left the wonderful hospitality of Haluna Gunterman, I headed south. I cheated a little bit and took the public transit to the end of the line in Fremont. From there I hoped on my hand trike and rolled onward. I made terrible progress. First, because I was fat and out of shape, secondly because this contraption is DIFFICULT!
My hands hurt so badly, not from calluses, but from grip. You get so much of your power from pulling on the cranks that after a while my hands were killing me. I had to change position some how. So I adjusted the distance between me and the crank making more space. This allowed me to use my abdomen to help me push foreword and my back muscles to help me pull back, thus allowing my arms to pull up and push down on the cranks giving me nearly a constant torque. Then end result: now my whole body hurts!!!
After 25 hard miles of trudging along the city scene, I finally arrived at my destination. The wonderful and efficient apartment of Mr. Chadwick Conway. He stashed key for me so I could let me self in, I drank his beer, soaked in his tub and then he came home and made me pizza!!! This is after I ate an entire hand of bananas I found on the counter with the jar of homemade peanut butter Dominick had given me.
I did laundry, chatted with Chadwick about his job at Tesla Motors and then passed out on his futon. I was whipped.
Then next day I woke at 7 as Chadwick headed for work. I had left over pizza for breakfast and then hit the road myself. My goal was Santa Cruz. I had google map directions, trail mix (complements of Chadwick) and plenty of water. I was set. What I was not prepared for was the 1000+ foot climb to the top of a damn mountain. I didn't even try cranking my way up, I got off and pulled the dang trike all three miles and 1000 feet of it. It was long, hot and grueling. Minus one wrong turn and some back tracking it did all go pretty well, though.
Once at the top of this ridiculous climb I though "goody! what goes up must come down!" Well, I did come down, and fast. So fast in fact that I could smell my breaks. NOT GOOD. I am hauling down this mountain on three wheels (which by the way, three wheels at low speeds are inherently more stable than two, the opposite is true at high speeds) on a very narrow road with lots of switch backs. I nearly died, again. So, after finally coming to a complete stop, I spat on my break drum and sure enough I hear the sizzle that means heat and see the steam. I pour water on it and begin to think. Then, I spy a stout piece of pine branch and get an idea. It is just about the right length and with a little toying around I am able to lever it under the bike so that is drags constantly, and if I pull up on it, it drags a lot! Excellent! So down I go once more. It is working pretty well, I use the wheel break to negotiate turns and the branch to keep me at a reasonable speed. All is well, until I stop. While slugging down some refreshing water I smell something, smoke. I look around and see nothing, then the though occurs to me. So I look at my pine branch and sure enough, it is smoldering. Well, shoot. So much for using that as a break, I keep this up and will soon be moving like my butt's on fire!
So I dowse that with some water and go looking again. In the end I settle on what I think is a nice green piece of birch, about as big as my wrist. For the rest of the cruise down the mountain I have no problems. Until I reach the bottom of the mountain. I inquire as to the address of the friend I am aiming to stay with and the man point to the top of the next mountain. ABSOLUTELY NOT! I didn't say it out loud but I thought it. So I text and call Ms. Abby Chrystal and she agrees to come the 5 miles to rescue me in her Yaris. Ohhh! What a Godsend!
To be continued.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
So after I left Vacaville, I headed straight to San Bruno where I meet up with a young man named Mike. Mike was selling something I had been wanting for a couple years now. I had actually planned on building one as soon as I had a couple of weeks to dedicate in my dad's shop. Good old dad has all the tools and all the experience to make just about anything. However, I am still several thousand miles away from Dad's shop, so when Mike showed interest in letting me have this contraption for such a low price, I got pretty excited.
That's right ladies and gentlemen, I am going to cover 500 miles on a hand crank tricycle.
Some minor cosmetic damage on the chain guard. Hand brake and shifter located in the center.
All Shimano parts, 21 speeds and looking very new.
From the front you can see the foot rests. It seems a lot longer from this angle.
From the back. Under the seat there I have since added a small window sill planter. I added a few holes to drain water and to zip-tie it on to the frame. It is mostly to hold my water, map and a few other things. For the most part, my bags strap on to the seat pretty well.
Me before the trip. As you can see I have a hard time walking past all the millions of Chinese restaurants without stopping in for a few dumplings. Lest see how I look in a few weeks.
Tomorrow I will take the train down about 25 miles south to start my journey. I'm not really keen on navigating San Francisco on my first day, nor am I interested in spending the next day so sore I can't breath.
So, that is the program. Tomorrow I hope to be celebrating my first day with a cold beer at the house of my good friend Mr. Chadwick C. Conway's house, who has been kind enough to offer me a place to collapse and lick my wounds from the day's ride.
Anyone who is interested in joining me for a day or two of cycling, just let me know. Also, anyone who would like to purchase this awesome tri-wheel upper body workout form of locamotion should contact me as soon as you can. I am posting it on CraigsList today.
In anticipation, agony, and ambivilance
Dave
Tomorrow I will take the train down about 25 miles south to start my journey. I'm not really keen on navigating San Francisco on my first day, nor am I interested in spending the next day so sore I can't breath.
So, that is the program. Tomorrow I hope to be celebrating my first day with a cold beer at the house of my good friend Mr. Chadwick C. Conway's house, who has been kind enough to offer me a place to collapse and lick my wounds from the day's ride.
Anyone who is interested in joining me for a day or two of cycling, just let me know. Also, anyone who would like to purchase this awesome tri-wheel upper body workout form of locamotion should contact me as soon as you can. I am posting it on CraigsList today.
In anticipation, agony, and ambivilance
Dave
Saturday, June 8, 2013
So this time I got really lazy aaaaaand China doesn't like blogspot so I haven't posted squat. In other news; I am now in Vacaville California with a good friend from high school, Dominick Severance. We just enjoyed two very awesome cigars, Legends so the label says, and half a bottle of Black Label. We have discussed politics, a lot of law, marriage, travels, economics, cigars, sex, more law, and a bit of theology. Not a bad afternoon. It is now 2:00 am and I am beat. Tomorrow I go to purchase a bicycle and start and epic adventure down the coast of California. If anyone is so inclined, you are welcome to join me.
More to come, but I need some sleep.
More to come, but I need some sleep.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Well, I apparently got lazy, sorry for the delay. After arriving at my new home I put a lot of work in trying to keep construction and maintenance in line, as seen by the pictures in my last post. Things went well enough for a while, but then I started having trouble with the Head Master (principal).
Here is sorta kinda the short break down of how things went more or less. Fr. Tony is the director of the school. He is an American Jesuit, lives at the school, does nearly all the fundraising single handed, does his best to continue to interact with the students, tries to keep construction on track, makes plans for where the school is going and keeps a record of where it has been. In short, Ocer is his vision and its life is his mission. Without Fr. Tony at the helm, Ocer would never have become a reality and would surely crash upon the rocks should he leave.
Sailing along with my ship analogy, we have Fr. Jim, Fr. Tony's first mate so to say. Fr. Jim is the technical man. He reviews designs, plans infrastructure, orders materials, hires workers, and ultimately make most of the spending decisions. Unfortunately he is not here all the time. He has to divide his efforts between this building project and another one in Kenya. So, I have become a fill in more or less for Fr. Jim when he isn't around. I spend a lot of time trying to inspect the buildings (though I really have no idea what I'm doing and what real authority I have) and fighting fires. I fix water mains, repair doors, fix engines, install solar panels, repair lights and other such odds and ends. Endless work, but enjoyable for the most part. Especially since Francis, a young local guy, is learning to do all this stuff as my apprentice. He is sharp and hard working.
Now here is the major kicker. While Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim are more or less the sail and rudder of the ship, they don't get to choose all of there crew. The school administration is chosen by the provincial, head Jesuit of the region. This is where we get a lot of trouble. The provincial doesn't see any of the day to day activities and doesn't have any grasp of the awesome and amazing vision that Fr. Tony has for the school. Nor does he see the fantastic potential of what Ocer could be. He basis his decision for school administration on something else. I can speculate as to what, but in the end it doesn't matter.
So the school ends up with a Head Master and Deputy Head Master who are Jesuit brothers, as well educated as East Africa can provide and have no idea the incredible potential they have in there hands. They grew up in the East African education system, that is all they know and that is all they are willing to work with. Ocer receives 5 or so volunteers each summer, college students who are on there way to teaching degrees, or we even get people who are professional teachers from the states willing to volunteer for a year or more and they are not allowed to teach any classes. I would imagine this is because the HM doesn't understand their teaching style, but more importantly he doesn't control them directly. So it is better to not have them teach.
The end result is this. Eight million U.S. dollar and counting have been put towards Ocer Campion Jesuit College and as of the time I left, March 2012, the students were not receiving any better an education than the public schools 5 miles down the road. While at Ocer I was still teaching at one of the public schools (Trinity College) and I can tell you that if you took the top 80 sophomores from Trinity and put them against the 80 sophomores from Ocer, it would be a wash.
How can this be?!?! Ocer has more resources, they are private so they don't have to follow the inane Ugandan curriculum and they get to choose the best and the brightest students from all over the region and yet they can't even out perform Trinity, a mediocre public school? Simple, the HM, the administration, the teachers aren't using the resources well. They are simply meeting the status quo that they grew up with. The Ugandan curriculum is still used, school funds are used to buy uniforms instead of books, "teaching" still means copying verbatim on the chalk board from the teachers notes (notes that he or she made when in high school), "learning" still means copying verbatim from the chalk board into the students notes.
If the East African education system is so good, I ponder to the HM, then why is it that the Jesuits are needed to come in and reform it? Why is it no one comes to Africa for higher education? Well, that was my mistake. Challenging the African big man, just as I wound up doing in Padibe, got me nowhere. All it got me was an enemy. So after suffering through the misery of watching the HM and other school administrators take something beautiful and turn it into shit for a couple of months, I lost heart. I couldn't do it. Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim have a level of serenity and peace that I can't imagine. It makes me cry sometimes to think how little vision the HM has and how that will so easily destroy the vision Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim have.
This came to a head when the HM told Francis, not asked but told him, to cut up a $200+ door in the dormitory so that the students could be served food from behind the door like prisoners. "Why?" might you ask. Well, because the students, as kids do, get to goofing around waiting to be served their beans and as it happens some of them got bumped into the pot and burned themselves. Now, instead of reprimanding the students for horsing around and instead of assigning a teacher or other faculty to supervise, the HM would rather have $200+ of infrastructure altered so that our students could be fed like prisoners, from behind bars. I lost it. In no uncertain terms I told him he was foolish and that he has no authority over the infrastructure of the school. If he wants something changed then he must go through me. He is not to order Francis around as Francis is under my payroll, not his. Well, I just picked a fight that I couldn't win. If for no other reason than because I was leaving soon and the HM was there to stay. So I said enough is enough. I spent the next week or so doing what I could to help Georg, a Jesuit volunteer from Germany, learn everything he would need to replace me. I called it quits lest I find a stout ruler and give the HM a traditional Jesuit education.
The next week, I went to KLA to finish my close of service procedures then got on a plane for Thailand. I was sad, but so relieved. I wouldn't have to lay in bed at night fuming over how asinine people are and how little I could do about it.
Not the happiest post, but I got some more thoughts on my African life coming.
Here is sorta kinda the short break down of how things went more or less. Fr. Tony is the director of the school. He is an American Jesuit, lives at the school, does nearly all the fundraising single handed, does his best to continue to interact with the students, tries to keep construction on track, makes plans for where the school is going and keeps a record of where it has been. In short, Ocer is his vision and its life is his mission. Without Fr. Tony at the helm, Ocer would never have become a reality and would surely crash upon the rocks should he leave.
Sailing along with my ship analogy, we have Fr. Jim, Fr. Tony's first mate so to say. Fr. Jim is the technical man. He reviews designs, plans infrastructure, orders materials, hires workers, and ultimately make most of the spending decisions. Unfortunately he is not here all the time. He has to divide his efforts between this building project and another one in Kenya. So, I have become a fill in more or less for Fr. Jim when he isn't around. I spend a lot of time trying to inspect the buildings (though I really have no idea what I'm doing and what real authority I have) and fighting fires. I fix water mains, repair doors, fix engines, install solar panels, repair lights and other such odds and ends. Endless work, but enjoyable for the most part. Especially since Francis, a young local guy, is learning to do all this stuff as my apprentice. He is sharp and hard working.
Now here is the major kicker. While Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim are more or less the sail and rudder of the ship, they don't get to choose all of there crew. The school administration is chosen by the provincial, head Jesuit of the region. This is where we get a lot of trouble. The provincial doesn't see any of the day to day activities and doesn't have any grasp of the awesome and amazing vision that Fr. Tony has for the school. Nor does he see the fantastic potential of what Ocer could be. He basis his decision for school administration on something else. I can speculate as to what, but in the end it doesn't matter.
So the school ends up with a Head Master and Deputy Head Master who are Jesuit brothers, as well educated as East Africa can provide and have no idea the incredible potential they have in there hands. They grew up in the East African education system, that is all they know and that is all they are willing to work with. Ocer receives 5 or so volunteers each summer, college students who are on there way to teaching degrees, or we even get people who are professional teachers from the states willing to volunteer for a year or more and they are not allowed to teach any classes. I would imagine this is because the HM doesn't understand their teaching style, but more importantly he doesn't control them directly. So it is better to not have them teach.
The end result is this. Eight million U.S. dollar and counting have been put towards Ocer Campion Jesuit College and as of the time I left, March 2012, the students were not receiving any better an education than the public schools 5 miles down the road. While at Ocer I was still teaching at one of the public schools (Trinity College) and I can tell you that if you took the top 80 sophomores from Trinity and put them against the 80 sophomores from Ocer, it would be a wash.
How can this be?!?! Ocer has more resources, they are private so they don't have to follow the inane Ugandan curriculum and they get to choose the best and the brightest students from all over the region and yet they can't even out perform Trinity, a mediocre public school? Simple, the HM, the administration, the teachers aren't using the resources well. They are simply meeting the status quo that they grew up with. The Ugandan curriculum is still used, school funds are used to buy uniforms instead of books, "teaching" still means copying verbatim on the chalk board from the teachers notes (notes that he or she made when in high school), "learning" still means copying verbatim from the chalk board into the students notes.
If the East African education system is so good, I ponder to the HM, then why is it that the Jesuits are needed to come in and reform it? Why is it no one comes to Africa for higher education? Well, that was my mistake. Challenging the African big man, just as I wound up doing in Padibe, got me nowhere. All it got me was an enemy. So after suffering through the misery of watching the HM and other school administrators take something beautiful and turn it into shit for a couple of months, I lost heart. I couldn't do it. Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim have a level of serenity and peace that I can't imagine. It makes me cry sometimes to think how little vision the HM has and how that will so easily destroy the vision Fr. Tony and Fr. Jim have.
This came to a head when the HM told Francis, not asked but told him, to cut up a $200+ door in the dormitory so that the students could be served food from behind the door like prisoners. "Why?" might you ask. Well, because the students, as kids do, get to goofing around waiting to be served their beans and as it happens some of them got bumped into the pot and burned themselves. Now, instead of reprimanding the students for horsing around and instead of assigning a teacher or other faculty to supervise, the HM would rather have $200+ of infrastructure altered so that our students could be fed like prisoners, from behind bars. I lost it. In no uncertain terms I told him he was foolish and that he has no authority over the infrastructure of the school. If he wants something changed then he must go through me. He is not to order Francis around as Francis is under my payroll, not his. Well, I just picked a fight that I couldn't win. If for no other reason than because I was leaving soon and the HM was there to stay. So I said enough is enough. I spent the next week or so doing what I could to help Georg, a Jesuit volunteer from Germany, learn everything he would need to replace me. I called it quits lest I find a stout ruler and give the HM a traditional Jesuit education.
The next week, I went to KLA to finish my close of service procedures then got on a plane for Thailand. I was sad, but so relieved. I wouldn't have to lay in bed at night fuming over how asinine people are and how little I could do about it.
Not the happiest post, but I got some more thoughts on my African life coming.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
New Home
So after my a month and a half of touring around Uganda, I contacted the director of Ocer Campion Jesuit College (OCJC), a high school just outside of Gulu in northern Uganda. You can check out all the work that is going on there at http://ocer.adventuredock.com/. I had known of the school for a while and had even visited a few months before I had to leave the village. The reason I wanted to come here is because they are building. The school is far from finished, infrastructure wise, and that would give me ample opportunity to put some of my $180,000 education to work.
The director put me to work immediately on several projects. Wiring up some security lights and street lights. Adjusting and evaluating the solar systems. Extending and correcting the plumbing. Helping with the dam to create a big pond. Most importantly, watching over the builders to make sure they aren't cutting corners and to keep them on schedule. This is going to take a bit to explain so hold on tight.
First, the school is not using the traditional building method of burnt mud bricks. The burnt mud bricks are cheap, but they are basically Styrofoam filler in an otherwise cement wall. They use an inch or more of mortar on all sides of the bricks because they are not uniform at all. Getting a level course is damn near impossible. The bricks themselves can just about be broken with your bare hands. Not only this, but it takes an enormous amount of fire wood to cook the bricks. In the last ten years, Uganda has lost almost 40% of its forest. Trees are on a serious decline. Add this in with how expensive (both in dollars and environmental effects) cement is and the traditional building method is crap. Plus the buildings fall down in a decade or two.
So OCJC is using interlocking stabilized soil blocks (issb). These issb's are pretty sweet. They use a hydraulic press to compress sandy soil with a little clay and cement mix. The result can be seen here: http://www.hydraform.com/ImageGallery/Index.asp?IGImageCategory=Walls+and+Stables. In the end, it is cheaper to use the issb system because you don't use any mortar between the issb's or cover the inside and outside with mortar like they do with traditional burnt bricks. It ends up saving you about 30% of the over all cost. So it looks like some engineers do get to play with Legos when they grow up.
But that brings to the builders. Unfortunately the issb's have only recently been introduced to Uganda so not a lot of people know how to lay the blocks properly. So the school hired a construction crew out of the capital city to come and do the work. In my opinion they are gouging the school really bad. For every person I see working, I see another literally sleeping on the job. No shame, no effort to hide, just flat out on his back snoring. It isn't really allowed, but no one does anything to stop it, except me. Only, I don't really have the power to dock wages or fire anyone so I end up being all bark and no bite. I'm working on that though.
We just finished, for the most part, putting up the classrooms and are now working on the boys dormitory. In Uganda, it is quite common for secondary schools to be boarding. The girls dorm was already finished when I arrived. At the moment, we have only the freshmen and sophomores because the school just opened three years ago and we are taking in one class at a time. Most of the girls dormitory is empty so I get to have one of the prefect's rooms. It is convenient and the layout of the dorm keeps me pretty separate from the girls. I moved in all my bamboo shelves, the bed was already there and the door has a lock. So now I'm all set. Oh, and living on campus means I get to eat with the students. My diet isn't all that varied, but I don't care so long as I don't have to cook. Mostly beans and cornmeal with rice on some days and meat usually once a week. Compared to other schools, we are living pretty high on the hog.
Well, there is a lot more to explain but we just had two rain showers back to back in the middle of the dry season. It is both a relief and a curse. Relief because the heat and dust were killing us and we were running out of water. Curse because right now the mosquitoes are eating me alive. Time to crawl under my mosquito net and read "Lies Across America." Excellent book by the way, but if you are interested in it then I would suggest "Lies My Teacher Told Me" first.
While I've been writing all this, I've also been letting some pictures load. I hope this helps to shape my descriptions into something comprehensible.
The director put me to work immediately on several projects. Wiring up some security lights and street lights. Adjusting and evaluating the solar systems. Extending and correcting the plumbing. Helping with the dam to create a big pond. Most importantly, watching over the builders to make sure they aren't cutting corners and to keep them on schedule. This is going to take a bit to explain so hold on tight.
First, the school is not using the traditional building method of burnt mud bricks. The burnt mud bricks are cheap, but they are basically Styrofoam filler in an otherwise cement wall. They use an inch or more of mortar on all sides of the bricks because they are not uniform at all. Getting a level course is damn near impossible. The bricks themselves can just about be broken with your bare hands. Not only this, but it takes an enormous amount of fire wood to cook the bricks. In the last ten years, Uganda has lost almost 40% of its forest. Trees are on a serious decline. Add this in with how expensive (both in dollars and environmental effects) cement is and the traditional building method is crap. Plus the buildings fall down in a decade or two.
So OCJC is using interlocking stabilized soil blocks (issb). These issb's are pretty sweet. They use a hydraulic press to compress sandy soil with a little clay and cement mix. The result can be seen here: http://www.hydraform.com/ImageGallery/Index.asp?IGImageCategory=Walls+and+Stables. In the end, it is cheaper to use the issb system because you don't use any mortar between the issb's or cover the inside and outside with mortar like they do with traditional burnt bricks. It ends up saving you about 30% of the over all cost. So it looks like some engineers do get to play with Legos when they grow up.
But that brings to the builders. Unfortunately the issb's have only recently been introduced to Uganda so not a lot of people know how to lay the blocks properly. So the school hired a construction crew out of the capital city to come and do the work. In my opinion they are gouging the school really bad. For every person I see working, I see another literally sleeping on the job. No shame, no effort to hide, just flat out on his back snoring. It isn't really allowed, but no one does anything to stop it, except me. Only, I don't really have the power to dock wages or fire anyone so I end up being all bark and no bite. I'm working on that though.
We just finished, for the most part, putting up the classrooms and are now working on the boys dormitory. In Uganda, it is quite common for secondary schools to be boarding. The girls dorm was already finished when I arrived. At the moment, we have only the freshmen and sophomores because the school just opened three years ago and we are taking in one class at a time. Most of the girls dormitory is empty so I get to have one of the prefect's rooms. It is convenient and the layout of the dorm keeps me pretty separate from the girls. I moved in all my bamboo shelves, the bed was already there and the door has a lock. So now I'm all set. Oh, and living on campus means I get to eat with the students. My diet isn't all that varied, but I don't care so long as I don't have to cook. Mostly beans and cornmeal with rice on some days and meat usually once a week. Compared to other schools, we are living pretty high on the hog.
Well, there is a lot more to explain but we just had two rain showers back to back in the middle of the dry season. It is both a relief and a curse. Relief because the heat and dust were killing us and we were running out of water. Curse because right now the mosquitoes are eating me alive. Time to crawl under my mosquito net and read "Lies Across America." Excellent book by the way, but if you are interested in it then I would suggest "Lies My Teacher Told Me" first.
While I've been writing all this, I've also been letting some pictures load. I hope this helps to shape my descriptions into something comprehensible.
Dude putting together the re-bar for the wall beam of the boys dorm
That giant hole will be an underground cistern for rainwater. Roughly 20' across and 15' deep. It ought to hold about 15,000 gallons. However, 300 students will still make short work of that during the dry season.
George, a volunteer with the Jesuits from Germany, and the construction bosses
Finishing up the classrooms. It is a square with a round hut (soon to be thatched with grass) and under the hut is the rain cistern, just like the dorms only smaller
Just outside the classrooms
The boys dorm will have a urinal, latrine, bathing area, and washing area separate from the sleeping areas. These are the foundations of such. The owner of the construction company is Lawrence in the kaki shirt, his right hand man Moses is in the blue jumper, and George.
Finishing up the walls. The blocks stack together so easily. As long as you keep things level, one man can lay 1000+ blocks in a day. Well, that also assumes you can keep him awake and working.
Cistern getting deeper
Common work practice: everything stops to say good morning, ask about work, ask about home, ask about kids, ask about crops, ask about the weather, and ask about extended family. Its actually a very nice practice and helps to keep the community strong, but it sure can get frustrating when you want to get stuff done.
I like working with the women the most. They are usually more dedicated, hard working, and willing to learn than the men. Part of that is because they are accustomed to taking direction much more than men in African society.
Hut (soon to be thatched) and water tank for the girls dorm. The cistern is also under the hut just like the boys dorm. The boys and girls dorms will be just about identical. You can see a small water pump for getting the water out of the cistern.
Just outside of the girls dorm. When we have freshmen through seniors living here, all the rooms will be full of girls. I will not be living here at that time, praise the Lord.
Just outside the classrooms
Fire in the distance and a storm coming to put it out.
This is the scene 3 - 5 days a week at 4:00 pm during the rainy season. Amazing!
More blocks. I love Legos!
This shows how the blocks lock together, both vertically and horizontally.
Got to cover the blocks as they cure so they don't dry too fast. Too fast and they crumble.
This is the shop, the place I call home during day light hours.
This is Ojok Francis, the carpenter whom I work with nearly everyday. One of the few men I've meet who is nearly as concerned with learning new skill as he is with getting paid. He's quick and hard working. I would say he is my apprentice, but he has taught me far more than I have taught him.
Just outside the shop
Tool room on the right, office in the middle, loft up above where we keep all the big stuff, pvc pipe, sewage line, lumber and such.
I climbed up the water tower we have and snapped a lot of pictures. Right below is the solar array that runs the pump that fills the water tower. The solar array tracks the sun, its a really nice set up.
Far left is the temporary shower room for the boys while we finish their dorm, middle is the toilet, and the far right is the corner of the shop.
Shop, the four tanks on the corners each hold about 3,500 gallons which then feed the buildings down hill with running water for everything but drinking. The water tower gets ground water from 100' down. We get it tested every year and it's what we drink.
Far right is the roof of the boys temporary dorm. It will become classrooms when the dorm is finished.
Down the hill towards the left are the classrooms, on the right is part of the boys toilets
Far down the hill on the right is the girls dorm, just up from that is the Jesuit's house. That is where the priests and brothers live. The nuns live in an apartment that is part of the girls dorm.
Far center is the construction of the boys dorm.
Neighbor's house and cows. They are pretty well off, that is how they were able to afford donating the land that the school is being built on. Their cows are even part Holstein, that is a major sign of wealth.
Neighbors
Top of boys temporary dorm
Road headed to the nearest trading center (group of shops and houses) called Unyama. It'a about 2 miles away.
Other neighbors, they are all related though. Cousin brother's wife's sister's mother-in-law's aunt.
Nice house, very cool during the dry season. It costs about $40 to build a house like this, and that is if you hire someone to help you. Usually you just get family and neighbors to help out, then when they go to build a house you return the favor.
Eucalyptus trees grow straight and fast, sell for good lumber or telephone poles and repel mosquitoes. The downside is that they soak up water like it's their job and will quickly dry up your soil. It is best to plant them in swamps that you want to dry up, or in dry areas where other trees won't grow and you can't farm anyway.
Storm blew itself out before it got to us. Good thing too, cause half way up this water tower was a small wasp nest, so I wasn't going to make it down the ladder until some one gave me a pole to knock down their nest.
And that's all for now. I'll add words soon. I don't have any more pictures.
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