The Points

I was conversing with the female member of my parental unit on the phone the other day and she told me that people were interested in hearing about how I am getting from point A to B and then to C etc. Not just a quick word about a train or bus here or there, but a fairly detailed and interesting account of the actual processes, mental and physical, which go into a jump on the map. And since I always listen to my mother, I will attempt to do that.. for you.. just now.

It’s a funny thing, choosing where to go next and just how to get there. The process we use is admittedly not a normal process or, I would say, even a recommended one. The first overriding factor in all our decision making so far has been to get from Cape to Cape roughly by the route we have posted on our site, but if you’ve looked at a map recently, you will notice that that leaves a lot of room for variation.  The second base desire that controls and shapes every decision we make like a giant girdle of green can be summed up in a single question that we find ourselves often asking: “How much does it cost?”

When one attempts to do a trip of the scale that we are attempting AND one also has acute cash flow restrictions, the answer to above said question becomes direly important. I would NOT say that we are losing any sleep over problems like cash flow, because I don’t think that either of us are especially prone to that sort of worry, but conscientiousness is definitely required.

I would say that the biggest problem that Bjorn and I have when it comes to deciding between two modes of transportation or two towns is that both of us are flexible in the extreme. We can both see the value of either plan. We could probably both effectively argue a case for either side, and after the decision is made, we can both convince ourselves with well-constructed thought processes that the decision we came to was indeed the best and right thing. Indeed sometimes we take opposing sides in a debate just for the spirit of it, but when it comes down to it, we could be just as happy either way. It HAS actually come to flipping a coin on one occasion and paper-rock-scissors has been employed several times, however it usually just ask how much it cost and go with the cheapest. We’re learning to just make decisions more quickly and go with them. It’s good to be able to do that, but it’s hard… we love our options.

Now I will attempt to connect the dots on the map for you. You have heard random stories here and there from here or there, but I would like to connect the whole western hemisphere segment of our journey in one extended bit of prose. I will not dwell on the events that transpired at any one place, but rather how we got from A to B, as it were.  So get out your maps and sextants, invite Magellan over, or log yourself onto google earth. Here we go.

Point A – Ushuaia, Argentina.

From here we took a bus to Rio Gallegos. Then immediately jumped on another bus to San Carlos de Bariloche. That was my first experience with marathon bus travel. It was intense, which is close to incense, which I could have used by the end of that bus trip. We then bussed from there to Mendoza and up to Salta, just north of which we crossed into Bolivia. We took a train to the Salar de Uyuni which, at night, was the coldest place I have yet been on this trip I believe (Alaska is close) brrrr. We then rode buses all the way through La Paz and Cusco to Lima. It was at this point that we flipped a coin which landed tails. That meant that we took a bus all the way from Lima, Peru through Ecuador to Bogota Columbia. This bus ride made the first “marathon” ride look like a community fun run. We were nearing the coast by this time and time was coming to change modes of transport… and continents, so we hopped on a sail boat in Cartagena and popped over to Panama.

Point B – Panama City, Panama

It was back on the bus from Panama to Nicaragua, where we surfed for a week or so. At this point we started using “real” buses. The famed chicken-bus “system” of Central America was a true cultural gem of an experience. In Nicaragua, Bjorn and I parted ways momentarily and he proceeded to bus all the way from Managua to Loma Linda’s doorstep, which is no small feat even for a traveling dynamo such as Bjorn. I decided to extend my tour in Central America with a couple weeks visit to my friend in Guatemala, but to get there from Guatemala I opted for the little used hitch-hiking-with-truckers route. Both the thumbing and the visit were packed with boundless excitement and merriment, but quicker than the shake of a twisted whisker I was off again. This time on a steel horse I rode across the mighty expanses of Mexico, running for the border on a 1987 Kawasaki 550 LTD I picked up in Guatemala. My destination was Loma Linda, my time was short, my butt bore the consequences.

Point C – Loma Linda, CA

After nearly melting on highway 10, I roared into the fair village of Loma Linda and the good company of good friends and good family. Bjorn met me there and we feasted like warrior kings, returning festooned with victory wreaths from a glorious battle (not quite, but the image is striking no?). A large part of the feasting was courtesy of IN–N-OUT Burger and for good reason. If heaven has a burger joint, I think it will have to be just a little bit like IN-N-OUT. 2 Animal style grill cheese with an order fries please, that’s all I have to say.

It was in the venerable city of Redlands that we purchased our faithful steed known only as “The Sunbeam” for a spine tingling $800. I don’t accurately remember who christened her, but credit goes to Brenden Matus for ensuring that the name stuck. From Loma Linda we drove this car through Yosemite, Sacramento, San Francisco, to the coastal highway and on this majestic corridor of the gods we traveled up the coast all the way to Seattle. As we journeyed, we were doused and soaked to the bone with hospitality the likes of which, in all probability, was not fully justified, but greatly appreciated.

Point D – Seattle, WA

Fully encrusted in wonderment for the Pacific northwest, we journeyed northward into the great land of Canada. Some would call it “America’s Tophat,” but I would have to say that they’d be a bit off in their description. It’s more like the sweet, white filling between America’s two Oreo cookie sides. Only the top side (Alaska) has been broken partially off in an Oreo twist competition. I believe THAT is a fairly accurate description. And sweet it was, as we drove north, the scenery just increased in the scope of its beauty and majesty.

Point E – Alaska

Then… it was Alaska. Alaska of the Jack London tails, “raw and raked, wild and free.” By that time the grip had fully tightened on my soul. The place has a primitive lure veiled in thin mists, dense pine forests, and mountains of Homeric proportions. It appeals to some sacred part of me in a way that cannot be expounded upon, only felt in the base parts of the being. Alaska is a place that must be experienced with a quite solemnity if its value is to be fully reckoned. I will be in this place again.

Abundant hospitality was again bestowed on us in Alaska by Alex and Brittany Martinez and Alex’s mother Brenda. We stayed at their house while we looked into the possibility of crossing the great Pacific on a boat. No boat was found after nearly two weeks of exhaustive searching and so we set our sights southward again.

In Anchorage we sadly parted ways with the Sunbeam for a tighty profit that covered the expense of our fuel for the whole car trip. We then hitched a ride with some friends to the port of Haines in south eastern Alaska, and because of a generous offer from Bjorn’s uncle Drew, we now find ourselves partaking in the indelibly awesome experience that is the Alaska marine highway system.

As I sit in the recliner lounge aboard the Alaskan ferry Malaspina and listen to the fog horn wail its mournful bass through the mist, a blessed feeling creeps up my spine from the pit of my stomach and tingles my neck. I feel infinitely thankful for the opportunity to be sitting here where I am and for the people that have shared of themselves and their resources to make the experience just that much better. Thanks you.

-Weaveroftales