Whoa!! Bear!!

Whoa Bear No 02
Originally uploaded by adolfo_isassi (back from Alaska)

During this trip, we have hikes and camped in way too many places where Bears are a concern. Thus, we have read, seen, heard all sorts of bear stories, warning, descriptions on "what to do" and "what not to do" in case we encounter one.

We also became familiar with all sorts of bear related supplies: Bear sprays, bear bells, bear cans.

There are all sorts of suggestions and theories on how to avoid bears in the first place while hiking. All of these involve making some sort of noise.

Bear bells are popular with some people...mostly naive tourists visiting the area. Some locals think that the Bear Bells are for bears like a call saying "Diner is ready!! Come and get it!!"

But the suggestion that make the most indelible impression with us, was to shout:

"Whoa! Bear!"

We got this one while watching a mandatory video for anyone applying for a backcountry camping permit at Denali National Park.

After watching this video (we thought that it was funny) every time we hike we start the hike with a loud "Whoa!! Bear!!"

After doing this a lot....we have adopted the expression for all kind of moments....
like when we see something with a high sticker price: Whoa!! Bear!!

Or when we see a beautiful unexpected scene: Whoa!! Bear!!

On this photo...this is probably the closest we got to a Bear. It was a big Grizzly mama bear fishing on the shores of the Valdez Bay. There were so many people trying to get a shot of her...that she was scared and running away from humans.

Probably shouting "Whoa!! Humans!!

Eeeek! & Yheeew!

While resting and chilling on the shores of La Conner, Washington, we were lap-topping away on our respective blogs when a rumbling scratching sound came from the area where we have our trash can.

The sound had the ominous and distinctive signature of an animal roaming through the trash.
We both look at each other with the same expression:

-- OM F**** G -- How in hell did some critter get in there?

We went into DEFCON mode with some sticks and brooms in hand...prepared to open the door that hides the trash can and....

A little gray mouse jumped out. It was too small for all that racket, never the less, we started to chase it around the trailer, attempting to push it out of the door.
Eventually our three-stooges like efforts failed and the darn thing jumped into the main plumbing/electrical compartment behind the kitchen counter.

Well...
The good news is that there is only one way out of there as long as we do not open any cabinet or door.
The bad news is that there is only one way out of there as long as we do not open any cabinet or door.

At this point Vicky recalled and recoiled with horror while saying:

"Remember last night, when I woke up saying that I felt that something walking on my head, and you said...'Oh! It was probably a mosquito.' It was that darn mouse!!! Yheew!"

We blocked that access hole and I drove to the nearest hardware store in search of mouse traps.
With my trusty iPhone + GPS MotionX, I found a nearby ACE Hardware store.

There, I was presented with an array of choices for mice doom.
From the classic sprig loaded mouse trap, to boxes that looked like mice inviting condos with chemical poisons inside....hey just like human condos.

I decided to go classic with 4 loaded spring traps, and 4 sticky traps as backups.

Back at the trailer, we baited the traps with cheese and peanut butter (Vicky's Dad's recipe!).
We distributed the traps along the enclosed area behind the kitchen and...waited.

Within 30 min, the little SOB had fallen into one of the sticky straps. We heard the flopping and scratchy sounds right away.

We went to take a look and it was a sad, sorry scene. The poor little bastard was so cute, yet I hated his cute little guts for invading our trailer. And the darn thing was still alive and moving like crazy. I grabbed another sticky trap and put it on top of the mouse. Now it looked like a sandwich, but this allowed me to carry the sorry thing outside and put it out of its misery.

With a sigh of relief we went back to the trailer with plans to deep clean the whole thing with holy water for good measure.

But about 20 minutes later...."snap!!"
The snapping sound came from below one of the cabinets. Huh? Did one of the traps miss-fire or...No! another pinche mouse!

This time we went into panic mode.
Is the whole darn trailer infested? Where are these MOFOS coming from?

That night we peppered the trailer with more traps and slept with the bedroom door closed and sealed underneath with towels.
Vicky was freaked out...and as a joke, in the middle of the night, I ran my fingers over her hair and she jumped pretty good :)
The joke did not have the comic relief effect that I was shooting for.

But the next day, the traps were clean.
We proceeded to deep clean and exorcise the trailer and found no more traces of mice.

We started to figure out how they got in and recalled that we noticed that the Cascade National Park campground was filled with notoriously bad campers...the kind that have open food containers all over the place. In that place, we had a squirrel boldly jump on the steps and into the trailer looking for food. We figure that the same squirrel went and told the mice to come on in.

Anyway...lessons learned:

- Do not hold on to full trash cans inside the trailer for long. Empty them frequently.
- Sticky traps are better than spring loaded ones. You can move the trailer without triggering them

- Keep your trailer door closed, use the screen door.
- Do not be a messy camper. Keep a clean camp and a clean trailer.
- Keep food in plastic containers with lids rather than in boxes.

Sticky trap baited with cheese and peanut butter...deadly!

The perennial snack...

Vignette No 10
The perennial snack

It is hard to tell the gender of the person flagging traffic on the road, the choice of sunglasses and the refined nose holding them in place suggests that the person under the heavy construction clothes and bright colored overcoats is a woman. As I slow down next to her, I notice that next to her work boots lays a big lunch box and a bag of snacks. It is about 9AM and she is holding a stop sign in one hand and a snack in the other. I can see now that she is chewing as she tries to talk to the radio hanging from her shoulder. Her radio squawks something that prompts her to stop chewing and flip the stop sign to “Slow” and she motions me to move on.

About an hour after lunch time, I drive through the same busy “under repair” intersection again, and I meet the same flagger lady. This time, she is snaking and chewing something bigger, she is struggling to keep the “Stop” sign straight as she maneuvers the snacks from the bag in the floor to her mouth.

A couple of hours later, I drive by that spot again, and the snaking is still in full swing. All around the spot where she has been directing traffic all day, you can see crumbs delineating the dietary history of her day...and I start to realize that the clothing for this job along with her perennial snacking is quite fortunate.

Around Washington State...

Since we crossed back into the Lower 48, we have been hanging around northern Washington State.

We hit North Cascades National Park and the Olympic Peninsula.
What a beautiful area, the summer up here is pretty tame and almost cool.



In the Cascades mountains we hiked our brains out. We did a couple of long hikes. Eight and ten miles respectively. The hardest one was to Cascade Pass, it was both brutal and rewarding. The views from up there were spectacular.



After this, we drove to the coast to recover from the intensive hikes in the mountains.
We hit a couple of nice spots: Birch Bay and La Conner.






After chilling in these spots, we were ready to resume hiking duties at Olympic National Park.



Check the growing collection of the best photos of the tour so far!

Buy, Buy & Pray, Pray

Today we finally crossed the border back in the lower 48.

We had some death-long-8-hour-pulls in the last couple of days.
The area between Prince George and Kamloops in British Columbia Canada was plagued with wild forest fires, and although the Cariboo Route remained open, the local authorities were evacuating people with respiratory issues from this area. For this reason, we decided not to camp in this area and just drive through non-stop.



Close to the USA border, we started to get the shock of immersing ourselves in areas that now, after spending months up north, feel overpopulated.

For the first time in a long time, we hit a freeway:
"Look'hon! they have'em dang freeways down here!"


As soon as we crossed the border, I could not help to notice the overwhelming presence of signs for stores and churches: Buy, buy & pray, pray.

Time to update the playlist:

"Connected"

by Alabama 3

Forty days you've been tired and tempted,
Forty nights you've been out in the cold,
Every phoneline conversation's been intercepted,
And you can't reconnect 'cos the frequency is closed.

So many miles you've been out of direction,
So many signs but you ain't got nowhere to go.
Your cadillac's got it's lights disconnected,
Rolling your wheels down the wrong side of the road.

Can you see them now
Can you see them now
Can you see the sisters swinging?

Let's go back to church,
Let's go bakc to church,
So damn long since we sung the song,
Let's go back to church.

Let's go back to church,
Let's go bakc to church,
Anyday now, anyway anyhow,
Let's go back to church.

You drank the wine but it tastes like water.
You broke the bread but it had turned to stone.
Your sacrement it lay scattered on the pavement
The covenants you kept have all been stolen and sold.

But you can see them now
You can see them now
You can see the sisters swinging.
You can hear them now
You can hear them now
You can hear the brothers singing

Ghetto RV parks...

Besides the Gestapo style RV parks, I also have come to recognize another classification for RV parks:

Ghetto RV Parks.

These are the RV parks that layout camping spaces so tightly that they resemble a ghetto. When all the RVs are parked and with awnings extended, the scene looks like a refugee camp.

Some bonus amenities of these parks are the incredibly tight turns with dumpsters, posts and fences in every corner. When one tight corner lacks such obstacles, one of the RV park guests is always ready to park her/his tow car in the spot to make up for it.

Another feature of Ghetto style RV parks is that their camp spots are bare of trees, with full blast sun baking your rig. But the park is not totally free of trees. The existing trees are conveniently placed on turns, entrances and exits to make them as narrow as possible. Also, when a back-in space is too easy, a tree is placed in the right spot to hinder your chances of maneuvering scratch free.

As you sweat the inches around these parks, kids on bikes and scooters are swarming around you. When your tires hit a "bump" you pray that it is one of the many pot-holes and not a kid.
Although, ironically, after a couple of days at the park overpopulated with kids, you will wish that those "bumps" when you came in, were some of the kids.

We have stumbled onto these nightmarish RV parks when it is late, we need an overnight stop, and there are no freeloading prospects around.

Milepost nominated for pullitzer prize...

When we started our Alaskan journey, we (and by We I mean I) foolishly poo-pooed the Milepost as a superfluous reading , something akin to Road Side America for Canada and Alaska.

Wrong!

The Milepost turned out to be our Freeloading Bible and trip planner.
Armed with the Milepost, my wife finally won the GPS wars.
Now, I turn to her and ask:

"Honey, do I turn left or right? Quick! What does The Milepost say for God's sake!"

I know....unbelievable...the GPS unit now has such an inferiority complex that it now refuses to acquire satellite signals.

In the spirit of the Milepost being a "Bible" here we share our prayer:

Our Milepost, Who is in heaven,
Holy is Your Name;
Your mileage come,
Your direction be done,
in Alaska as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily freeloading,
and forgive us our missed turns,
as we forgive those who caravan in front of us;
and lead us not into temptation of paying for camping,
but deliver us from freeways. Amen.

Gestapo RV parks...

Have you been in one of those RV parks where when you register they hand you a ton of papers, where 90% are rules and regulations?

As we leave behind Alaska and Canadian territories (not provinces), our freeloading spree is coming to an abrupt end as we go back to densely populated areas.

Recently we pulled into what I designate now, a Gestapo RV park. One of those parks where you are handed a booklet of rules and regulations.

On top of the customary:
- No pets off-leash (hey....I like this one)
- No loud noises after 10PM

The gestapo park added a long list that started:
- Use blocks on all RV levelers
- No clotheslines to dry clothes
- No outside cooking
- No RV or vehicle maintenance
- No washing RVs or cars
- No hair dying in showers
- No photo uploading or downloading photos on our Wi-Fi
- No Skype or VoIP on our Wi-Fi
- ....

By this line I was throwing away the list and heading for the shower to take a long hot one and there....


Taped on the door a sign:
"Please keep your showers to 10 minutes or less"

What? OK...I guess in the spirit of conservation...OK.

While I was undressing, in front of the bench another sign:
"Please keep your shower time to 5 minutes"

What? What happened to 10 minutes?

Once I stepped into the shower stall, on one wall:
"Keep your shower time under 3 minutes"

OK, I thought, F*** this, I was willing to do the 10 minute thing, but now I will take as long as I want in this F***ing shower.

As if a mind reader detector picked up on my updated plans, the hot water rapidly started to go from tepid to cold to pneumonia style.

I had to jump out of the shower...sure enough under 3 minutes.

She takes shorthand...

Vignette No 9:
She takes shorthand

She is middle aged and overweight. It is hard to tell if she is always smiling, or if her lipstick is applied in a way that looks like a painted smile. She is quick to strike conversation, and as she does her eyes are like laser beams on you. As we talk, I notice that her hands are moving. She is holding a pen and pad and she is scribbling something, but she is not looking at the pad. As the conversation continues, I realize that she is taking shorthand. At this point I am not sure if she is recording our conversation, practicing this anachronistic skill, or what?

The conversation is fluttering around the subject of cities that have an unduly reputation of begin very nice, but in reality they are not that nice at all, as her short-hand scribing continues with no discernible pattern to guess its subject.

As I go through my list of fake-nice cities, I mention a particular city, and her shorthand stops. She asks why do I think that this last particular city is not nice. I realize that indeed, the shorthand was about our conversation, so I decide to open the flood gates of caustic commentary about this particular city, which at this point, I am guessing she is a current resident. I manage to fill the conversation with enough corrosive material to clog her shorthand, turn her lipstick into a frown and to make her excuse herself and leave the area. Now she knows my longhand for “please leave”.

X-Treme Freeloading...

So, the trip to Alaska got us initiated in the fine arts of freeloading.
Now, I look back at our first days as freeloaders in pupal stage with nostalgia. Long gone are the days where we were willing to pay for camping.

But we are still learning. I guess we are no longer junior freeloaders, soon to be seniors. My dream is to become a Jedi Freeloader...get to freeload in the parking lot of a police station using the reserved spaces, and in the morning, get asked if we need to refill our fresh water tank.

Last time we dry-camped for a long time, the challenge was to conserve our batteries.
Now, on this Alaskan freeloading spree, the challenge has been to conserve fresh water and to keep our gray water tank from filling up.

A fellow Airstreamer, Mark, introduced us to some techniques to deal with these issues.
First, he installed this gizmo on our sink faucet.



This little stick activates the water flow when it gets pushed sideways. This lets you leave the faucet open, and just use tiny portions of water, just what you need, instead of closing and opening the faucet every time. This has saved us lots of fresh water and keeps our gray water tank low.

The second technique involves having a plastic container under the kitchen faucet at all times. This container catches all the water. Later the water is used to wash dishes, then strained, and if the gray water is running high, dumped into the black water tank....which is the last one to ever fill.



The last trick we came up with involves carrying a gallon of water at all times. We use it to flush the toilet instead of using the fresh water tank and pump. This works better at flushing real good without using tons of water to get the "job done."



So there you have it, some simple tricks to get you started on the path to happy freeloading.

Just can't say good bye...

So....we were officially out of Alaska, on our way to the lower 48 via the Alcan Highway.
While free-loading in Whitehorse, we decided that going back in the Alcan was going to be boring. Especially the portion of Whitehorse to Dawson Creek.

So, on a whim, we decided to take the Cassiar....with a bit of apprehension, since we knew that this highway has rough portions and some unpaved ones. We rode for about 20 miles on it...and were about to turn around. It was a rough ride!

But we stuck to it and I am glad we did. This route is s-p-e-c-t-a-c-u-l-a-r.
Along the way, we had the opportunity to enter Alaska....again! A remote location in the south-eastern tip.

I think that some of the best photographs of Alaska, are going to come from this area.

We have not been updating blogs or checking email because this area is so remote that there is no cell signal nor internet. I am typing now from a WI-FI hot spot in a general store...quite charming.

In this area, my cell phone went from 1 bar, to "No Service", to "You gotta be kidding".

Well that is it from now, I will upload photos from this gorgeous area soon.