Nicaragua Missions Day 3
Our goal was to build 4 houses in 5 days and have three days of vacation bible school. It took us two days to build 4 houses, and we had just enough gumption and money to attempt another house for another family from a different church, not expecting a house. So while a crew dispersed to bend nails at the four houses we already finished and to give each of them a care package, we dropped a crew of five of us off to work on a new casa for our new friend. After two days and four houses,we had the process down pretty good, and thanks to our leader, Oscar, we were able to not only finish the house, we finished before noon. This included modifications to our normal design and plan. It was a true team effort, an efficient team.
looking in on the newest project
Remodel, restructure and build. No down time, lots of busy hands and busy feet.
A little girl from the home build doing her school.
And her brother
Me trying to look cool sporting a Blue's Clue's dew rag. I think I pulled it off.
Dwayne jumping in with both feet, literally, to get this concrete done!
The grateful proud family.
scenes from the long ride home
Nicarauga Missions
Today was the first full day of our Nicaragua mission trip. Yesterday was a full day of travel, 15 people, 30 + bags, a long bus ride, a long border visit and a longer bus ride to Managua. The Lord was watching over us at the border as the border guard only glanced at two of our bags, before sending us on our way, saving us a huge amount of time and hassle. Further, we had no problems getting our luggage on the bus, another common issue.
The road to Cristo Rey
this is where many of the kids "work"
Some local housing
Our home base for the week is a nice bunk-house called La Quinta Shalom. They specialize in providing housing and food for missions trips, and they are great hosts. The coffee is always on and they now have WIFI! Our missions mission on this trip is to build four houses for four families in an area near the dump.
Now I use the word house very loosely, because what we are building is an 11×11 concrete pad surrounded by pieces of tin, smaller than my shed. However, they are very humbled and happy to have anything that protects them from the rain better than the current cardboard and plastic bags and other pieces of trash adorning their current abodes.
The drive out to the location is an hour-long,eye-opening trip. The roads are swamped with vehicles, 2,4, and 6 lane highways, motorcycles, buses, crazy cars, and even the occasional horse and cart tramping Down the middle of the road. In amongst the roads are patches of green, and in those patches are families with mattresses and hammocks and the fortunate ones have a black trash bag to cover their heads. And this is just on the way to the dump.
waiting for his new house to be built
me and some of the local Nica girls who were watching the show
It is easy to tell when you are getting close to the dump as the roads , which are already smattered with trash, become more and more covered, until you pass fields that look like crops of colored cotton candy growing alongside the road. As you draw nearer you realize it is just fields of old plastic grocery bags. The neighborhood we were working in was a newly established area covered with minimal shelters, many us Americans would not feel good enough for our pets. Yet not only do they live in them, they are happy and feel fortunate to have them. They are pieced together with wood, tin, plastic and more trash collected from the nearby dump. Any severe wind or rain would render most of them useless.
After initial meetings and being introduced to the local pastor we broke up into two building teams and began to build. Our building plan was as follows: dig post holes, make a wood frame, slap on a tin roof, pour a concrete floor, slap on some tin walls, put in a door and give them the key. There is no key, because there is no lock because there is no door handle. It is a truly sobering and humbling experience to participate in.
Laying the concrete pad, back-breaking work
a kitchen
At lunch time I was fortunate to enjoy the daily lunch service the local church provides to 200 hungry kids. They reported to us that for most of these kids the lunch they provide is their only meal of the day. These people are true missionaries,living amongst those kids and feeding them every single day. The meal begins with a prayer in Spanish and is followed up with multi lingual worship songs while they eat their bowl of rice and fruit. The lunch room is a covered concrete pad adorned with colorful plastic tables and chairs in an attempt to brighten the hot and dusty atmosphere. But the stars of the meals are the kids themselves, ranging from 1-10. They are full of smiles, love to have their picture taken and love to hug you, hold your hand or just touch you. They are kids and they act like kids. But I was brought to tears by these kids. I was moved by the simple pleasure of having a hot meal at an actual table. Moved by the fact that they got to wash their hands. And truly moved to tears as older brothers and sisters, 4,5 or 6 years old spent their lunch time feeding their younger siblings, neglecting themselves. In those kids you could see it in their eyes, the need, the desire to be a kid, taken care of, fed and free to grow. It was those kids for which my spirit wept. They knew, they were not oblivious to the world around them, they knew that they lived among the truly poor in the world, scraping daily for a meal, praying for a way to stop the rain from dripping on their dirt floor, and praying mostly for their family. The burden of life was already written on their tiny tanned, mud streaked face, and it was impossible to hide.
many of the kids have stomach infections which causes bloating.
Although we finished two ” houses” today, heard testimony from both families that they prayed for this miracle, and one even saw a vision of a bunch of gringos coming to help her, despite all this the long bus ride home was a solemn quiet ride home. I couldn’t help but wonder how I could not help more, there is so much need, so much suffering and so much left to do. And as I impatiently waited for my turn in the shower to wash away the stink of the day, it struck me that most of, if not each and every person I saw today would not being taking a shower, and probably had never ever taken a shower. A simple refreshing way to wash away the worries of the day, a pleasure that most people reading this will have experienced with the last 12 hours. I think perhaps today my life was changed. I think perhaps my perspective has forever changed.
Tomorrow we will go and we will build two more houses, tomorrow we will conduct a kids Bible school and then we will come home and we will wash away the stink of the day.
Please take a minute to give thanks for all that you have and please take a minute to pray for those who have not, and pray for us that we may do more than we have set out to do, that we will make an eternal difference in not only our lives but theirs.
a finished house........
a grateful family
praying of the family and their new casa.
An Adventure at La Montana
This past weekend I was fortunate enough to participate in a men’s retreat adventure at La Montana near Arenal. We decided early on that since this event was strictly for men, the word retreat must be replaced with adventure. Perhaps a bit of a self- fulfilling prophecy.
Don testing out the bed, and practicing for soccer.
This coffee was stiff,cooked all day, black and awesome, welcoming us to camp.
our small group meeting
Mo happy we got some sheets and showing it!
Morning coffee, Mo, Mike and Dwayne
Pastor Lyle and Mo
The adventure started early, turning a normal 4 hour trip into a 7 hour adventure. The adventure peaked as darkness slid in on us near the end of our drive, accompanied by a thick wet fog. The kind of fog that sparkles and dances off your headlights putting the driver (me) into a trance. This was made even more perilous because we were venturing up a thin road unknown to all of us, a tiny windy road up the side of a mountain. At least we assumed it was a mountain because I couldn’t see past the side of the road. To make it even more adventurous, we were following a giant bus, who had to stop each time an oversized semi truck meet them in the road to ensure that neither would sustain fatal damage. Although we were slightly encouraged by the ” Viajamos con Dios” written on the back of the bus. Our average speed during this portion of the journey, about 10 km per hour. Doesn’t sound scary,but when you consider speeding semis, being passed on blind corners by motorcycles, scooters and cars, and the constant peril of hitting a cow or sliding of the edge of the mountain, I think I forgot to breathe for about and hour and a half.
Mike and Mike enjoying the morning view as the fog begins to lift.
The view as the fog clears.
Breakfast
Lyle and Dwayne dominating the archery tent
I gave a good effort, at least.
Finally after one wrong turn, several scary switchbacks we pulled into what we believed was our destination, Camp La Montana. The bus we followed, pulled into the same location. A group of twenty men all arrived at the same time to check into the camp.
Dwayne with arrow in flight
The lake area
rider in the sky
outdoor theater near the lake
Upon arrival we scurried off to find a room. We found two rooms upstairs right across from each other, perfect for our group of eight. The rooms had two bunk buds, and two lower beds adorned with the thinnest foam mattresses available in all of Costa Rica. Also staring us in the face was the fact that there were no sheets or no towels in the room, and no one in our party had bothered to bring any of the aforementioned. A detail that apparently escaped all eight of us. Next time when they tell us to check the website, I will check the website. But in this case the adventure continued.
don't know, but it was big
flora
more flora
on my way to the top! Looks like the pants are about to split.
After a dinner, which included beans and rice, some kind of meat and something else, we had some worship music, a message and met in small groups. The theme of the adventure was hearing God’s voice. Our small group, the only group from Guanacaste met outside in the evening fog. We were adorned in our shorts and t-shirts, and to a man we were chilled. Sure it was probably 65 degrees our there, but when you live in 90 temperatures, a wet 65 can be a little frigid.
disco ball in the gym, now that's what I am talking about
John and Don on a hike
Why do I always have to be on skins?
Don participating in the soccer match.
Upon retreating to our rooms, and completely exhausted from a nearly 8 hour trip, we thought sleep would be easy. We were fortunate that they were able to dig up fitted sheets for us to use as bedding, and a couple of pillows. Although damp, they were welcomed.
Lyle in action
If I hurry I can kick the ball once!
Mo looks mad, and dangerous. Note Angelo in the back, I think he was a little winded.
Looks like the world cup
Lyle getting jiggy with it.
Dude, are we done yet?
Sleep, at least for me, was intermittent and fitful at best. Every move made on the mattress echoed throughout our room, and the rough cut lumber lining my top bunk kept digging into my back and hip, leading to many adjustments throughout the night. Looking forward to a hot shower to kick-start the day, I was surprised to find that unlike the water in our area region of Costa Rica, the water actually gets cold, very cold here in the mountains. The best part, there was not a lick of hot water to be had. There was a handle for hot water, but no hot water. So my shower was very cold, exhilarating and quick.
View from the field
Mo and John
That day included three more meetings intertwined with some basketball, frisbee, hiking, water slides, water swings, archery and a two-hour epic soccer battle on a field pitted with ankle busting holes. Adventure sprinkled with danger, everything a man could want.
Glenn and John
Dwayne, Lyle and Mike & Mike getting ready to hear the word.
There were a few minor injuries, a lot of sore muscles and more sweat than an episode of The Biggest Loser. The good news is by this time the hot water was working and the spittle that dripped out of the shower had at least blasts of heat.
More flora
Mo and Lyle discussing the days message.
The meetings were great and effective. We got to do a lot of soul-searching, deep conversation and learning helping us all to grow. The meals were an adventure, to keep with theme of course. There was always rice and/ or beans with every single meal. Then a meat product and something else. I say meat product because at least two times we were unable to identify what we were eating. But what’s an adventure without a little mystery. We did not go hungry.
Ben our young worship leader
Sleep was certain for night two, especially after the lack the night prior and the two-hour soccer game. Sleep I did, for about an hour, and then it was back to toss and turn throughout the night, even though I moved my mattress to the ground. The last day began with breakfast, some praise and worship, a short message and testimonies given by attendees sharing what they got out of the conference. The ride home was in the daylight and other than me cutting off a guy in an intersection in San Ramon, and being pulled over for no reason other than to be extorted, it was peaceful. In fact we turned the 7.5 hour trip into a 4 hour trip, and that included a stop for ice cream and gas, and a friendly conversation with a local police officer, and I use that term loosely.
Even had a visit from a coati.
Where's Waldo?
In reflection, perhaps the trip revealed to us that no matter our surroundings, no matter the circumstances or how uncomfortable we are, we can and should always seek out to hear God’s voice. To understand what he is telling us and where he is guiding us. After all, Paul, in Acts, lived in a world of discomfort, adventure and peril and was perhaps the most effective messenger of Jesus of all time. So perhaps it is good for us to have adventure or suffer at times to bring us back into the world of others that suffer daily and still maintain their faith in the midst of it all, and as a result bring us a little closer to him and increase our ability to hear his voice. Which can call out even in the midst of the night and over the din of the mysterious mountainous snorer in your room. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat!
Time for fiesta.
A combination of a block party, state fair, rodeo and outdoor Latin Deejayed dance, that about describes the local fiestas.
Each and every town has fiesta at least once a year. It is the local culture. When the bull ring starts being erected from scratch with lumber that looks as if it was found on the side of the road, you know it is coming. It takes about a week to erect it, but it is always finished on time. Once the ring is up, the party starts, and they know how to party.
Jeremy, Braden and Dorian waiting for their turn in the bouncy castle.
The ride section
That blur is Olivia, Ben and Faith.
Go ahead and stand up during the ride little girl. It adds to the excitement.
The music is ear bleeding loud. The food is heart clogging good. The vendors are in your face with their trinkets. The rides, well the rides are the rejects, the ones deemed unsafe in the states, and they are fired up and rolling. But the highlight is the bull ring. Every night there is an event in the bull ring, and every night it is a spectacle.
In Costa Rica we call this driver's ed.
These boys did not know what they were getting into when they agreed to ride with Olivia.
I can see regret on their face. Note Olivia is the only one doing the spinning.
The sounds, the smells, the scenery, they all scream party. They beg you to dance, call for you to eat and to eat badly, and summon you to cheer on the bulls. There is the obligatory beer tent, or two, or three, just in case any false courage is needed. And there always at least three different DJ’s blasting out latin, hip swinging, head bobbing dance music, with competing throbbing beats, throughout the night.
Jake and Luke spinning as hard and as fast as they can.
Kassie and Faith following the boys.
As soon as the rides opened, the kids were ready to roll. At the Villa Real festival there were four larger rides, including a mini coaster, bumper cars, a spinning puking twisting thing, and an air spinner. The great thing is there are no lines, because on one waits in line, you just push forward, walk on, get on, and ride if you dare. The rides look like they are about two levels of safety below the typical backyard fair in the states. There are no safety fences, no chains or gates’; in fact to get into the bumper cars you have to literally run through the whirling bumper cars to get to your car and join in the fun. It adds a slight level of intensity. You can also high-five your friends on the air rides as they fly by you at mach 7, or let your little kids go ahead and stand during the kiddy airplane ride, or coaster ride, as we witnessed. So even though the ride itself may not be that intense, the freedom within adds unspeakable levels of intensity.
Don't let their sweet innocent looks fool you, these two were vicious in the bumper ring.
trinkets.
The big ride in action.
The food, it is fried, it is local, it smells good and it tastes good. There is lots of rice, lots of meat on sticks and a local favorite, the double fried chicken. Yep, the fried chicken sits under a heat lamp until you order. Then, to make sure it is hot and fresh for you, they fry it again. So you get a built-in drink with your chicken. We stuck to some churros and donuts with a touch of caramello.
Meat on a stick. Not sure what kind, but it smelled good.
An up and comer.
Homemade ramp to the homemade ring.
Dorian, Ben and Livy on the fence, Braden and Jeremy inside the ring. That's about right.
But the highlight is the rickety wooden ring of which the festival surrounds. Therein lies the loudest music, therein is the loudest announcer, and there is where the crowd gathers. Some unwilling to shell out 2000 colones for a wooden bleacher seat, bring their own chairs and set up station right outside the ring, peering through the wooden planks. Others climb on top of the fence posts, and some set up camp under the bleachers. Us tourists, the non-locals, well we shell out the money so we can sit in comfort and with a view. Exactly what were we viewing?
The bulls came out with a rider, and went back in without one.
This guy was especially mean. You can see he was intentional, thoughtful and brutal. Note the kids peering through the fence.
A bull ring littered with drunk college spring breakers, drunk young locals and a couple of skilled vaqueros on their horses, armed with rope and lasso. There were about 25 young brave men in the ring ready to run from, at, and with the bulls. The bulls were big, the bulls were mean, and the bulls were fast. The worked quickly to get the young rider off their back so they could set their horns on the young sunburned drunks in their flip-flops. And just as I turned to tell my wife how I was rooting for the bull amongst the bravado appearing in the ring, two familiar faces appeared, Jeremy and Braden. So now there were 25 drunks and Jeremy and Braden. They too wanted to feel the horns of the bull up close. Perhaps even more intense, the wrath of mom when she found out they were in the ring.
Braden ready to catapult out, Jeremy with hands in pocket.
This college spring breaker was asking for it all night long.......
And he got a little taste.
But alas, the boys maintaining a full state of soberness stayed close to the fence, leaping up in a single bound at the inclination of an angry bull approaching. They moved swiftly and unlike several Ticos, never had to dive for cover. There were several falls, lots of fence jumping and even some dives as the bulls charged, parried and spun throughout the dirt covered rung. The false bravado was amazing, the close calls followed by high fives, hugs and another beer. As far as live entertainment goes, and for the price, it is pretty hard to beat.
SCATTER!
Prophetic?
The main attraction......
...even for the medics
On a steel horse they ride.
It was a good night, and once it was over it was to comprehend why the fiestas were the most anticipated event of the year. They had a touch of Americana, the cheap trinkets, candied apples, cotton candy and mechanical rides. They had culture with the food and the historical bull ring, as this country was founded and settled by cowboys, or vaqueros. But most of all they have a place to get together, even if just for a weekend. A reason to come out of their small home as a family and gather with friends, enjoy their culture, eat, dance, drink, and just forget about the worries of the day for a couple of nights. Forget about the heat and the hard life, and just enjoy. But most of all they gather praying together that at least one of those drunk college tourist’s back ends meets the front end of a bull. For then they will have a story to share for all time.
A little video shot with my iphone so you can soak up some of the action and sounds.
The March of Fires
Fully enveloped in the dry season now for months, the earth all around us is covered in crinkly dry leaves, yellow dry grass and dry tinder branches. This combined with 30-40 mph winds makes this whole region a giant piece of kindling wood. The Guanacaste region has been on fire for weeks, all being fanned and directed by the seasonal winds, ironically the same winds we use to cool our house during the extreme dry heat of the day. It is a nuisance. The air is constantly wafting the odor of campfire about, permeating not just our clothes, but couches, cars, and curtains. The whole house smells like one giant campground, covered in black and white bits of ash. There have been times when we couldn’t see across the road as the thick gray yellow clouds of smoke smothered the road transporting the flames to the other side. During the day it is ugly, smelly and a nuisance, but at night the beauty emerges.
The fresh salt water drowned out by the smoke.
Reminds me a little of a war zone.
At night the burning red-hot spots glow brightly, some close some a distance away marking empty fields. The distant hills have beautiful rivers of fire flowing up and down their faces, remanent of a fresh purge of lava from a young volcano. The smoke is invisible. The fire is beautiful mesmerizing me much like a youngster at a campfire. Burned out stumps, trees spotted with red glows, fields glowing, and wind gusts creating dancing, crackling sparks across the dark night sky a slowly moving glow. It causes a desire in me to greatly improve my photography skills so that I may share what I see.
I did not have a tripod, so I did the best I could to capture the glow spurned on by the wind.
A glowing stump.
Same stump with flash.
One tree dies, the other lives.
Charred remains of the hilltop.
A field near our home along side the road. Many wooden posts died this die.
In the morning it leaves behind a matted black field and hillside, wounded smoldering trees, not dead, but wounded as soldiers slowly walking across a battlefield and a blanket of white and black ash. There are no personnel fighting the fire, no helicopters, police barriers, fire trucks, news cameras, it is just a normal day. Perhaps they don’t have the man power or the budget, or perhaps they don’t care, it is part of nature, part of life, a purge, perhaps it is Pura Vida. Whatever it is, it is now a part of the yearly cycle of our life. Next year, I will have a tripod!
Weekend at Arenal
Living in Anchorage, when we wanted to get away for the weekend we would load up the minivan, point her south and head down to the Kenai Peninsula. In two and a half hours we could be in Kenai, an hour further we would be in Homer. It didn’t matter much which one, just as long as we were out of town.
Traveling view of Lake Arenal.
Well the same thing applies here in Costa Rica. With mom and grandma visiting we figured it was a great time to head to Arenal, one of the local active volcanos in Costa Rica. We loaded up the 12 seater with 11 bodies, and a bundle of bags and took off in hopes of catching a glimpse of the molten red lava spewing into the night sky.
Now Costa Rica is know for its diversiveness, and we live in the dry region famous for great beaches. We were headed towards the rain forest and jungles. The drive is about 4 hours and I like to divide it into three sections. The first section I would call the highway, from here to Liberia and a little beyond. The roads are well traveled, pretty straight and blast through small town after small town. The second section takes you into the hills where the winds await. There are sparse trees, wind farms, and a giant lake littered with wind surfers and their neon colored kites speckling the white capped lake. From inside the car, it looks cold, very cold. It reminds me of a lonesome bay in Alaska on cold blustery summer day. In reality, it is about 80 degrees out, and the wind, 20-25 mph, is a welcomed coolant.
Watching fish.
Once pass the sparse hills we enter the jungle, clouds appear, fog is present and the edge of the road disappears into the vivd green dripping jungle. There are a myriad of one lane bridges, rivers and eroding, albeit paved, roads along the way. The temperature is significantly cooler and the air becomes heavy with moisture. It is af you are driving into Jurrassic Park.
Contrary to what you may think, we are not making that bridge sag.
Four hours into our expedition we arrived at our destination, Los Lagos, a hotel / resort known for its spa and hot springs. But it had much more than we anticipated, a small butterfly farm, a frog farm, a crocodile farm and it was nestled right on the shoulder of the active Arenal volcano. It was very lush, very green well kept and catered towards tourists:us. It was perfect for this party of 11. For the kids it had three fast water slides, for the adults 7 different hot springs, pools and a spa.
At least one of them found the camera lens.
Grandma kept getting in trouble for not paying attention. The best part, she never knew it.
Happy, sad, scared, nervous? Not sure, perhaps a mix.
During our two day tour we decided to take advantage of some of the must do activites. We decided on the Ecoglide canopy / zip line tour, horseback riding for some, and a hike to the La Fortuna waterfall. In between all this we would soak our weary bodies in the hot springs and sip virgin pina colados served out of pineapples, can’t get much touristier than that.
Our Tico coffee at our new favorite place to eat in La Fortuna, La Choza. If you visit, you must eat there.
The zip line was the highlight for most. It consisted of 15 different zip lines at varying lengths, heights and speeds. All fantastically fun and exhiliariting. But what really set it over the top was the Tarzan swing perilously awaiting you in the middle of of the tour. Of course I was offered up as the sacrificial Tarzan to go first. As I eased forward onto the shaky mesh metal platform hanging over what felt like the abyss, they strapped me in the never explaining what was about to occur. The guides hooked two thin, weary looking and frayed white lines into my harness. They tugged, tightened and pulled me right next to a gate overlooking a 1000 foot drop ( at least it looked that far) and told me to press up against the gate. At this point I thought they would explain what was going to happen, instead “click” the gate was open. “Wait what is going on” I stammered, “relax, just sit” and I as bent my knees to sit I began free falling to the earth below. My intestines just about flew out of my mouth as I began screaming “NO, NO, NO”. It felt as if the two puny ropes had failed and I was going to be a ball of mush on the side of a mountain. But then the lines gently grabbed hold and began rocketing me straight up to the sky, inches away from the canopy above, and I began swinging, like Tarzan, back and forth, inches away from tree trunks. It was scary, it was exhiliarting and it was fun. The best part was watching those who went after me, knowing what they were going through, but also knowing they had the advantage of knowing what was going to happen. I must acknowledge those who took the leap, Tracy, Dorian, Alli, Jeremy, Olivia, and Grandma. Yes my 83 year old grandma took the leap screaming ‘WHEEEEE!! You’re going to miss out” Much like the Geico pig. She loved it. Mom, well she got strapped in, stepped up to the gate, and then couldn’t go through with it. But she got close.
Can you see the toucan? I can.
After the two hour tour, we rushed a group to the horse riding tour while the rest of us elected to rest our weary bodies in the hot springs. I hear the horseback tour was awesome, but I did not go as I prefered not to have saddle sores for the remainder of our stay. Besides, the last time I did the tour it ended up being a little more adventurous than I bargained for. They however loved it, especially my wife who got to ride her favorite kind of horse.
Returning to the stables after a month long cow herd.
After an excellent, gigando dinner at La Choza in La Fortuna, the next morning, we headed out for our hike to the waterfall in La Fortuna. The hike was down the side of a mountian on steps made of perforated concrete which allowed the massive vegetation to grow through and around it, almost engulfing it as part of the earth. I am not sure how many steps there were, I stopped counting after one trillion, but at least they were of varying heights angles and depths to keep it interesting. The trip down was worth the view, the trip up was tenuous. Next time we are packing a lunch and our swimming trunks and enjoying the view for a while.
Is that Bear Gryls?
Although we did not get to see any lava, or even the very top of the the volcano, it was a weekend to be remembered, a great way to spend the last one before school starts up again. We got to see a lot of critters; the infamous coati begging on the side of the road,monkeys chilling and posing, toucans, iguanas, butterflies, crocodiles, frogs and even a sloth. I am extremely proud of grandma as she did each an every adventure set before her, living life to the fullest. But most of all I am proud of her for surviving three days and two nights without her facebook. That my friends was a real challenge!
This is about as much of the volcano as we ever saw.
Here is a short video compilation of our weekend for you to enjoy. Until our next adventure, I need some sleep.
Whirlwind
I have been off the blogosphere for a bit as we made a whirlwind trip back to America for our 3 month reprieve. You see until you have residency here in CR, we have to leave the country every 3 months, get your passport stamped, and then you can return again. You don’t have to go to America, you just have to go. However, we have had round trip tickets the last couple of times and we decided this time would be a good time to do some Christmas shopping and to pick up Mom and Grandma and bring them home. A quick relaxing one week trip to Orlando. However, I have discounted the effect the Pura Vida life has had on us. We are used to the slow pace, the anything goes mantra that permeates this small country. Orlando is anything but that, and Orlando’s malls are the exact opposite of that, an area where we spent the vast majority of our time.
You see when we travel we now travel with a mission, shop for stuff that is to expensive or does not exist here, see some movies in english, eat at places we don’t get to eat at, and force ourselves to have some fun. What we failed to realize is that there is no relaxing that fits into the following schedule.
Jake digging into one of the far too many desserts we ate. Thanks Mom & Grandma!
Pausing at the Florida Mall for a picture.
Day one, shop, pick up Mom and Grandma from the airport.
Day two, eat, shop, eat, shop, get home exhausted.
Day three, eat, shop, eat, shop, movie, drive, shop, eat. Get home exhausted.
Day four, eat, eat, shop, shop, drive, look for specific presents, drive, keep looking, drive, pass out from exhaustion.
Kassie, Jake and snakes.
Exhausted shoppers. Note the long sleeve shirts.
Mall scenes
Day five, drive 3 hours to West Palm Beach to visit Dorian’s potential college, take an 1 1/2 hour tour, eat, drive 3 hours home, go to a movie, maybe catch a nap during the flick in a very loud Imax theater, eat and sleep.
Dorian's welcome to Palm Beach Atlantic University.
University views.
The view from the street side dorms.
The chapel.
Inside the chapel.
The library, it was very impressive.
Library
Day Six, last-minute shopping, all that stuff we forgot, drive like crazy to find it with minimal success. Shop, check mom and grandma into a hotel near the airport, go to dinner at Downtown Disney, a super hectic place, lose Olivia, find Olivia, get back at the house to pack about 4 hours behind schedule.
I think he is giving Alli the cold shoulder.
The Millenia Mall doing its best to get us in the spending spirit.
Another mall another picture.
Like father like son.
Day seven, get up early, drop off rental car, get to airport 2.5 hours early so that 9 people and 12 bags can get checked in, which is a blog in and of itself, fly 2.5 hours to CR, drive 4.5 hours back to Flamingo in the dark, open door, breathe.
Livy and Jake taking a break.
Day eight, sleep, and surf, back home.
It is funny, but as soon as we hit the front door of our house, or even the street in front of our house Tracy and I both breathe a huge sigh of relief. We are home, it is familiar, it is relaxing and busy, but it is where we are now living our life. America is great, it is convenient, it is busy, bustling, big and beautiful, but it wears us out. We got a lot done, visited Dorian’s potential college Palm Beach Atlantic, bought a lot of Christmas Presents, sent a ton of mail, lost Olivia at Downtown Disney, and found Olivia at Downtown Disney and ate at a dozen different restaurants. But I feel tense the whole time I am there, like I am not moving fast enough, like I have too many places to eat, too many things to do, too many choices to make. Once I get here my choices are the pool, the beach or stay home. It is simple, it is slow, it is nice and we like it. And as we walked in the door and realized that daddy forgot to pay the bills so our internet and phones were shut off, we smiled relaxed and said Pura Vida.
A Turtle’s Pace Part II
After paying our fees, at an open air shack filled with 5 Ticos wearing some semblance of shirts with turtles on them, making them obvious official turtle guides, we embarked on the second half of our journey. $8 for non-residents, was the fee for our “guided” tour of the beach. There were about 15 students and 10 adults, a salty group ready to stretch their legs. After money changed hands, we were issued our official green passes, and then canvas bags, which we were informed were to be used to gather trash. Cool, we pay to work. So that’s how socialism works. As we began walking towards the beach, the rain clouds moved in. No worries, as long as the turtles were there it would all be worth it. They were not.
Some major log moving going onLet's not move this one, it's too comfy.
I knew this was the only turtle we would see on this day.
We walked and walked and walked. We saw signs of turtles, drag marks, egg pieces and even a big old dead turtle. But no baby turtles and certainly no big momma turtles. After trudging for what seemed like miles in the black gritty sand, our guide finally spoke and asked us to help clean up the driftwood so the turtles would have more nesting room. So not only did we have to pay to see nothing and pick up trash, we had a good 1/2 hour of hard labor. We had resigned to our fate that we had just paid $8 per person to clean up trash, move driftwood, walk in the rain, and do things we could do every day in Guanacaste for free. Perhaps we could find turtles on the other side of the beach. I was clearly not hopeful. For after conversing with several of the turtle attendees who had attended several turtle coming outs in the past, the best time to come was very early in the morning, or at night, not 9 am. As I walked back along the surf lane allowing my feet to be washed off by the ever beating surf, I noticed a small portion of our group gathering up the beach a little. I altered course . As I walked into the small circle I heard cameras clicking, oohs and aahs, and saw some pretty big smiles. There were several baby turtles emerging from beach!
We see turtles emerging from the eggs buried in the depth of the black sands.
It was amazing to watch, first about six turtles, then 15, 20, 40, 60, 64 at final count. It was like a clown car at a circus, they just kept coming and coming directly out of the black sand. Slowly moving, covered in dirt trying to find their way. A few knew right where to go, others wandered off to the left or the right, but eventually they all seemed to at least point to surf. Maybe not directly, but at least at an angle that would get them there. The journey ahead of them was long and arduous, for they were about the size of a silver dollar, and about 1/3 the weight. Every footprint, stick or pebble presented an obstacle. A few got flipped over, some got stuck, some had to alter course completely, but all were determined to make it to their destination. It was then that I realized we were the turtles. We had a long and arduous journey, we had to alter course, we had to climb up and down the footprints left by nature, but we were determined to make it to our destination. The only difference, the baby turtles got stronger with every flip of their flippers, and we got a little weaker with every pothole.
Finding their way.
guess what I have!
At least now the journey to the surf had been worth it. We had seen what very few had ever witnessed. The sheer determination and pure beauty of God’s creation. The instinctive drive to survive no matter how hard. Events like these always affirm my belief in a creator. It seems incredulous to me to believe something so perfect as the circle of life could ever happen by accident. If you ever take a quiet moment to think about the true miracle of life, both in humans and creatures, of flora and fauna, it seems impossible to me to come to any conclusion other than the conclusion that it is planned. All of it. Each and every morsel. And nothing will affirm my faith in that more than seeing it in action with my own two eyes.
For many more pictures, video, and commentary enjoy our following two minute documentary.
P.S. On the way in I related a story about a teenager leading us on a false shortcut. On the way home we let a teenager lead us to the best Pizza place in all of Costa Rica. “The road is a little sketchy” he warned, but that pizza is good. When a road is barely passable by bicycle, covered in spider webs, and drops down 100 feet a time; that my friends is not the sign of good pizza place. This trail made the previous trail look like the Autobahn. It was steep, tiny, overgrown, full of fissures, gorges and gashes, muddy, slick and deadly. In short, it was scary. However once we turned down, there was no turning back. What we wouldn’t do for great pizza. How was the pizza? We will never know, it was closed for the season. Needless to say, those of us driving were not too happy with our teenage connoisseur. If you want directions I will give them freely, however be aware because there may be a former Gold Coast teenager roaming the roads chanting, ” the road is sketchy, but the pizza is good, the road is sketchy, but the pizza is good!”
Sail Away on the Marlin Del Ray
With the dry season now upon us, the only logical thing to do is to take to the water, which we did. BCC sponsored a sunset cruise aboard the Marlin Del Ray and the day couldn’t have been better. There were a smattering of clouds in the piercing blue sky, a slight breeze and perfect air temperature to be skimming across the slightly rippled blue sea. On board the cruise about 60 family and friends, drinks, fruit and food provided.
Our chariot awaits
Nary 20 minutes out of Tamarindo we spotted some humpback whales, a calf and her momma and we veered course to ride next to them. They put on a nice show for all of us, breaching, spewing and generally delighting all those on board before swimming off into the deep. Immediately after getting back on course we were greeted by some dolphins who playfully glided by each hull on the 60 foot catamaran. Right along side of them was a small manta ray sunning his wingtips. Soon after that we sailed upon some Leatherback turtles having an intimate moment. They seemed slightly irritated as we slid by them 10 feet away. In between all this were fish jumping, snakes swimming, and the wind and sea slapping gently against the hulls of the boat. On board, kids and adults were laughing in glee with every new sighting.
Thar she blows! Whale watchers moving over the the starboard side.
Once we reached our destination, a private beach, the anchor was dropped and everyone hit the water with snorkels, noodles or life jackets. The water was not the clearest, but it was clear enough to see the plethora of colorful fish and sea life along the reef. I don’t know what kind of fish I saw but I do know that they were neon blue, yellow, rainbow-colored, small, large, fast slow and all curious. The beach itself was empty except for those of us from the boat, so it was ripe for a walk or a little beach combing. It was a small dark beach sheltered by small cliffs on each side, making the bay it hosted nearly glass calm. No surf to speak of, but great for some swimming and snorkeling.
Jeremy and Octavia checking on the anchor.
The day finished with some food, singing and a typical Costa Rica sunset, the money shot. However, they always seem to be a little more impressive from the water. Something about being able to look back onto the beach having the same view the sun has makes it slightly more breathtaking. Cameras were smoking as their shutters flashed, and there was a slight quietness and stillness that enveloped the whole vessel as we waited for that magical moment when the sun disappeared over the edge of the world. We were not disappointed, as we never are. And as we were shuttled back to the beach in the 20 foot fiberglass, white open skiff, which got us close enough to wade back to the beach in the warm Pacific water, I realized that this was November, and we had just all been kissed by a touch of sunburn. I also realized that our reality had changed from shoveling snow, driving on icy roads and trying to keep my bald head warm, to trying to stay cool, dealing with jellyfish stings, and trying to make sure my bald head doesn’t burn. It is a change, but we are doing our best to cope.
P.S. There are so many pictures that I just put them in slideshow below for you to enjoy.
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Just Bag It
Having never been much of a world traveler, the things I experience, the things new to me, are odd. Odd to me because they are different from my expectations. Not odd in a bad way, but odd in a way that makes me go hmmmm? Let’s take food for example. Sure the national food here is arroz con pollo or arroz con frijoles, chicken and rice or beans and rice. Like in Alaska where everyone has their own sourdough or beer batter or smoked / canned salmon recipe, here everyone has their own beans and rice or chicken and rice recipe. That’s not really too odd. I’ve watched enough food network to know that when you travel you should attempt to experience the “local” cuisine. However, what I find a little odd is how you buy your food.
Perhaps a little bit of a brand translation fail? Yummy bread though.
For instance, bagged ketchup? Yep, you can buy ketchup in a bag. Not just ketchup, but mayo mustard, beans, pretty much anything that comes in a liquid or semi-liquid form is sold in a branded six-inch sturdy foil bag, like a giant Capri Sun bag. They are in every store and nearly every aisle; Even cleaning solutions, clorox, windex, soap…. bags. Now I haven’t exhausted every resource, but I have asked a lot of people and no one has been able to tell me why. I have heard they are easier to stack, last longer, more econ friendly etc. All theories, all plausible, but odd none-the-less.
Ben showing us the Mayo and mustard bag section.
rows and rows of bagged / pouched stuff.
Pouched honey
Not sure if this is oil, lard or grease, but I know it is bagged, and Jeremy wants some.
Vanna showing us bags of cleaning "stuff". Liquid, powder, solid doesn't matter, it is bagged.
Hot dogs, and American staple and a Godfrey staple. they are good for breakfast lunch or dinner. I know what you are thinking, they do not come in bags. Well, not exactly anyway. They come in wrappers. When you grab a pack of dogs at the store, they look just like any pack you would buy back home. However, they are made from many different things here, most commonly chicken. So you need to learn a few words to grab the right kind. But when you cut the pack open, you quickly see that each and every dog is individually wrapped with a thin layer of??? It is like a Saran wrap, a very thin tinted Saran wrap. I have yet to get an answer as to why or if you are to unwrap before cooking, cook with wrapping on, eat wrapping or discard wrapping. Again, odd.
look closely and you can see lurking beneath the package the slightly pink wrappers engulfing each individual hot dog.
Is it just me or does this just not feel like spanish?
Eggs, another Godfrey staple. We could have 50 chickens laying eggs in our back yards and that probably wouldn’t be enough for our family. We buy a lot of eggs. In the markets here the eggs come in containers of 4, 6, 12 , 36. They are brown, their shells are thicker and the eggs are not all the same size or color. They are not individually stamped, they look more like someone just picked them up form one of the millions of chickens you see running around all over the place. Also, they are never not once refrigerated in the store. Not in the upscale stores with air conditioning, or the local 95 degree stores. Eggs do not go in the refrigerator. They are usually at the end of an aisle stacked 6 feet high. We try to get the bottom of the stack of course, they are slightly fresher. Another oddity, or eggstentialism if you will.
The nicest egg section this side of San Jose. Usually they sit on the floor or on a metal rack.
You can see the bread lady at the bread counter. If you get a bread or pastry and try to walk by without her bagging & tagging your bread, well then you are taking your own life in your hands.
They are serious about their bread here, rightfully so. It is good bread.
Further, there are an abundance of employees in every store. For instance in our local Auto Mercado there is a stock boy for every aisle, and they are always adjusting, dusting rearranging or doing something in the aisles. There seems to always be at least one of them in the aisle if not three or four. There are usually 3-4 security guards patrolling the store, and apparently they have been trained to keep an eye on goateed bald guys. But I find a smile and a “buenas” puts them at ease. Most every store has a meat counter where you get your meat, and three employees behind it. Oh, and you order in kilograms. That’s always fun, especially the first time you ask for 4 kilos of molida (ground beef) and the guys eyes almost bug out of his head. Often times in the vegetable or fruit section there is a guy there just to weigh your fruit and mark it for you. If you try to leave there without getting it weighed and marked, he will chase you down. There is another one in the bakery section to bag, box and mark your doughnut. Around every corner there is someone doing something, or doing nothing as the case me be. In almost every instance there are more employees than patrons in the store at any given moment. The day I took these pictures, in the nicest mercado this side of San Jose, I counted at least 25 employees and about a dozen shoppers.
It seems that Tony the Tiger is quite a bit meaner in Latin America. Perhaps it is the heat.
So not only are we learning to adjust to the new money, the new language, the new food, we also have to relearn the metric system, how to shop for food and how to purchase it properly. It is a daily adventure, and sometimes struggle. But I have learned a couple of things over the last 4 months; Squeezing your condiments onto an unwrapped hot dog, near nirvana. And you haven’t lived until you have made your kid’s PB&J by squeezing your grape Smuckers from a pouch.
Life in the fast lane
With a tourist Visa, we are only allowed to be in Costa Rica for 3 months at a time before we have to make a trip outside of the country. So last week we took a 5 day trip to Orlando. We did not visit Disney, Universal or Seaworld, instead we shopped, ate and shopped. We ate at every restaurant that we don’t have here, which is everything except McDonald’s and Burger King, and we shopped at every store we don’t have here which is….. every store. Our days consisted of getting up, eating, getting good coffee, shopping, eating, shopping, eating, stopping at Wal-Mart or Target ( I consider this more gathering than shopping), sleeping,repeat. We did this for 5 days, with one afternoon to go watch Captain America in a real movie theater with really bad movie popcorn. Sure miss that little luxury, but don’t miss the cost.
Living here you quickly learn to appreciate the simple lifestyle, with the difficult process, but you miss the luxuries that we as Americans have grown up with. Fast food, fast shopping and entertainment around every corner. We don’t have those luxuries here. Fast food is 45 minutes away, and fast food at a local soda is usually a real meal with rice and beans. Entertainment is scarce. There are no local movie theaters, and the ones in Liberia are often in Spanish. There is a hopping bar scene, but that is more depressing than entertainment, at least in my eyes. Our entertainment usually involves group get togethers and more often than not, a beach. So in that aspect life is simple, and it is fantastic.
However, it does not mean we do not miss this stuff. When it is put right in front of you, it is hard to resist. Convenience is everywhere and always.
One thing that we are missing, that we don’t miss; Sirens. I heard 5 times more sirens in the 5 days we spent in Kissimmee than I have heard in 3 months in CR. In fact I can only think of two times that I have heard sirens since I have been here. Over spending; sure things here are often quite more expensive than back in the states, but there are far fewer things to spend $$ on. Once you get set and established, you can live quite effectively on a minimal budget. The initial setup is spendy, and the luxuries will cost you, but you don’t really have the plethora of places to spend your money that you do back in the good ole USA.Traffic; Sure driving here can be tricky and even treacherous, but there is no traffic. Almost all traffic slow downs are caused by a herd of cows being herded by three vaqueros on horses. You pretty much just pick your way through them, go around the tourists taking pictures, and keep going on your way. Besides, if you are late, no big deal. It’s Costa Rica, Pura Vida, plain and simple. Schedules are loose, times are more zones than minutes, Monday can mean any Monday, and closing / opening times are often displayed with an “ish” after the time.
It takes quite a while to get used to, as we have not, but it is much easier to appreciate after a trip back to the Mother Land. Well I best be going, the kids got out of school an hour ago, and I was supposed to pick them up and I still have to get me an iced coffee along the way. I gotta have something to do in case I get stuck behind some cows.
Pretty much the definition of Pura Vida.
Costa Quirks – Driving Guanacaste
Every once in a while I am going to do a blog on a major difference that I notice from AK to CR. I will tag them as Costa Quirks.
You want to know something a little scary? Driving in Costa Rica. First of all the roads are smaller than home, and they have no shoulders. Secondly, there are a bunch of critters all over them, iguanas, dogs,herds of cows, frogs, crabs,possums, skunks, chickens and much more. Even though most of them won’t hurt your car, they can cause an evasive action reaction, which on a road with no shoulders can be dangerous. Even scarier than the critters are the evenings. The roads are very dark after 7 pm. Imagine driving 100 on a small windy road ( yes I know it is kilometers, it just sound s cool to say 100) street lights non-existent, weak headlights barely illumaniting the road ahead, and then like a flash a dark skinned person appears in dark clothes about 1 foot inside the white line, oblivious to you and trusting that you will not hit them. This can lead to perennial tension on the steering wheel, causing excessive stress throughout the shoulders and arms, and flat wearing the driver out.
Filadelfia traveler
bikers are everywhere
this bus tried to get off the road.
Traffic laws are things in fables and fairytales, speed limits ignored. Nobody drives the velocidad maximum, they either drive way below it or way above, never at it. Stop signs are treated like green lights and the double yellow line means you need to pass twice as fast. But you want to know is even scarier? The other people on the road, and when I mean on the road I mean on the road. The pedestrians, bike riders, scooter riders,horses, truck and bus drivers, all of them are extremely frightening, especially in the dark. Remember there are no shoulders, so where do the pedestrians walk? On the road, with black shirts and no reflective clothing, nearly impossible to see. Where do the bike riders ride? On the road with the same clothes.It’s like they want to be ninjas, never seen and never heard until they are right on you. This goes for all of the ones mentioned above, they all share the road with the car drivers.
But even scarier than that, are other drivers. Remember the traffic laws are rarely obeyed, so they drive however they feel like driving, pass whenever they want, and my favorite, stop in the middle of the road to chat with pedestrians other drivers or just to stretch a little. NO JOKE. Buses, Trucks cars all of them will stop right in the middle of the road, granted a couple of them actually turn on their hazards so there is that. Then while they sit in the road tour buses, trucks, motorcycles, bikes, all of them zoom by in the opposite lane of traffic. It is common place to see a fully loaded tour bus pass on a double yellow, up a hill on a blind corner.
Typical Tamarindo scene
It is a conundrum to me. We are in a country where the motto is Pura Vida, and the laid back life style is not only marketed but encouraged. Yet driving feels incredibly dangerous and rushed, it is an intense adventure rivaling whitewater rafting and zip lining, but more dangerous. But you want to know what the scariest of all is?………………….
this is my "forced smile I'm not stressed" look.
……… I kind of like it!
Here is a three minute video of a 45 minute drive back from Liberia.
Surfing USA
Alright, I know we aren’t in the USA, but it was Independence Day and we are still US citizens, so I figured I could take a little liberty there with the title. We were eager to see what the Fourth of July would be like in CR, whether anyone would care or even know. They know, but I am not sure they care, other than caring to party.
Playa Grande
Alli shell hunting
looking for more shells
action Jackson
For us we decided to make it a family day and do something we had never ever done on the Fourth; surf. Since we had never surfed on the fourth, and most of us had never surfed at all, what better place to go than the place known for its big waves, Playa Grande. At the surf board shop we rented the biggest fattest board they had, because we like to go old school, and because they are supposed to be easier to use for beginners.
grand rock at Grande
The rocks residents
Kassie and Jake taking a rare break from the water
Big board Benny
The beach is called grande because it is a huge beach. White sand, big waves and a little wind, pretty much all you need. The white sand seems to go on forever, the waves are never-ending, the people are few and the water as warm as a spa. So into the water we went, dad the instructor who does not know how to surf, a 9 foot surf board and eager students. I suppose like anything, when you watch the pros do it, it looks easy. Swim out, turn around, catch the wave, stand up, your surfing! Of course it never is. To my surprise the hardest part was the swimming out. Almost every kid who tried had a hard time getting the board out past the waves on their own. Conversely, only after a few spills, every kid who tried to stand up and ride a wave succeeded. Our technique was simple, practice jumping up on the beach, practice balancing on the board in the water, dad holds the board until he sees a good wave then sends them on their way. Their job, jump up when they feel comfortable. To my shock, it worked.
Tra and Kassie cheesing it
hmmmm, I don't like to get my face wet, but this looks pretty cool.
Tra catching a wave on the boogie board
I can't believe I just did that! Righteous!
Now surfing is not just about standing on a surf board, that I know. But that is all I know, so until we have some actual teachers we will call that success.
After three hours in the water shuffling kids through the board, I could feel my head start to get warm and my muscles start to get tired, so I had to take a break. In fact, if I could figure out a way to sell a DVD with a wave pool that generated 5-8 foot waves over and over in people’s living room, I would be the next millionaire in the exercise market. It is definitely a workout to just stand in the surf.
Jake praying at the Mar Bar
our new favorite hole in the wall for lunch
Starving, thirsty salty and soggy we asked around for a good quick local eat and were told about Mar Bar, somewhat hidden but the only place to get some good quick grub. The Mar Bar is exactly what I would picture as a surfers hangout. Located as part of small, low-budget hotel, with a pool; It was very small, just wide enough for a row of eight three person tables an chairs in the “dining area” about 5 feet away from the six person bar. The bar had a 1/2 wall to block the road, and the rest was open. The small kitchen plainly visible to the patrons, with a flat screen tv hanging from the wall playing surf videos from around the world. Locals were in and out, the owner knowing them all by name. It was as much as of a pass-thru as a hangout. Our food was prepared by two local Ticas, and it was fantastic. All the items were fresh and handmade, especially the fries. The fries were hand cut half moons, light crispy, not greasy at all and seasoned with salt and rosemary; amazing. The fish burrito, again light but filling, loaded with fresh ingredients, as were the BLT wraps with slices of perfectly ripened avocados and special sauce. It was all excellent, and we will be back.
We finished the day with a local fireworks celebration near the Happy Snapper, a local eatery located across the street from the beach. There was live music which could be heard blocks away. Oddly enough, for USA independence day, the music was mostly Latin flavor and in Spanish. We chose to sit by the beach, not knowing where the fireworks would be displayed. Then in the pitch dark, at 7:30 we noticed that we had parked right next to the lighting station. No fences, yellow tape, nothing to keep you at a safe distance. We move a little ways away and made camp under some palm trees about 50 feet away. Half an hour late and the lighter man began the show. Now it may not have been the most awesome display we have ever seen, but what was awesome was that we were sitting on a beach, under palm trees, 8:00 pm in shorts and T-shirts, as the residual from the exploding rockets fell all around us and sizzled into the edge of the ocean. That was new. It was subdued, not overdone, simple but exotic, late, slow and appreciated, just like everything in Costa Rica. It was a good way to spend our first Independence Day abroad.
Alli and Playa Grande
Where are we and what are we doing, in 39,000 words (or 39 pictures).
A lot of questions have come in regarding where we are at and what we are doing. Well the first one is much easier to answer than the latter. We are in the Guanacaste Region of Costa Rica in a little beach town called Playa Flamingo. It is a very quiet little community with a mild tourist population. There are a couple of small hotels and resorts and a lot of local eateries. The nearest gas station is about 20 minutes away and the nearest grocery store is about a 2 minute walk from our house. It is about a 5 minute walk to the closest beach, and about a 10-15 minute walk to one of our favorite beaches. It is very sparsely populated and there are quite a few ex-pats in the area. In nearby Brasilito, there is a good population of Ticos. You can view the following map to get an idea where we are at.
As far as what we are doing, well that’s a little trickier to answer. We don’t know. We know we are supposed to be here, but we don’t know what we are supposed to be doing. We are keeping our eyes and ears open and praying for direction and I am confident we will find it. Until then there is not a lack of things to keep us busy.
Our first grocery bill for the Super Mercado.
over 200,000 colones, that's a lotta dough in any country! Note the second to last item, Alaska ice cream made by the local Dos Pinos ice cream factory.
We have had to start shopping from scratch, had a lot of work done on the house, get schools situated, church situated, contact old friends, make new friends,get a car, get driver’s license, get a bank account and watch sunsets. We are still working to get into a groove and that will take a while, but we will enjoy the journey and deal with the humongous changes that we have incurred. One way to make it slightly easier is to explore the area around and enjoy the beaches, boogie boards,food and sunsets, which we have been attempting to do, as evidenced by the following picture gallery.
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Godfrey’s Islands of Adventure
As I sit by the pool nearing 11 pm I am in awe of my kids stamina and at the same time acutely aware of my dwindling stamina. You see, right now we are still in vacation mode, so to me vacation means relaxing, to our family vacation means water and lots of it. We have been in our townhouse for two days, and day one they spent about 5 hours in the pool, in between shopping trips. That included a late night pool movie feature. Today we spent the whole day at Universal Studios Islands of Adventure. We arrived at the park at 9:15 and left at 6:30. I wanted to stay until 9 pm, so that we could get our moneys worth, but I got out-voted by a bunch of endless energy munchkins that wanted to get a couple of hours in the pool before it closed at 11.
Now, my intent was to stay at the park from open to close, but to be honest, after about 6 hours I was spent. My feet hurt, my back hurt, my sunburns hurt and my wallet hurt. The park is not a good place to eat on the cheap. By about 3 pm I was ready to roll, but the cheap skate in me made me push on. The same one that makes me eat all the left overs from everyone’s plate in any restaurant. We paid for it, we are going to eat it! However, despite my agony and because of my inner miser, I suggested one last Spiderman before we boogied. Immediately after that, we left dragging our tails in tow.
Here a couple of things we learned this time around about Islands of Adventure. Last time it was our favorite, and it was still very good.
1. If you arrive at open, you will do so with a throng of other cheap skates wanting to get every second out of that park for their money’s worth. Misers, in general are a grouchy creature, be aware of them and avoid them if possible.
2. By about 6 the lines really start to shorten, especially for the popular rides. As we were walking out, the Hulk, which was perennially a 40 minute wait was down to 10 minutes. All other rides seem to follow suit.
3. Our favorite rides, Spiderman, Hulk,Champion Dragons, and Harry Potter. Overall our number one must ride is probably Harry Potter. Now it pains me to say this because I have never read a Harry Potter book nor seen any of the movies. All I know about Potter is that he is a 30-year-old wizard posing as a pre-teen boy, and that may be inaccurate. That being said, the ride is phenomenal. It is very similar to Spiderman, but modernized. One of the neatest things they have done to combat the non-stop long lines filled with wizards and interesting looking folk, is to make the Castle an interesting feature in and of itself. The castle captures your attention so well that once you get in it, which takes some time, time flies by. In fact, you will get snowed on in the castle. How cool is that? And that’s still 20 minutes away from the ride.
All in all we are still heavily in vacation mode combating reality with every waking moment. Our waistlines are growing with the plethora of cheap junk food; our skin burns red from the hot sun; and our eyes are bloodshot from either a lack of vacation sleep or chlorine, one cannot be sure. However so far, I wouldn’t change a thing. In fact, I think it is time for a midnight dip.
The following video is a compilation of our day at Islands of adventure. There are some actual real-time ride videos taken by Tra and I on our iphones on some of the most harrowing rides. This my friends is dedication ; risking our phones for you pleasure. We hope you enjoy. Oh, and if you hear any screams, they are purely for your benefit.
23 Totes
Stuff, stuff and more stuff. We all have stuff, lots of it. I knew we had a lot of stuff because with each move we added several thousand pounds, according to the moving company, and although much of it was on my waistline, the vast majority was just stuff. Now the older we get and the more kids we get the more stuff we add. The question is, how much of it is necessary? I have heard Pastor Brown deliver several messages over the years regarding people and their stuff. In fact just recently he had a great message on joy vs. happiness and used stuff as an example of temporary happiness, but it does not often bring you joy.
I find great irony in stuff. You see I remember when Tra and I were moving back home after college. We had no money, no jobs, a prospect or two and very little stuff. But that stuff was very very important to us. In fact it was so important that we borrowed $3000 from my Grandpa to buy an 18 foot dual axle trailer so that we could haul our stuff up to Alaska. We then built plywood walls 8 feet tall so that we could pile stuff high. Now, as I sit and type this there are only three items that I remember being in that trailer, a washer and dryer of the utmost cheapest variety that we had recently purchased, and a small table made from wafer board. Neither item we would need for years, neither item irreplacable, neither item that important. But at the time that was our stuff, it was all we had and it had enough value to us that we hauled it nearly 4000 miles through blizzards, mountains, wrecks, and Canada. I guarantee you it cost us more to haul or stuff than to replace it. I quickly found out the most valuable thing we brought with us from Missouri; the trailer.
Now the tides have turned. Over the last 20 plus years we have been blessed to have some decent stuff. Stuff it took us years to accumulate. Just one or two pieces of our stuff now is way more valuable, monetarily wise, than our stuff back then. It also has a lot more sentimental value; as pieces of stuff was acquired at significant moments in our live, moments that often involved kids.
But now that we have to pay around $5 a pound to ship it, it quickly loses its importance. In fact, that is a great way to see what stuff really means anything to you at all. Ask yourself, ” would I (more…)
Road Trips
Every once in a while a man has to get out of dodge and take road trip. In college a road trip consisted of; scraping up some gas money, spending most of it on snacks ( pickled red-hot sausage for me please), a car full of screaming teenage boys, very loud 80s music in the cassette, excessive speeding and not planning ahead for the trip home. They were spontaneous, reckless and usually fun fraught with a touch of danger and self-induced issues.
road trip scenes
Cook Inlet Turnagain Arm
Tern Lake
Now our road trips are just a touch different; Get through all the days appointments, PLAN for two days, pack for you the kids and for every contingency under the winter sun, take care of the dog, take care of the cars and leave about 2 hours later than planned, with no pickled red-hot sausage for dad because a 40-year-old gut can’t handle it. But probably the biggest difference is the purpose. In college, the purpose was not usually well-defined and sometimes not well intended. Now there is a purpose. Perhaps for a shopping trip, a family visit, or just some family time.
This past weekend we went out on one of our road trips to attend a family function. When my family has a function it is usually not an intimate thing. This time it was to congratulate my brother on graduating from law school and to celebrate my grandmother’s 81 (0r 82) birthday. After four years of working a full-time job and taking classes my brother was finally able to graduate with his law degree and take his bar exam, all while getting fantastic grades. We are very proud of him, and we just hope he doesn’t bill us when we call him, because he can be a little long-winded at times and we don’t have that kind of money.
A small portion of the gathering, Dorian, Jeremy, Jennifer, Brad and Wyatt
Brad " is that one of my kids crying or one of the 30 other kids?"
Just one of the kid's tables
These ones couldn't find a table
Grandma, well she keeps plugging along. She is the type of grandma that acts about 1/3 her age. My kids love being around her because she is so much fun, In fact Ben just did a road with her to Homer and he said he was laughing the whole time; it was his best road trip ever. So maybe she acts more like a 1/7 her age. Whatever it is I have learned that the older you get the younger you act the younger you will feel.
The adults beginning to gather after the cow bell for dinner was rung.
Olivia, Alli, Dorian, Tim and a whole slug of other eaters
Gerad about 1/2 hour into his thank you speech, with Deb and Grandma looking on.
The event itself was just that, lots of puroke, potato salad, turkey and desserts; new family members introduced, stories were shared, relationships rekindled, people were honored, and all were fed well. It was awesome. There were approximately 57 people in attendance. I could not give an exact number because approximately 30 of those people were under the age of 14 and they didn’t stand still long enough to be counted. We ended up having a grand time seeing family members we had not seen in years, and some new ones we had never seen. Unfortunately we were unable to stay as long as we would’ve liked, perhaps next time I will skip that pickled red-hot sausage on the drive over.
A Christmas to remember
Over the last few years we have molded our own Christmas tradition, friends over the night before Christmas, Church on Christmas Eve, a light dinner, the kids open presents from each other and from their grandparents, sleep in until 9 or 10 ( yep, it’s true our kids are NOT early risers) have some cinnamon rolls or dad makes eggs, read the Bible, take turns opening presents, and then play with any electronics as dad mumbles in frustration to himself trying to open plastic wrapped toys and wire ties. The afternoon is spent cooking a Prime Rib dinner while dad attempts to program, set up and debug all electronics while mom collects the leftovers of her endless hours wrapping perfection. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it is ours. It is comforting, relaxing, stress free and fits us like a brand new Snuggie, with feet.
The Eve of Christmas Eve gathering.
Jo on the eve of Christmas eve gets a visit from Glanta
Jo concentrating for the 32 seconds it took for her to open pressies.
Jake loving the Christmas Eve Candlelight Service
nephew Levi sporting a tie at church
This year Mom invited us back to Anchorage to celebrate Christmas at her house. Considering that this may be our last Christmas in AK for a while, we accepted. This changes things a little. You see my mom does not do small and relaxing. My mom does big and grand. So I knew there would be excessive food and excessive people. Further, we had to load up the van with all the gifts and all the gear required for a Christmas weekend.
Action!
Jace n Jake sporting their Jammies
ripping time
Kassie and Callie and their American Girls. Too many women for me!
Now this is more my speed!
Upon arrival I quickly learned that I was not wrong, nor was I disappointed, there were about a dozen pies, several turkeys, lots of sides, home-made egg nog ( another of my favorite cholesterol fat inducing traditions) french onion soup and yes my french dip. Christmas eve included a candle light service ( and no Shine Jesus Shine) with an exchanging of a few gifts. The house was full of food, fun and folks. It went very well with a relatively early bed time. Christmas Day was another story.
Nana's girls posing for her Christmas present
Callie, Tiara, Kassie, Olivia, Alli and Bella
It started well, we slept in until we could her our little nephews and nieces pitter pattering around the house. Tracy and I eventually made our way downstairs clothed in our traditional Christmas Jammies. I should haveknown it was going to be a little off day when I went to make a cup of coffee and the Kuerig was stingy with the water. Something was amiss. Desperate, I ran a solution of vinegar and water through the system, to no avail. Glenn without his traditional cup of Christmas morning sludge is unacceptable to most and unbearable to all. So after cleansing the system I tried again. It dribbled out about 8 ounces of joe, at least it was something. However one sip let me know that the system was still full of vinegar as I puckered in disgust looking for a place to spit my sip, the definition of a sourpuss. It never did give up any acceptable joe.
Kinect Action
uncle Brad showing us how its done. He beat daddy in track and field.
So we decided to start the gift opening, with no coffee. Unfortunately we did not calculate the time it would take with the extra four openers in the flock. You see we open one present at a time, but we had 11 kids in the mix. About 4 presents in we decided that everyone should open one present at a time, but in unison, adapt and survive. Perhaps I was impatient due to the lack O joe, but it seemed to be an effective and efficient method and by my calculations we would have been un-wrapping until New Year’s Eve.
Christmas in the dark
Christmas dinner in the dark.......
..... and charades in the dark, best you don't see what's happening here.
Once the presents were opened, Uncle Brad and I were off in search of coffee, of which we found a couple of smart stands open for business. Needless to say a big tip was in order. The afternoon did not fair any better as minutes into the frying of the turkey and prior to the cooking of the sides, the power went out. The same power that we lost on Thanksgiving ( and we later learned was lost on New Year’s Day). Do you think somebody may be bucking for some Holiday OT over at the Chugach Electric Company? Once again we improvised and brought the remainder of the food over to Val’s to cook, and made do with what was already done. The power stayed off until 3 am the next morning, so in the interim we slept ( okay I may have dozed off on the couch) ate, played charades, played cards, talked and sat by the fire in an attempt to stay warm. The poor kids had to wait forever to play their new electronic games, including the new Kinect which eventually dad and uncle Brad broke in for them. However, all in all it certainly was a Christmas to remember.
A week of a lifetime in one post.
I realize that my blog posts have not been coming as fast and furious as in the past. This has been one of the busiest periods of my life. I feel as if I have some things to write about, but I am also trying to keep things in order, and my time in perspective. I want to thank those of you who take the time to comment and say such nice things. So without further adieu, I am going to wrap up the end of our summer guests in this post, even though I could probably break it down into another 3-4 blogs.
As I have said in the past, when family comes to visit it gives us an excuse to act like tourists, so act like tourists we must, and we did. One of the first things we did was to hike up to Russian River Falls. Our main goal was to see some bears, and I figured this was as good a place as any. We didn’t see any bears, but we did see a Bri, and she walked all the way the falls, 2 miles each way, in Crocs with no socks. Oh did I mention she was pregnant? That is more rare than a bear in my mind, and worth the trip. Their only complaint, not enough potties along the way. I didn’t have a problem, but apparently they are used to having privacy. Which, as we all now, is a difficult proposition on the Kenai in July. It was an exhilarating hike, especially on the way back as there was a noticeable pep-in-the-step of those looking for the outhouse at the trailhead.
Tina near the end of the hike and near the end of her life?
Help, I've fallen and I can't get up!
I told you that they really had to go. I don't know who did it but...........
......... I don't know what aunt Bev is doing here.
Because of the lack of bears, we had to take a dangerous white water rapids trip down the Kenai River. Now when I say whitewater rapids I mean we saw one small patch of white water, and it almost splashed on me! I like to live on the edge. It was a lazy, cold trip down the Kenai, a good way to take a nap. And yes, we saw a bear. It was one of the Russian River Bears tearing into a salmon, so hopefully that made the trip worthwhile. They did have some good sausage and cheese prior to departing, so that was something! I don’t think it was quite as exciting as they expected, especially after they geared us up into 25 pounds of safety gear.
Livy and Alli testing out some prom outfits, if daddy got to choose that is!
Looks like we are all ready to get in the yellow submarine.
Not sure if I want to be on the raft that this crew is running.
notice, only one cool cat is wearing camo, and sun glasses, and a sweet ball cap ( I didn't want anyone to know that I was taking a paid rafting trip down the kenai!) Note the extreme amount of patches on the port bow of our raft, hmmmmmmm.
Money shot! No, that's not Shyla.
Unfortunately I had to work a few days, so the family had to do a few trips without me. They took a trip to Seward and to Girdwood, and spent some time in Anchorage, shopping. Which, shock of all shocks, was their favorite part of the trip.
So during their time up here in the last frontier, they got to experience pretty much all of the Kenai Peninsula. It was fun to have the real housewives of Moberly here for a visit. They put a twinkle in Tra’s eyes and made us stop on smell the rotten salmon carcasses. I find it is easy to forget how awesome of a place we live in; and the best way to get that feeling back is to see it through the eyes of someone who is appreciating it for the first time. Much like helping someone to catch their first salmon or halibut, there is great joy in that.
Jo n Kassie checking out the dippers on the Kenai River
the gratuitous fireweed shot. The bee adds a special something.
Only Austin would wade 50 feet away from a melting glacier, and smile.
Glenn said if you drink a gallon of it, you will look like Angeline Jolie.
Exit Glacier in Seward
It's receding faster than my hairline.
glacial hike
Mom, I think we found something for dinner! Alaska Wildberry in Anchorage.
Sorry baby, but this one is going to have to sleep with us.
I didn't have the heart to tell her that the bear is a breeding ground for lice from foreign tourists.
So now we are back to reality, back to the grind, back to work, back to the rain and early mornings, back to school, back to the cycle of life on the Kenai Peninsula. Excited for what is ahead and what God has in store for us. I have a funny feeling the next time family visits us, the backgrounds will look a lot different.
Briana, Lana, Aunt Bev and Tina ( Austin is probably fishing or swimming in the Kenai River) You are all welcome to our house anytime. Thanks for the laughs and the memories.
Salty Dawgs
My favorite part of our recent family visit was the “trip”. If you have been a follower of our blog, you know we like to take a boat trip every year over to Jakalof Bay to pick some berries and fish for some halibut. We decided it would be a good idea to take the ladies out and let them experience special part of Alaska. Like any good mariner, I checked the weather regularly before the day of the trip, and not once did it look very good. But since we were just jetting across the bay, I thought we could pull it off. So off we headed, back to Homer for a little adventure.
The gaggle of gals headed down to the boat, while I parked the car, and I could see them milling around the boat. To their delight a seal had decided to make a home on the swim-step of our boat. Someone had the foresight to keep Austin from harvesting it, and instead they took pictures like they were in a petting zoo.
Security guard for the boat
"Hey Tra do you think I can bring it home with me?"
With the lines tossed, we were on our way. It was a very pleasant trip, for about 10 minutes, then we snuck out around the spit. In an instant we were in it, The Perfect Storm. Okay, perhaps not quite that dramatic, but at least 6-7 footers, which to a 24 foot boat are pretty decent. I calmly answered the cries of ” is this normal?” or”are we going to die” and” I trust you, you wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t safe would you?” With a very calm and sweaty palmed ” This is nothing; a piece of cake” . ” I have been in much, much worse!” I didn’t tell them it was in 121 foot deep sea patrol vessel at the time.
The day started out beautifully.
Very soon shades of green were popping up amongst the passengers. I could tell, as the talking quickly subsided, minus the screams as we would crest the waves, that there was some uncertainty amongst us. Perhaps they were looking for a Jonah, and they kept eyeballing me. I knew it was far too late to turn around, and perhaps far too dangerous, so onward, upward, downward, upward, downward…… we continued. Every once in a while I had to pull back the throttle to keep us from slamming off the top of wave, which tended to add to the excitement.
Then for some reason I thought I would say something to comfort everyone. ” As long as the engine keeps running, we will be fine. ” Hmmmm, that didn’t come out as I expected, and it didn’t cause the reaction I was looking for. Eventually, in what probably seemed like hours to some, we pulled into the cover of the bay and all was well. We managed to tie up safely, eat some fried chicken, and go pick some salmon berries. I am not convinced they thought it was worth it, but I think they had fun once we got there.
Man I am happy to get off that boat with all them women!
The real housewives of Jakalof Bay have found their new home!
Lana tore that rope swing up!
Tina showing off her trophy berries
It's a bald bear, it's a bald eagle, nope it's super berry picker.
A view into the bay
A portion of our bounty
After several hours, we decided to try to catch some halibut, and I was anxious to try a new spot right outside the bay. As we cast the lines, I sensed a slight tinge of nervousness, as I assured them it would not be nearly as rough as before, and it wasn’t. However the motion of the boat in a long, almost gentle swell, while at anchor, seemed to have an even more adverse effect on the briny crew. Soon there were heads hanging over both sides of the boat, and Tina laughing her head off in the cabin. I knew it was bad when my first mate, whom I had never seen sick, succumbed to chumming over the port rail. You just better be thankful my camera isn’t a smell-o-vision.
Hey first mate, whatchya looking at?
Salty dawg fail.
Due to my ultra -sensitivity to those around me, and my first mate begging me to go, I decided that it was time to move on, halibut or not. We had one last spot to try, and then we would call it a day with only berries as our prize. A pride buster for any old salt. Again, this was a new spot, but it was in protected waters. However, we would once again have to cross the straits of horror to get there. But as I assured them, the ride would be much smoother as we would be traveling with the seas. The sick and wounded climbed into the bunk area and off we went.
Passing the honorary salty dawg initiaiton.
Attempting the honorary salty dog initiation
Failing the salty dawg initiation.
We made it across without too much excitement and managed to drop anchor in some flat calm waters. Very quickly the herring laden hooks were weighted and dropped and there they sat for a lengthy time. It was poor fishing. A fine finish to a fine day.
Again, my ultra-sensitivity radar kicked in and I could sense that the ladies wanted to call it a day. Perhaps the cat calls of ” how much longer” ” when we can we go” and “there’s no fish” aided in tuning in my radar. So as we always do we pulled up one line at a time. Dorian the die-hard always waiting to the last second, kept on fishing while I reeled all other lines in. Now this strategy never works. I can never, not one time remember catching a fish by cleaning up one rod at a time; except today. With three lines in the boat I hear Dorian ” Dad I got one” and I look over at his rod bent over mightily and I knew instantly it was a good fish. Quickly we put Austin’s rod back in the water and in a matter of seconds he had a big fish on.
Dorian saves the trip once again
Dorian informed me that this was a good fish, and having boated a 160 pounder last year, I figured he would know. So there I was bouncing between Dorian and Austin trying to help them land their catch. I figured Dorian would land his first, but every time it got close it made a run for the bottom. unfortunately the two halibut conspired to get the lines tangled up and Austin eventually lost his. After a lengthy battle Dorian was able to bring his to the surface and I harpooned her as if she was Moby Dick and I was Ahab. She figured to be in the 60 pound range, not huge but often the best fighters. While we let her rest I put Austin’s rod back in the water and once again he hooked into a big one, and once again he lost it. DANG!
Homer Harbor (some stinking tourists in the foreground)
By then it was time to go. Considering the start of the day, the ill-fated journey ended well. We harvested berries, saw a ghost ( ask Tra about that one) got some great pictures, got enough halibut to share, earned some awesome stories, saw some first class chumming and grunting, and grabbed a McKinley Mac on the way out-of-town. Even though they failed some of the tests, I have now declared all on-board official salty dawgs. Next time we will look for some real rough water.
Day one of visitor fun
Summer time in Alaska may not bring warm air, but it quite often brings warm houses, in the form of extra bodies and house guests. Even a house already full of bodies, such as ours, is no exception. Much like the salmon migrating upstream, the lower 48 relatives migrate north to Alaska; not that we mind. In fact we enjoy it thoroughly and it gives us an excuse to act like a tourist, which I am not too good at doing. This year it was Tracy’s Aunts, well actually only one of them was her real aunt but all familial ladies who don’t have a formal title are addressed as aunt. The others were her cousins, one of their 16-year-old son’s, and a new friend, her real aunt’s daughter-in-law. They were a hoot.
Meet the Gang, Breana (sp?) Lana, Tracy, Tina and Bev
Scenes from the Homer pullout
Jo enjoying the scenery, and yes this is proof we had at least one sunny day this summer
The first thing you need to know about Tracy is that she is from Missouri. When I met her, she a twang about her. I can’t explain it, I can’t duplicate it, but I can certainly hear it. I brought her all the way up to Alaska to break her of her twang. However the twang isn’t permanently gone, it comes and goes. When she is on the phone with her mom for more than 5 minutes, it is twang city. So imagine what happens when 5 of her family members show up for a visit for 10 days: Twang Town. As she would say ” it was a goin”. It was especially goin every night when they all gathered in the living room after the day’s activities. Five Missouri twangers, laughing, sharing, and twanging. In its own way, it was endearing, but not enough to keep me from going to bed.
Picnic on the Spit. Corn dogs are the perfect picnic food.
Dorian convincing the ladies that this is the prized catch in Alaska, and that they should fillet it up and bring it home.
Dorian and Austin working the water for anything that will bite.
Austin and his first Alaskan trophy!
Now when people come to visit, we always want to share the “real” Alaska with them. We want to take them off the tourist routes and to places that they can see things that most visitors will not. So the first thing we did was what every local Soldotanian likes to do in July, get the heck out of here. So we drove south to Homer. It turned out to be one of the truly nice days we had all summer.
Jo doing something somewhere in Homer
Notice any resemblance?
I wanted to make sure Austin got to experience true Alaskan fishing, so I figured we would catch something on the spit and it did not disappoint. Although we were mostly skunked, Austin managed to get himself a pollock, or trash not worthy of bait, as we would call it. But hey, he caught a fish.
Tina working it on the beach
Tina at it again. Don't know if she is using this bulb kelp as a microphone, or eating it. Either way it probably went home with her in her suitcase.
For some reason, I think they would fit in perfect in Kasilof.
Of course there was shopping, dock walking, bird watching and all the things one does in Homer. But who knew that the highlight of the day, at least for young Austin was the McKinley Mac. Yep, the one and only McKinley Mac found only at your local Alaskan McDonald’s. It would be a highly sought after prize for the remainder of their trip, and since I am not a tourist, I have never had one. Better put that on my bucket list!
Mizzou representing on the spit!
to be continued:
As the rain falls, a hero emerges
If you love to get out in the wild, get some piece and quiet, away from the hustle and bustle and get back in touch with the nature, then don’t come camping with us. If you want to eat a lot of food, have fresh coffee every morning, enjoy the rain and the noise of kids running wild, and still have access to the internet, then you want to camp with us.
hopefully Amber and Glenn get this done before bed time.
not very good hiders
my ladies on the bridge
Alli and Jo, on a rock DOWN BY THE RIVER!
Every year we try to get out and rough it at least once a summer. We find a nice cozy campground with water and a bathroom, a latte stand within driving distance, cell signal and preferably a river or lake nearby, and then head out for a night or two of miserable sleep, lots of bug, wet clothes and great company. This year it was us, the Daniels, the Davis’s and some Katzenbergers. So by my math that is 7 adults and 18 kids, or what you may call sheer paradise.
Fishing women
That hole has no fish left, just a hunch
Momma and Jo
Jason in the wilderness, just him and his iphone.
One thing you must know about camping with us, expect rain. Don’t think “it might rain” don’t be fooled by cloudless 70 degree days, don’t even bother looking at the weather, it will rain. If we camped in the middle of the Sahara Desert during the dry season, it would rain. When the Godfrey’s camp, it rains. As long as it is warm, we deal with it. By warm I mean above 50 degrees during the daylight hours.
Did you hear something?
maybe it was a fish
I like your boots Jake
Modeling for momma, cuz she made us
One huge advantage to camping with us is that you don’t usually have to worry about bears. You see the trick is to let all the kids out to run wild all over the campground, screaming, running, throwing things, screaming, crying, screaming and not only would any bear in its right mind stay as far away as possible, so do all other campers. Hence, we usually have the campgrounds to ourself.
Do you think we should be helping them set up the tent?
kids, fire, food, danger?
this crew cooked breakfast all day long
Not cooking, just warming my head.
Jeremy's catch, just a little late for dinner
a little fireside entertainment provided by Jace, hopefully it wasn't the Beastie Boys
During this camping trip I found a true hero. Now hero is a word that is thrown around loosely, but here I witnessed a true one. I believe we established that is going to rain, so I came prepared. This time I brought a tarp, not any tarp, a tarp that could serve as a runway in small village. The only people motivated enough to use the tarp were me and Ryan, so we got to work. As the rain fell we came with a master plan to cover the whole camp with the tarp. Things were going smoothly, the running lines were holding, the trees were well placed, the architectural plan was sound and we just needed everyone to get involved for one final pull to cover the rest of the camp. Unfortunately there was a minor flaw. You see, we already had the fire going. In fact, when we started putting the tarp up, Angie, Tra, Amber and the kids were cooking smores and enjoying the show.
So technically she's not eating in the background, but she is about to, and that's a big bag o chips.
you can't camp without some twister
Scary story time. Skip the story, just look at these faces...
...or these faces
but especially these faces in the light! Yikes!
Fortunately, the kids were excited to play with the earth darkening tarp, and dropped their marshmallow sticks and grabbed hold. Shoot, even Jason and Tra grabbed a corner. This is where it went all wrong. Our plan was to have a lean-to style covering to allow the smoke to escape. But instead, as everyone began to pull, we ended with more of like a giant teepee, with Ryan holding it up where the hole should be. Within seconds we realized this was not a good plan. Immediately we lost our sight due to the density of the smoke, seconds later we could not breathe. I tried to scream for the kids to let go, but I could barely breathe. Then Ryan, standing on a picnic table, holding up the center of the tarp screamed ” EVERYONE OUT” ! As he stayed firm holding up the tarp buried in deadly smoke, allowing all others to escape. This was paramount to shouting “SAVE YOURSELF!!!!!” The words of a true hero. As I ran out, to grab the edge of the tarp mind you, I saw out of the corner of my eye that Angie was still standing by the fire, marshmallow stick in her left hand, finishing the last bite of smore not looking a bit concerned. I would put a picture of this, but she has threatened to kill me if I post one more picture of her eating. Everyone else was coughing, scattering and screaming…. with laughter. Finally I was able to move the tarp, hoping beyond hope that Ryan was still alive, for my CPR had expired a year ago, and to my great relief he emerged, my new hero, with an ashen covered face. He had sacrificed himself for the good of the camp.
from amongst the ashes a hero emerges
the backside of the finished product
the front side of the finished design
enjoying the fruits of our labor and near death experience
Needless to say, we did not give up and eventually the tarp did rise, with a new architectural plan. And much like the tarp, a new hero emerged in my eyes. As I sat chilled, near the crisp fire under the tarp listening to the rain mercilessly beating down, I reflected on what another great camping adventure we had just experienced, then I pulled out my iphone, went to craigslist and started pricing travel trailers.
The wild beasts of Fuller Lakes
Imagine the rare 75 degree Alaska day; you have a day off from work and decide to hike 3 miles away from civilization, to a lake teeming with rainbows and dolly varden. You arrive, dripping sweat from the steep hike, but alone with a slight breeze and the sun beaming down on the lake. There are small pockets of snow, a welcome anomaly, you grab a handful and rub it on the back of your neck to cool down. Then you notice the fish are feeding, and whip out your fly rod and begin casting. The slight breeze helps you place the tiny mosquito fly you tied yourself in near perfect position, as you get a strike on your first cast. You haven’t even taken your backpack off your back, but the quiet solitude, the sheep on the mountain, the only sounds of the water cascading from the beaver dam and your fly line whipping in the wind are perfection. You can’t imagine a better day or a better way to spend Memorial Day.
Fresh at the start of Fuller Lakes Trail
Jace and Jeremy taking a breather
Who looks the most tired in this group?
Then you hear it ” The last one up is a stinky fish head!” ” hey quit pushing me!” ” I can’t wait to jump in!” “Get outta my wayyyyyy!!!” That would be us, the Godfrey Daniels crew, a party of 17 entering into your perfect wilderness setting. The last place you would expect to see 13 kids from 5-16 dragging four adults up the side of a mountain. I know you go up there to get away from the hustle and bustle, to spend time in nature and enjoy the quiet and solitude, but so did we. Our strategy is different though. You see we hike the mountain to burn the kids out so when we go home and eat dinner, they go to bed. Then, and only then can we enjoy our quiet and solitude. Instead of a fly rod we will likely have a remote control in our hand, but the effect will be the same.
You can see the very happy fisherman if the background
Arrival of the truly wild beasts of the wilderness
No wonder I could keep up with Ben, he only had one shoe on!
Thinking about the kids being in bed by 9
So we apologize to you Mr. fisherman hiker, but we do not regret that Memorial Day Trek. That hike created some more life long memories, but most importantly, it got the kids quietly in bed by 9 pm on warm summer school-less day; and because of that, I predict there will be many more hikes to come this summer. In fact, if you are planning to scale Mt. McKinley this year, don’t be surprised if you hear ” the last one up is a stinky dog toot”, and turn your head just in time to see a party of 17 on your heels.
They had no idea I was even taking a picture
Jason and Angie with Skilak lake in the background
Fish watching
sheep watching
Olivias
Gangstas of Fuller Lake
"Um, I wasn't playing in the water."
"I'm not playing in the water!"
A parting shot of Skilak
Success! Now only 6 more to go!
