Alert Alert!

Sunset in Playa Del Rey

We made it! All the way to Los Angeles California! With a great visit to southern California underway we have had a bonfire on the beach as the planes of LAX flew overhead, walked to the Santa Monica Boardwalk, and visited with our good friends. What a relaxing and pleasant visit we have had. We went on much needed errands, watched surfers and pelicans, and ate wonderfully! Thanks so much to our friends Valen and Joe and some new friends too for making our stay so enjoyable. We're having such a good time we don't want to leave, but we are saying goodbye tomorrow and our friends are moving all the way back across the country to the Northeast again. Thanks to Joe for some pictures, and also his wonderful photography advice and expertise! Our journey from rigt coast to left coast feels as if it has just begun, and we're headed off to an un determined national park next.

Walking in the sunset

The beach in Santa Monica

Joe, Valen, Emma, and Patrick

Mountains to Desert

Right now we are sitting cozily in our faithful scamp in central Arizona at Lost Dutchmen State Park. We have had some adventures in the past week which we have been too busy having for me to write about once again. It feels somewhat inconsistent to have written so little about our adventures and does not really do them the justice that they deserve to merely summarize, but that’s what I will have to do I’m afraid. It’s much more fun to write about what we’re doing now!

We traveled through Texas and stayed at a beautiful state park with amazing views of the Davis mountain range which was a lovely morning surprise to wake up and see mountains glowing orange, and small phantoms of mist rising off of the desert. Complete with a hot spring for swimming, it is a very scenic and beautiful park.

How mountainous this whole area has been from western Texas, up into New Mexico and then over along Route 10 (if you feel like looking at a map) I have never imagined this area to be so full of mountains. We keep joking that every mountain range we see must be the Rockies, every corner we turn we say “That’s them; they’ve GOT to be the Rockies.”

We spent a day and night at the Guadalupe Mountains National Park right on the border of New Mexico which we had literally to ourselves and one other human. The camping area is right at the base of the mountains and we got some killer winds, coyote sounds, photographs and a great walk through the low lying canyon.

After over thirty five hundred our muffler sadly decided to detach itself from our car. This created an epic diesel fog in the cabin of the car, and the surrounding area! I’m laughing so hard as I write this. A mysterious rattle that could not be located resulted in this problem, so we decided not to stay another night in the Guadalupe Mountains and to head north to Roswell New Mexico to get it repaired. We arrived to sleet and an overnight snow that iced the doors shut and iced our pillows to the insides of the camper! We have zero degree sleeping bags so we were warm and fine, but if you had seen us stumbling out the good old Beatrice in the morning to find ice and snow plastered to everything, I’m sure you would have enjoyed it. Our visit included a visit to my Grandfathers grave, some family genealogy tracking, visits to the library, antique and bookstore. The most amazing car junk yard that Pat and I have ever seen lay just on the outskirts of town filled to the brim with incredible old cars in amazing condition. Everyone in Roswell seems to have a fabulous looking old truck from the fifties or sixties that isn’t rusted like our cars back east! Old car lovers we couldn’t get enough. We got a kick of driving around and looking at the southwest style holiday decorations, kids playing in the snow with no winter coats, and the absence of plows! It hasn’t rained in over a year there so this was the first precipitation they’ve seen in a long time. Our car was repaired quickly, we met some very friendly and talkative local folks and met an adventurous and kind woman in our campground (hello if you’re reading this!) who is also traveling across the country from Washington State headed toward the east coast.

Our drive from Roswell to Phoenix Arizona over the past couple of days has been very beautiful. We drove through the Mescalaro Apache Reservation which was one of the prettiest areas on our whole trip, took pictures of mountains while leaning out of car windows in the freezing cold, ate delicious Mexican pastries and marveled at the changing scenery.

Today it has changed so fast to cactus country. We have an incredible guard over our campsite this evening, a tall twenty five foot tall Saguaro cactus! There have been some along the highway that have to be taller than that, absolutely massive incredible plants.

It feels so strange that we can get to all these places on a series of roads, it feels like we should have to work a lot harder to get to these incredible sights, years ago it would have been on foot or horseback as the native peoples of this area would have thousands of years ago. We certainly appreciate the variety of places that we’ve gotten to go, it’s just a big like feeling jet lagged from a long trip. A week ago we were looking at cypress tree’s in Louisiana and now we’re accompanied by cactus and sandy desert. To walk from one place to the next you would really get to see the slow change from environment to environment. Here I am cooking up the walking idea! Watch out!

So in this land of dry earth and a thousand shades of brown, and a perpetual blue sky we spend the night. It is clear outside and stars dot the sky despite the city lights of Phoenix nearby. After following the train tracks all day and watching the relics of lost desert towns we landed here and we are glad of it. It is a strange land filled with yellow planes scanning the borders of Mexico and flying over the highways, to the perpetual barbed wire fence that seems to stretch from Tennessee to the ranches here, it is a different culture but still connected to everything that came before it. I feel like we are in a constantly moving painting stretching out in front of us to a never ending skyline and mountains that fool us into believing that we exist on the top of the world.
Tomorrow it is off to Los Angeles to see our very good friend and to meet new ones too. To the big city these to country kids go. Hopefully the crazy winds will allow us into the fair city to a barbecue at the beach that has been promised on our arrival!

Cypress Rythm

Where the alligators float in Louisiana...

A big papa cypress spared from logging long ago, one of the bigggest in the Jean Lafitte National Park

We’re leaving New Orleans Louisiana and going through central Texas now, through San Antonio. Yes we went to LA and then we went. Went and went as I say. Straight from Memphis and through the night through a dark and rainy Mississippi we drove. To land ourselves in what will remain an unnamed RV park that we passed by at twelve AM in our quest for sleep.

Cypress in the Jean Lafitte National Park

Louisiana was everything and more than we thought it might be, a landscape dotted with cypress trees and homes nestled in among the swamps and bayous. The only way out by small boats, hidden in among the moss covered trees that drip down onto the edges of the bayou banks. I regret not writing while we were there, but as usual our running was faster than typing hands could keep up with. So many new colors and sounds and birds and plants it was overwhelmingly beautiful.

We visited the magnificent French Quarter in downtown New Orleans creatively built homes inspired by Spanish, French, West Indian, and African influence. Stucco painted in every color, but muted with age. Iron railings, shutters a story tall, and old stone streets meshed with new sidewalks slowly being upturned by tree roots and old age.

The French Quarter in New Orleans

We got to pay a visit to the New Orleans favorite music hall, Preservation Hall. A small room packed with history and legendary players, literally preserved for the players that are still performing the music that was born in New Orleans. Where the confluence of so many cultures from around the world blended to create a new sound that still lives on today thanks to the musicians keeping it alive.  We got to sit on pillows on the floor to hear the Joint Chief’s of Jazz play to us, and I felt like I was a little kid sitting underneath a Christmas tree. Paintings of the people that made music famous in the city line the walls and the light moves very softly throughout the room. A block over on the infamous Bourbon Street there are long lines of bars playing modern music, and the fact that Preservation Hall is still packed on a Wednesday night shows the enduring legacy to the music played there. I wish there had been more of it!

Jean Lafitte National Park, hey everybody!

Old street history

We got a great tip from our park ranger where we were staying on a great restaurant called Coops Place. Best Ever. Two words, that’s it. We also visited the Jean Lafitte National park and walked through the Cypress swamp and marshland areas. There in the downtown our feet stood on the promenade dotted with paint from the sidewalk portrait painters. Voodoo shops with charms and beads and masks, fortune tellers with candlelit tables lined the park in the center of the city at night, and music emanates from alleyways and shop fronts and sidewalk players. Our visit lasted for three days and we really enjoyed the friendliness of the people we met, and relaxed attitude and is our favorite place we’ve visited so far. If you get to pay a visit we’d highly recommend it, and the friendly folks at Bayou Segnette state park in Westwego Louisiana. A fitting name for the journey we’re on, and today we’re doing just that, heading west again across the great big state of Texas.

Till later on,

Emma

Nashville to Memphis

Friday Night in Nashville is a fun place. Occupying a handful of city blocks in downtown Nashville, the old fashioned bar and music filled area or your imagination is brightly light and crowded. It reminded Pat and I a lot of Hartford, a lot of big businesses empty at night, with just a few blocks of bars and clubs colorfully displayed for the choosing.

We arrived at a campground outside of the city by about ten miles and were greeted by a Christmas light show in full nighttime regalia just next door, and entertaining holiday surprise. The camper culture we’re learning is an eclectic one. People walk their cats on leashes, and have very elaborate set ups. We’ve seen some interesting inventions thus far, including tow behind waste water tanks that are basically like glorified children’s wagons that you tow to what we’ve learned is a “dump station”. Also things like huge white globes that people use to watch their dish TV’s, and some folks bring along an entire holiday decoration setup complete with light up animals.

After our arrival we met with a very helpful bus driver who was taking his rig home for the night to the bus station across the road from us. We were hoping to catch a shuttle to the downtown area that we were told was running (we waited an hour in vain) and he helped get us where we were going with pro directions! He made phone calls for us and even gave us coupons, a very helpful guy from the Grayline Bus Company, we thank you!

We made it to the downtown area thanks to our friend’s expertise, so quiet surrounding the nightlife, to walk downhill to bar owners hawking the “best bands in town” and music coming out of open air bars. We made it to “Roberts Western World” and got to listen to a couple bands, only one of which we got to hear the name of, the Don Kelly Band. We were all packed so deep down the long narrow passageway of the place I couldn’t even see (not surprising as most of you know my height) but the music was top notch. A real country and western band check them out. We roamed the streets trying to decide what band to hear, drank spicy hot chocolate, and talked about the music politics of the town. Both being performing musicians ourselves, we wondered what it must be like playing in such a famous city, a city built on it’s musical reputation and what the “real story” is.  There are such good bands that are playing for tips. Literally. There is much debate that surrounds this topic, and not living here myself I feel hesitant to draw a hasty conclusion, but I feel that musicians deserve a fair wage and that to the general public, a lot of things may go unnoticed. From the amount of work that goes into carrying gear from your house all the way to a crowded bar, to booking and finance, it’s a complicated business, and not everyone always has the musicians best interest in mind.

The creative prize of the night went to a duo playing drums and guitar running their amps off of their car battery, parked in an ally off the main street. Several street players lined the sidewalks playing everything from classical violin and drums while rapping, a very fast but fun sampling of the cities music culture.

 The next morning (this past Saturday now) we woke to temperatures that had to be in the seventies, we packed up our things and headed out for our half days drive to Memphis Tennessee. Our favorite stretch of road this far, central to western TN was beautiful, dotted with several state parks and wildlife preserves, the woodland slowly dissipates to a flatter landscape of open land and farm country. I’d like to go back and visit some of the parks there it seems to be a very beautiful part of the state.

 We arrived in Memphis on Saturday night, and ready for some more music. We’re trying to make it a point of our journey to at least get to hear a small bit of the music scene in each place we visit.

 I had booked a tour to see the Gibson Factory that is in the downtown area of Memphis and we arrived just in time after spending a little while trying to find a place to park with Beatrice. My father played a Gibson as a young person and then played it to me all while growing up. He purchased a really special little Gibson for me as my first guitar when I was ten years old. It sat around for a little while until I felt ready to play and didn’t mind having my fingers bleed to learn a bit. So the instruments have a special spot in my life.

In the Memphis

After our tour was done we headed down to the famous Beale Street, where just like Nashville there were bars and bands and way too much to choose from. It was around five so we didn’t get to see it really hopping. We got to eat some great creole food, and heard a band at B.B. Kings Blues Club. I sadly have no pictures of the factory as your are not allowed to take pictures, and I also have pictures of the street scene or restaurant because it was absolutely pouring rain the whole night, so you will have to imagine in your mind what you want Memphis to look like. Very different from Nashville it’s so funny that only a couple of hundred miles away the culture can be so different.

We went to our campsite, and after I left very little guessing for you all we woke up on Elvis Presley Boulevard the next morning…

Into Graceland, the home of Elvis Presley we went. My unhindered love of Elvis’s music as a kid I have to say still remains till now. His was one of the first albums I ever remember wanting to own, his name in gold letters in the top left hand corner with a black and white picture of him on stage. A fun  thing I've always wanted to get to do, I was glad for the visit.

PS.

On a side note I am unable to download any more pictures right now due to the computer making problems...I guess they'll have to wait,

Thanks for reading, till next time,

Emma

Guess where...

We are now going to play a little game of guess where we are. I'll make it easy on you.

On our way to where we are now, we've seen several images and statues of this gentleman here. This is a ride in Seaside Park NJ.

At a hotdog shop in Williamsburg VA.

Missing his microphone in Nashville TN.

Where to next you wonder.....

Music City here we Come!

We’re cruising down I 81 in Tennessee, blue grey sky watching the starlings migrate. Hawks and horses occupy the highway sides, as do the cows and the Blue Ridge Mountains that frame everything into a beautiful picture fit for a postcard. Good Highway 81 that takes you far south, the road that occupies my mind whenever I think of traveling down here. Where the highway speed turns to seventy, and crosses dot the landscapes and hillsides. About an hour ago we saw a building that had a sign that said “Jesus saves” and below it another sign saying “We buy guns.” The contradictions and cleverness of the south and its people never ceases to entertain and inform. In some ways you know exactly how people think, with confederate flags still flying high in the backs of trucks and highway rest stops, there is pride in their cultural history, and their place in this nation. In other ways there is a subtlety and quietness to the people here, and a generosity and big a heart.

Traveling feels a bit slow while towing the good old Scamp behind us. We're averaging about sixty miles an hour so far... She’s attracted quite a bit of attention in the past couple of days, and were told by some Colonial Williamsburg employees that she was the talk of the town! We’ve gotten some enthusiastic questions about where we got it, and where can other people find one, and how much did it cost. I’m thinking of maybe for fun at some point having a little question and answer session to share with all of you the details of life in the Scamp. We expect that this is not the last of the curiosity; it certainly brings those who have travelling on the mind right out of the woodwork and into the open.

We’ve gotten some questions with regard to posting comments here on the blog. First off we’d love to hear your comments, like little postcards from back home. Stay tuned for a post about how to go about posting!

Thanks for reading today,

Emma and Pat

Cobblestone, brick layed, cedar shakes so old.

Hello All,

So follow up on my last post I’d like to tell you a bit about our excursion into Colonial Williamsburg Virginia. First I have to tell you that I’ve wanted to travel there since I was a little girl. I have always loved old things, whether they are homes or clothing, tools or heirloom vegetables I love them, and they draw me toward them inescapably. So to venture back into time where everything was so beautifully handmade, where horses ruled transportation and so did feet, there is within me still that excited little girl. I was lucky to have a mother who sewed me beautiful colonial style dresses and who found a hoop skirt for me as Christmas present one year. We used to take trips to Old Sturbridge Village in Massachusetts, a living history museum complete with buildings and people in period costumes inhabiting them. This appreciation stems from the love of the handmade, from a father who works with his hands to build furniture and homes, and both of my parents together had a vested interest in showing me how the things we use everyday are made.

To start our visit we arrived late in the afternoon and decided to take a look around the City of Williamsburg. You can walk throughout the historic town on public streets, but a ticket is required to enter many of the buildings where exhibits of colonial businesses and homes are taking place. Costumed interpreters in period dress roam the streets making conversation with one another and with visitors. All of the the tradespeople in the shops are practicing their work for real application within the city. For instance the wheel wright makes wheels for the carriages that carry people around the city. The cabinet makers are building furniture for buildings on the site.

We walked around till dusk and decided to go to one of the evenings many events, a ghost walk! Led by candlelight to various buildings throughout the city, we sat within the walls of history and listened to the ghost stories from people portraying actual old characters. It was neat being able to see the city from the inside at night. From a woman who was haunted by the death of her young son and passed away in England thousands of miles away who still haunts the local Matthew Whaley School, to a nurse who could have been the culprit in burning down the Governors Palace, it was a great blend of history and story.

On Wednesday we started our day with another walking tour, this time focusing on slavery in the city of Williamsburg. The one aspect of the city that seems only partially portrayed is that reality of slavery and how large the population of the enslaved really was.. Our guide led us to several buildings, first to the church which was used as a tool to justify the treatment of slaves, to the courthouse to speak of the punishments slaves would receive for hardly any infraction of their station, and finally to stand beneath a large oak to talk about unearthing these injustices so that we can all know the reality of what their lives meant to our culture and history. Pat and I always enjoy the back story behind history and politics and that the truth of our country usually lies within the stories of people that as our guide said “Have been erased out of history.”

We also went to the De Witt Museum that houses several exhibits including colonial era furniture, old coins and money used in the first colonies. Right now there is an exhibit on 18^th century maps from different areas in the world, written and drawn up by different explorers, a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, and a dollhouse that was in the store windows of the F.A.O Schwartz toy store in the nineteen thirties.

During our stay in town we also visited the cooper, the blacksmith, the cabinet maker, and the magazine which housed the weapons and ammunition for the city. My personal favorite was the farm! Complete with pigs horses and working cattle, a smokehouse, a tobacco barn and small dwellings where the slaves would have lived. I think it’s the prettiest part of the whole time, not surprising as I love and have worked on farms and have a big interest in agriculture from a simpler time.

All in all we’re loving our entry into the south, we’ve both been here and like the slower pace and friendliness of the people. It was fun to see the eastern part of Virginia where neither one of us have been to before. Many steps back into the past and now onto who knows what! To follow are some more pictures.

Till next time

Emma