After meeting my new man, and subsequently realizing I’d never been to his hometown/state, I finally ventured out to Washington just in time for his annual family camping trip. En route, I flew over Mt. St. Helens, Mt. Baker and Mt. Rainier at 30,000 feet and even caught a glimpse of Seattle. We made out way straight to the woods, a much needed respite from the mundanity that has been my schedule lately, in an area near Lake Kachess. For 4 days I was without internet connection or cell service, and boy do I miss it.

Here are some snapshots.

At first I thought this was Mt. Rainier, but as I look closer at the top, it looks like it has erupted at some point, making me believe it’s actually Mt. St. Helens… could be wrong, but it’s beautiful nonetheless. [I stand corrected...this is Mt. Hood. And has never erupted ]

Another shot from the sky. This, I believe, is actually Mt. Rainier. See how the top is still intact?

After a hike to the top, looking out at Lake Kachess. Simply beautiful.

A shot of seattle from the plane. I didn’t get to spend time in Seattle, as I was camping all weekend, but next trip I’ll definitely venture into the city.

A shot of the mountainscape adjacent to Lake Kachess. The last day we were here, I spent some time reflecting during sunset.

At dusk, and before mine and Jordan’s return down the hill, through the forest, in the dark.

When we returned, it was time to sit by the fire with Jordan’s family and mentally prepare for a return to the city. One I was definitely not ready for.

As you can see, Washington state is beautiful. I look forward to spending more time out there, and seeing everything it has to offer. I’d love to visit Puget Sound, Seattle, wine country, and hike some of Mt. Ranier. If you’ve been to Washington, feel free to comment with some recommendations!

Mules, if you haven’t seen one in person before- which I clearly had not- are the same size as a horse but have oversized ears and slumpy heads. Not so much the regal animal that the horse is. Bred from a male donkey and a female horse, Mules are thicker in stature, yet toned more like a horse. Easily confused by the untrained eye.

An equestrian I am not, but I really like riding horses. Did I mention that mules ride nothing like horses. Yes, they gallup, trot and neigh, but their actions happen at about a third of the speed.

Anyways, all in all the 4-hour “adventure ride” turned out well. We scaled the sides of valley ravines, crossed creeks of tumbling rocks and even side-swiped a cactus or two. Quite the adventure.

Apparently, at some point last night the auxiliary battery died- causing the heat to shut off. Even after reading the owner’s manual, the cause of my glacial awakening goes unknown.

It is now nearly 1pm and I have refused to get up from bed for anything but to brush my teeth and grab a bowl of cereal. Oh, and to turn the heat back on. The radio is on Jill Fm, the “diva on the dial” playing everything from Backstreet Boys to the Moody Blues. Can’t figure out exactly what this “diva” is thinking with such a compilation.

Maybe this afternoon I’ll let the awning out, I can throw down a blanket outside, and grill some habanero and chicken bratwurst while taking in some sun. The campground we’re stay at- the O’Neill Regional Park- has horse trails, bike paths and hiking trails along the river and make for great ambiance.

I’ll also be nursing my bruised rib back to health…youch!

Until next time,

Mia

Our camp spot was partly shaded and looked over the Arroyo Trabuco (better known as Trabuco River). I couldn’t wait to eat. Note to self: Skipping breakfast before a road trip is not the best idea.

After recuperating from the bratwurst-induced food coma, we took the bikes out for a trail ride on the rocky shores of the Trabuco River. We trekked up a steep mountain filled with shoulder-high weeds and dry brush in search of a view of the entire canyon only to find ourselves at the edge of a highway.

Apparently we hadn’t travelled far enough east to avoid urban disturbances.

More tomorrow.

For the past 3 years I have spent the holiday season (usually December 27th- January 3rd) on some sort of road trip or travel and have found it to be a great time to get away from all things comfortable and see things from a different perspective upon my return.

Road trips before the new year give you time to reflect on all that has happened in the last year and mentally prepare to return home with a new perspective. This year’s holiday road trip was spent in the U.S. for once, visiting Yuma, Phoenix, Scottsdale and Tucson, Arizona. The vast deserts and multicolored sunsets have provided me with the respite that I had been needing in order to sum up the events of 2009.

It’s also nice to get out of your element. We are, by nature, creatures of habit and by stepping away from all that is normal in our lives, we are allowed to see more clearly the things we seek to change or improve in our lives.

Now, I may be biased- seeing as there is obviously a direct connection with travel and my career- but I truly believe that  returning to your home creates a nice segue into the new year.

With only a general direction (East) and a final destination in mind (Tucson and Patagonia), I have been letting the people I meet along the way plan the next destination.

In Los Angeles, it was suggested I take the Interstate-8 out to Arizona.

Stopping at a national park for the night, just off of the 8fwy and Sunrise Highway, we pulled off at a turnout and had a beautiful view. The next morning, I met a man who was flying a remote ariplane off the side of the cliff.

I asked him if there was anything he’d recommend seeing off of the 8 freeway and he mentioned a 15 minute drive to a cliff in which the vast desert landscape could be seen for what looked like an eternity. I started to imagine pioneering these lands and having no idea what was ahead.

From there, we saw signs for a lookout tower, where I met an interesting coon-skin hat-wearing man and his pet lab-rat. He gave us our next destination. Felicity.

The Official Center of The World in Felicity, CA is the last exit before Arizona, and has an undefined total population count.

The attraction boasts miles of granite walls in which the history of the universe has been etched by artists from around the World. This documentation of significant events, people and wildlife serves to provide the future with a keen sense of our existence as we know it.

Off in the distance, I heard someone murmur “it’s so that aliens know all about us when they come.” or something to that effect. To be honest, it did seem odd that so much of this man’s money was being dedicated to this project…in the middle of nowhere.

Just after the tour, the woman pointed off to Yuma and mentioned the Territorial Prison where many Old West desperadoes were held for unruly gunfire.

So, here I am in Yuma. Met some locals last night at Red’s Birdcage- the most popular bar in town. Today, I rode my bike around the entire city and found that one day in Yuma was more than enough.

Want to help choose my next stop? Leave a comment with the destination and why it’s worth visiting!

Photos courtesy of Wil Fernandez

On a recent RV road trip to Indio, CA to spend the weekend at Phish Festival 8 , I found myself in a surplus of precarious situations. While roaming the aisles of campers and tents, I could smell fresh garlic-grilled cheeses made by the most nomadic of hippies, the aroma of wild fruit from the on-site farmers market and the redolence of dry, desert dust being kicked up by the thousands of anxious fans.

I climbed up the back ladder to the top of the RV and placed a papasan chair next to a copy of my oh-so-invigorating Mass Media Law textbook. There was no way I could study in a place like this. I wanted to explore. It was 9 AM, the desert sun beating down on me with a power that was unfamiliar to me this season. Was it really only 80* ? I hopped down the side of the RV and ran in for a popsicle, came back out and continued my read as I looked out a the vast ocean of people.

To the left I spotted a triple-decker, maroon colored bus whose almost liquid shellacking beamed right into my face. The sign on the rear view mirror read: “Welcome, Come in,” but I wouldn’t actually make it there until the last of the three-day festival. There was something odd about it.

By 10 o’clock the sun shone down with the most intense winter rays. I had soon realized that Indio had no winter before dusk. when the sun sets though, you better be bundled. For the time being, I retreated to the comfort of the air-conditioned RV and studied while I waited out the intense noon-ish heat.

I dressed for the first day of what would be my first jam-band concert. Amongst the dead-heads

and free-spirited adventurers, I spread the blanket out and waited for Phish’s lead guitarist to grace the stage. And he did; they all did. It was a great show. People in costumes (seeing as it was Halloween weekend), children you’d swear were too young for the raucous, and me, in a state of stimulus intake. There were so many exhibits and costumes to see, a wonderland of things to eat and even more comedic conversations to over-hear.

The festival as a whole was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I like doing things like that. By the third day, November 1, I had just about seen the whole camp-ground, ventured around the masses of people and fire-statue exhibits and finally made my way to the big triple-decker bus.

I stepped RIGHT into the midst of what many call a cult. It was their bus,and the mid-sixties aged men and women sat contently, talking about the death sentence that man has been doomed to as a result of inevitable sin. The Twelve Tribes Commonwealth of Israel. As I walked around, in awe of the bus that these individuals had spent 3 years building, the members shared with us their beliefs and their idea of service to God. It was truly unlike anything I’d ever heard, and quite frankly I was a little worried I wouldn’t make it out before they gave me a hebrew version of my birth name. So, I stepped out, passed the 20 beds, full kitchen and hardwood seating area- back into what wouldn’t usually seem like normalcy. This time, it was.

Monday morning came and it was time to go home. Although I’m not one to stay in one place long, I was looking forward to my bed, shower and sea-side residence. Phish Fest Success.

From my previous travels and venturing around Austin, I was reminded somewhat of a unique blend of Bourbon Street and a country-style Downtown San Diego. The Downtown Austin area is flourishing with new and unusual architecture (most notably the armadillo-inspired City Hall Building- even has a tail!), blocks of bars with live, local bands and rows of tourist-ridden shops selling the infamous “Keep Austin Weird” shirts.

Visiting Austin Texas for the Austin City Limits festival was a great experience. Yea, so it rained pretty gruesomely all day Saturday, but luckily that was the day I decided to skip and explore around Austin, check out the Austin capitol building, and eat some delicious southern food. I even saw a Michael Moore film, Capitalism: A Love Story at the Alamo Drafthouse a dinner movie theater with full service. Can you believe the movie was only $9.00 and the food wasn’t even overpriced!

Friday and Sunday I slept in until 11 am and dilly-dallied until I was ready to make my way to the festival. Once I got there, I realized it was NOTHING like I expected. It was easy-going, few restrictions and a LOT of people. In comparison to Coachella, ACL wasn’t nearly as restrictive. People had blankets, chairs, blow-up and life size Gumby dolls, Flagpoles with distinctive flags adorning them and quite a bit of muddy debauchery. I was excited to see Pearl Jam, Kings of Leon, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Bassnectar and tons of other cool bands.

Here are a few pictures.

My ultimate goal is to incorporate my writing into a career that will allow me to travel, explore cultures unlike my own, visit historic landmarks and meet those who also value the excitement that ensues in the midst of a journey.

My feet are definitely itching to get back on the open road, vast skies and tumultuous waters.

“Travel and change of place impart new vigor to the mind.” ~Seneca

A few weeks ago I made a trip up to Los Alamos, CA to visit Full of Life Flatbread, the home of some of the most amazing food I’ve ever had. I struggled with this post (hence it being weeks overdue) because there simply weren’t words for how impressed I was. Putting all fabrication and exaggeration aside, I was truly stunned when I set foot at Flatbread to find out that the production room doubles as a restaurant Friday-Sunday and that all of their ingredients are from local farmers within 40 miles of the restaurant. Not to mention that they ship their pizzas nationwide!

Touring the dessert fridge

When I arrived, Clark Staub, a former Angeleno in the music industry (formerly the VP of Marketing for Capitol Records) and now owner of Flatbread Full of Life restaurant, directed our attention to the fresh fava beans and pink lemons that had just arrived. I was even lucky enough to taste their homemade pink lemon whipped cream and witness the making of the Easter-inspired chocolate eggs filled with fresh berries and creme.

For dinner, we headed back to Flatbread and dined on some of the most delicious Pepperoni and Poblano Pepper pizza, Clam stew, Duck salad followed by a variety of other fresh flatbread wood fired pizzas. The one that I was most intrigued by was a pizza topped with cooked stinging nettles. Yes, nettles.  Apparently, when cooked, they’re incapable of stinging and actually quite tasty. By the time dessert came, I knew I was in for a treat. Remember that pink lemons we saw earlier? They were made into a delicious lemon tarte, topped with sweet and savory pink lemon whipped cream. I could have eaten it for days!

Clark Staub, Chef/Owner

Flatbread owner, Clark Staub explained to us a bit about the production of Flatbread pizzas. With only one hearth and limited bakers, Full of Life Flatbread produces over 200 pizzas per hour, each day of the week. Being as Los Alamos is a small town, locals from the vocational training center not far away, are employed to help build Flatbread frozen pizza boxes and knead dough.  Many of the individuals hired for this process are in need of job opportunities for those with mental or physical disabilities.

Locals from and around Los Alamos, gladly serve some of the most delectable and original dishes. Many employees I spoke with seemed to share Clark’s view of great food service and production.

“Full of Life is my own quest for simplicity and my own demand for quality food. Food made with and inspired by friends. Food that has a sense of place. Food made by real people without pretense or fashion. Food shared with our neighbors. Food that we ourselves eat. Food that is real and good and is part of the world that surrounds us.” – Clark Staub

I had the pleasure of meeting a great group of Flatbread employees after closing shop that night.  Pictured to the left is owner and chef, Clark Staub sharing an uplifting moment with his employees…then he sends them home with a pizza!