Car Camping for the Win

Our Campsite at Osprey Campground in Pike NF

There are several ways people meet their needs for sleeping outside and enjoying nature over night.  First, there is the traditional backpacking method of putting everything possible (also popular now is the ultra light, where as little as possible is carried) is put into a large backpack and carried into the woods, where camp will be set up, dinner will be dehydrated, and water will be scarce.  This is called dispersed camping.  Then there is Boondocking. Traditionally the term boondocking is used for parking an RV wherever without paying or hooking up to any services like electric or water.  I have my car, newly organized, which allows me the convenience and comfort to stretch out in the back for the night.  Finally there is established campsite camping, or what a backpacker may call "car camping."  

Mr. Nitrous demonstrating the Adventure Point while backpacking in the White Mountain NF, NH

Mr. Francis demonstrating Ultralight techniques at Hermit Lake shelters on Mt. Washington, NH

Boondocked on Hoosier Pass, CO

Car camping is the general picture imagined when the term "camping" is used.  Sites have a wide range of amenities offered, but always have one thing in common: easy access to your vehicle.  This means one can theoretically bring as much stuff camping as they can fit in their car!  Massive, five room tent with a ceiling fan?  Bring it!  An entire stove cookware set, complete set of cutlery, and every spice on the rack?  Bring it!  Dog, library, cord of wood, generator, waffle maker, and a full bar? Toss it in the car, because if it fits, you can have it in the middle of nowhere with you while you enjoy beautiful Mother Nature.

Car camping with friends at Trapp Pond SP, DE

Don't forget the inflatable pool!

I love car camping. There was a point where I looked down my nose at car camping because of the afore mentioned qualities and the fact that there may be a nominal fee for using the facilities (Blue Rocks and Osprey).  But I am over that dark time in my life and I have seen the light.  Car camping is easy, convenient, fun, and basically free (maximum ~$20-30 for a weekend at a resort style KOA).  

Before going white water rafting in the Royal Gorge for Dr. Henriquez' birthday celebration, the four of us (don't forget Chewie) camped in Pike's National Forest.  I had planned on camping farther south at Rainbow Falls, but while taking a Google Maps directed detour from CO-67, we stumbled upon a small site (10 or so spots) nestled in a bend of the South Platte River.  With light waning, we decided this spot had everything we needed and would do perfectly for the evening.  Dr. Henriquez helped me blaze a fire, while Dr. Wang set up his tent, and Chewie barked at the river and dug holes in the dirt.  The only thing we had to do now was sit back, relax, and drink a couple of adult beverages on a starry Friday night.

Chewie was feeling car sick

I'm not in the BOS-WASH anymore.

We had a blast!  Nature is awesome and I woke up warmed by the sun with an energized state of mind.  Never the less, there were some things that could have gone better. Having a background as a teacher and coach leads me to critique (sounds nicer than criticize) situations rather than just accept them at face value.  The following is a list and select notes I developed on car camping.  Don't think of this so much a checklist of what to bring (I don't really include the basics like tent, bag, pad), rather view this as my personal list of luxury car camping items.

Not necessary, but luxurious camping items: (pp means per person)

1 bowl pp

1 cup pp

1 spork pp

1 Camp chair pp (cooler can work for 1-2 seats as well)

1 frying pan (non-stick for extra luxury)

1 spatula

Trash bags (2 medium sized or 1 large)

Coffee filters or Tea

Large water container (2-5 gallons) for washing, cooking, general use

3 bundles of wood (~$10) (2 if using a stove for breakfast)

Marshmallows (preferably chocolate and graham crackers as well)

2 towels (you never know)

Sanitizing wipes and/or hand sanitizer

Spade shovel for digging a fire pit in more primitive campgrounds

Notes

* If you have time in the morning move the tent, air the fly and footprint.

*It will be at least ten degrees colder than forecasted.  Plan accordingly.

*Bring newspaper (circular ads) for fire.  Reeds/willows by creek as well as pine cones in forests make for good, dry kindling.  Lighter fluid or a small (.5L) gasoline bottle/can is fun.  MSR Super Fuel is good, too (be careful not to run out if you are cooking with you're stove.

*Hot dogs/Brats/Sausage cooked over the fire is a MUST!

*Bacon is the best!  (Mason jar for grease).  And fried eggs (2pp) in the pan make a whole, luxurious breakfast using either a stove (MSR Whisperlite International recommended) or a small fire.

*A cooler is a must (48 quarts is a good size). Freeze water bottles for ice and extra water.

*If you have a large truck/van and access to wood, I recommend bringing as much wood as possible.  Bon fires are fun, but be careful! Don't be the one to start a forest fire!
 

Bacon for the WIN!

 In the past few weeks, I have had the opportunity to live out each of these methods of camping as well being fortunate to receive the generous hospitality of the Wang/Henriquez in Denver and Nyquists in Durango.  I appreciate each method for their unique characteristics and the freedom to live however is most convenient for the adventure at hand.  I look forward to expanding my knowledge and honing my skill of living a budgeted outdoor lifestyle.

 

Home is where you park it

Adventure awaits (circa 2012) overlooking Great Gulf Wilderness, NH

Adventure in the Rockies

My first set of adventures in Colorado were spectacular and grandiose in scale and quick in time.  The thing about Colorado is that it’s elevated above sea lea.  I mean high.  Writing this in Durango, I am at an elevation of 6,512'.  Denver rests in the plains at 5,278'.  Compare that to the measly 165' of my hometown in PA and you can see why a kid can't breathe.  Mount Washington of the Presidential Range in the White Mountain National Forest reigns as the tallest peak in the Northeast at 6,288'.  So it's dry and high, which means I have to drink two gallons of water per day and focus on my breathing every time my heart rate rises so I don't hyperventilate.  My point is that my first two adventures in Colorado seem quite small, when I recount them on paper.  So small even, that I want to emphasize my need to survive.  To some this seems obvious; to the more extreme oriented of us, this is an excuse.  Most importantly, these small adventures were a big step for me towards the outdoor and self-propelled goals I have set for myself during my Colorado stay.

Chewie

Step 1:  Leave the wonderful comforts of my buddy Chewie's place in Denver and go explore the Rockies; namely, the Front Range.  This is the first view of the Rockies most drivers get as they proceed east to west.  They stretch from Pueblo, CO (southwest of Denver) to Cheyenne, WY.  The most popular and prominent of the peaks are that of Longs Peak, Mount Evans, and Pikes Peak (famous for its uphill rally car race).  Mr. Nitrous made a fabulous attempt at Longs earlier this year and encouraged me to give it a try.  So try I would.

 

First Glimpse of Longs Peak from Green Mountain, Boulder, CO

Longs Peak (14,259')

Longs Peak via the Keyhole Trail is a round trip of 15 miles, vertical ascent of roughly 4,838', and has a recommended start time of three am, allowing for 10-15 hours of total hiking.  This is a good challenge.  But like any dangerous activity, it is important to have a safe word.  My safe word was driven by an overwhelming desire to climb a foot higher than I have ever been previously, which occurred in a car driving over the Loveland Pass at 11.990' on I-70.  Thus, my safe word was 12,000' (even though my real goal was the Boulder Field at 12,800').

Very basic map at trail head

The plan was simple.  Leave Mr. Wang's before dusk, drive to Estes Park, hike in around dusk, set up camp at dark, sleep, be on top by daybreak.  There must be some cliché about well-intentioned plans going amiss.  I leave late from Denver forgetting to eat a proper dinner and miscalculating the distance to the trail head (1 hour 40 minutes instead of 50 minutes).  I lost service, while informing my supportive, redheaded confidant of my intentions, leading her to suspect I drove off a cliff (one bar of 4G reconciled this oversight later).  So I hike into the woods in the dark, with the goal of climbing 700' over 1.2 miles to a place called Goblin Forest, because none of this sounds creepy when you are planning exploration in the comfort of a furnished apartment.  Starting at 9,400' it was almost instantaneous that I could tell something was not right with my breathing.  I was moving at a methodical, if not slow pace and yet was out of breath.  Once I found the Goblin Forest, I post-holed crotch deep till I was sure there were no bear boxes (haiku soon to follow of bears in the woods) for camp food.  I set up my tent, hung my bear bag (far too close to camp because I'm always too tired to walk 500' away), and tried desperately to sleep for a few hours.

Note to self: don't believe the forecast.  Longs Peak was forecasted for a low of 34 on this night.  I brought my summer bag (32 degrees) with a 20-degree liner.  This system has kept me warm in far colder scenarios than 34.  But then it's midnight and Rocky Mountain blustery and you have to do a lot of sit-ups to maintain a healthy core temperature.  Three rough R.E.M. cycles later I was up and ready to hike.  Headlamp on, micro spikes attached, bladder hose thawed, it was four am and I was off.  By five am I had broken alpine (above the trees) and was looking at the faint orange glow of the eastern horizon.  After a few more up hill steps, I braced against what was already a devastating wind.  Again the forecast called for 15-20 mph with gusts of up to 30 mph.  The one factor the northeast shares with the big western mountains is their wind (Jay Peak winds always blow and Mt. Washington holds the record for highest ever wind speed observed by a human).  So I unpacked my down, zipped up my neck, and donned my hood.  Head lowered, I pressed forward until I was surrounded by light.  I was not lucky enough for divine intervention or a mountain summit, simply more wind and a growing sense of fatigue.  Sure I had been climbing for 3 hours, the air was thin, and the wind was blowing, but surely I had more energy than this.  At long last I reached the saddle and fork in the trail:  left to an icy lake with a summit view and right to Boulder Pass, the Boulder Field, the Keyhole, and the summit.  I wasn't even half way there.

Sunrise/Moonset

First real glimpse of the massif.

I was determined not to give up.  I pressed on across the hill towards the long switchback climbs to the Boulder Field.  With my face already raw from the wind, it didn't take much time for the sun's rays to bounce off the perfectly reflective snow and burn my face.  The traverse of just under a mile seemed to take an eternity.  I felt sluggish and my legs burned like I was partaking in an anaerobic workout.  When I faced the 800' curving climb to the Boulder Field at Boulder Pass, I realized I was thrilled with my accomplishment.  I did not give up, I will return.  But I was above 12,000' and that was a milestone.  I scrambled up a large pile of rubble boulders and took a hundred photos of my first panoramic view of the Rockies.  Then I got the hell out of there.

The hill to the Boulder Field and eventually to the Peak (lookers right)

Climbing down is always easier for me.  I like running down hill.  But I was still wary of the effects of elevation sickness and cautiously made my way down to camp, where I packed up and walked out to the car.  The sun was shining, it was a balmy 19 degrees, and you could see for days.  I made small talk with Rocky Mountain NP tourist and a couple that was going to hike Estes Cone.  It was a good day and not yet even ten am.  I knew I was headed south, but how to get there?

Estes Cone from Longs trail head.

How bout a northward detour through RMNP?  So I drove through RMNP with the intention of crossing the Continental divide on US-34. Only, US-34, like so many other routes along my journey was closed due to the season.  After experiencing Longs Peak and its local homie peaks from afar, I doubled back east through Roosevelt NF, drove south through Boulder, back west across 70, stopped at Vail once again for their lovely visitor center restrooms, and hit US-24 south through White River NF and then 285 through San Isabel NF and finally 50 west toward Montrose and the San Juan's.  

Longs through the Trees

Battle Mt., Estes Cone, Mt. Meeker, and Longs Peak

I camped in the Curecanti National Recreational Area along Elk Creek.  Bright sunshine and glistening waster woke me early the next morning.  There were huge valley walls topped with crowns of rock fifty feet tall.  While hiking to a breakfast spot in The Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP, I experienced the San Juan Mountain for the first time.  Walking out to a high point cliff on the north end of Black Canyon, I caught a glimpse of a wide, tall, snow capped mountain range with many teeth.  This would be my next adventure.

Breakfast nook

South to the San Juans

Bears and Eagles.

Curecanti NRA

Two days later I was camping along side Route 550 at Mineral Creek just outside Silverton and it was snowing.  Not as hard as earlier in the day, but it was snowing!  Two things lead to this excellent adventure opportunity.  One (1) Mr. Nyquist, brother of Mr. Nitrous and who's lovely residence I have been residing of late, was quite eager to earn his turns.  And two (2) there was a weather system moving into the San Juans that could be 6-12" worthy.  The nice thing about camping in the Rockies in a snowstorm is the ability to have a camp fire (Smokey says only You can prevent forest fires).  Also, car camping for the win!

Camp Vibes

The next day we awoke to a meager 4" of powder, but were determined to explore the area regardless.  We chose Mineral Creek because of a view I had during my initial drive through the San Juans via 550S.  I had an image of a crisp, white bowl a thousand feet wide and several hundred feet on either side that funneled into a thousand feet of chute skiing.  It's like the first time I ever saw...  Anyway I had brought Mr. Nyquist here and we were going to explore several routes to ascend to said bowl.  The issue was a creek.  We couldn't just park on the side of the road by a probable path in the folds of massive hills.  We had to find a crossing, and work back from there through 1" to 3' of snow.  Post-holing is not fun and our valley traverse was fairly unsuccessful until we climbed up two different small gullies.  First we decided to take a run down the larger but more firm of the two hills.  We had about 300' to play with and little idea how hard the pack was or how thin the coating (don't worry avalanche enthusiasts, the pack was stable).  Very stable. And hard.  

Snow Mechanics

Colorful Valley

After we decided we could have better snow in a shadowed chute off to the side of our first run. Tree covered, narrower, and steeper sounded like a better bet for better snow.   While only sliding down the bottom two-thirds of the hill, we still managed several soft, fresh turns, especially as the walls grew higher and narrower on the run out providing a parabolic amount of fun. 

Mr. Nyquist working his way up.

At this point we decided that a mid day snack and warm car ride would rejuvenate us to find some turns at Silverton Mountain.  Silverton Mountain is a one-lift ski resort six miles outside of an old mining town that now serves as hometown for a few hundred people maximum.  So few people go here that post cards are a dollar apiece! That’s absurd! But I digress.  We drove up the now snow covered dirt road scouting lines that looked climbable and slidable.  It was snowing again, not hard, but not soft, just right for an April ski day.  We came upon a long, tree-strewn gully where we could see more than 700 vertical feet of snow.  Despite having to cross another creek via two downed trees covered in snow, we decided to attack this one.  Here the slope was not too great, but certainly relentless.  We climbed for over an hour, taking short one to five minute breaks to catch our breath.  The altitude thing makes walking up extraordinary mountains all the more difficult.  Honestly, I think elevation does to the body the same thing as a good anaerobic workout.  The elevation makes me feel like I'm sprinting when really I am concentrating hard on keeping a slow cadence.  The same way the arid nature of elevated Colorado makes me concentrate on drinking plenty of water and doing it often.  The gully steepened and narrowed and we decided on a good drop point.  The snow was a dreamlike consistency, and I had a blissful, powdery line with natural whalebacks to toy over and tiny trees to avoid for five minutes of glorious descent.  Colorado Skiing is pretty good!

Earning Turns at Silverton

Altitude is a butt kicker

Also, I should mention that while in Colorado I have summited Green Mountain with Mr. Wang on a beautiful Saturday, irresponsibly run up a Smelter Mountain (refer back to altitude sickness), and bouldered for an hour in the middle of a trail run.  All of these things are conveniently available just down the road.  Durango, CO!

Colorado for the first time

I have arrived in Colorado.  I left Arches on Thursday, entered Colorado and immediately went to the Colorado National Monument where I proceeded to drive around Rim Road for a few hours and listen to Snoop Dogg. If Colorado's beautiful colors and dynamic canyons weren't enough, the Rockies sure were. I headed east on I-70 out of Grand Junction towards Denver and it didn't take very long for the walls to grow higher than the windshield as the road began to curve with the meandering Colorado River and climb the tall mountain passes. I remember being told by several friends that there's nothing like the Rockies, and nothing like the Colorado Rockies. But it definitely required seeing in order to believe. I am a believer.

 

    Independence Monument, Colorado

I also believe I will be very happy in Colorado.  But before I ramble on further about my professed love of abundant, snow capped peaks, let's review the road trip.  After all, it was a pretty wild two weeks of travel.

We set forth driving across the entire mid west (because who really wants to stop there?) not stopping for anything but gas.  Mr. Nitrous got off work about 7 and we were able to hit the road by 8:30pm.  With 107.9 The Boom's classic hip hop quickly fading, we made our way to Mr. Newlimb's place in Pittsburgh, where we cheersed a few beers and slept for about three hours before returning to the road for our long push.  1,200 miles through eight states (PA, OH, IN, MI pit stop, IL, WI, MN, SD) with two stops for gas and one stop for a deep dish of heaven from Giordano's in the Windy City.  At about 1:00 am and 50 miles from our campsite Mr. Nitrous would be pulled over for going 83 mph in a 75 zone.  In the blur that was eastern South Dakota, Nitrous would leave the car in drive as he exited the vehicle to join the nicest police officer in history in his vehicle (front seat of course). No casualties occurred and we only received a warning.

The Next day we woke in a campsite perched a few yards from a beautiful lake in the middle of South Dakota.  No other life in sight and the wind still howling, we packed up, made sure the fireworks we set off in our dream like arrival weren't smoldering into a field fire, and hit the road yet again.  This time we only had a few hours to kill:  first the Badlands, then the Black Hills.  Badlands are 25 miles of colorful, eroded mounds of earth that fall into an endless prairie.  We drove through for the most part trying to avoid tourists.  Finally we found a deserted back road, and wandered down a few mounds to the base of the canyons and back up to a distant ridge.  No rattlesnakes were seen, but there were plenty of bison patties.  Fun times, but the Badlands are a "drive through" park and that is what we did.

Mr. Nitrous standing next to the Lake in SD, where we set fireworks off.

          

Badlands National Park

Climbing and sliding in the Badlands

On to Grand Rapids and the Black Hills.  We stopped at Walmart to get some ice, jerky, and a big, dead rotisserie chicken, then moved on to see George W, Teddy,  TJ, and Abe.  Mount Rushmore National Monument was deserted with the exception of a handful of families.  After 30 minutes of walking around it was off to our campsite behind the men (literally we camped right behind the monument).  There was a lady at the campsite in heels and a bunch of incoherent climbers on spring break, so we climbed a 60' rock and drank an irresponsible amount of beers, while we watched the sun go down.

America's Finest

                                                                  

And a goat

                                                                      

Sunset from behind the Fathers

Crazy Horse

The next day we traveled to Sylvan Lake inside Custer State Park (who the hell names a park after that dude?) and climbed Harney Peak via Little Devil's Tower and the Cathedral Spires.  It was hot, dry, and beautiful.  We were out after 8+ miles at lunch, drank a few beers on a boulder on the lake, and drove to the middle of Wyoming, where we received several complimentary rounds of Wind River Pale Ale from the owner of the Antelope Bar in Glenrock (pop: 2,500).  We proceeded to buy all of the remaining WRPA's from the town, set up camp by the Platte River next to a redneck fishing/bonfire party.  The rednecks did not care for us, but had no problems turning on their squealing truck at two a.m. to warm up. 

Cathedral Spires in Custer State Park

North towards Deadwood

Little Devils Tower in Custer State Park

Sylvan Lake

Redneck Campground Sunset

 The next morning we were off to Grand Teton NP via Bridger-Teton NF and US-287 before the rednecks had a chance to open their eyes.  We had our sights set on climbing the Middle Teton the following day and only one thing could stand in our way: maps!  Who knew a national park wouldn't sell a map of the park?  Similar to the Black Hills visitor center, no one seems to know anything, or are at least reluctant to share any interesting information (I have talked to many wonderful park rangers at numerous national parks that are more than willing to answer any question at length and engage as much as they can).  But we got our permit and bear canister, drove into town to rent Mr. Nitrous some gear I told him not to bring, found a USGS topo map, and set forth for Granite Canyon mid afternoon.  At Bradley Lake (~3mi.) we lost the trail.  Honestly, I don't think we ever saw it again.  The trail was at best frustrating, and mostly miserable, but we searched until dark and then a good portion of the morning until we agreed that a hot meal and a beer was more rewarding then finding our way up (it was hopeless). 

The Tetons

Breakfast Nook

                                                          

We met Mr. Hogan and Ms. Franklin at the Town Tavern (Million Dollar Cowboy Bar was closed).  It was more like we ignored the new couple while we scarfed our warm, spicy food and drank our cold beer.  Finally we left for the beautiful mountainside house we would call home for the next few days.  This place had it all.  Like How-you-living-In-mansions-and-Benz's-giving-ends-to-my-friends lifestyle: hot tub, sauna, foosball, boot warmer, two-car garage.  We had good times hot tubbing, cooking, and debating whether or not Israel is a "terroristic" state.

Jackson group minus Mr. Nitrous

 On Friday Mr. Nitrous and I thought it would be a grand idea to hike up Jackson Hole Mountain Resort, ski Corbet's Culoir, and ride out the day.  Turns out uphill travel is prohibited at JHMR (probably because they don't pay someone to check their $100 lift tickets above Teton Village).  Furious, we turned back, did some research and determined Teton Pass was the place for our earn-your-turns adventure.  We set our sights on Mt. Glory and the Glory Bowl.  2000' of bootpack and square miles of sunshine on open snow.  We climbed, we took pictures, we got sun burnt, and we slid down corn snow for a very long way!  Life was good!

Mr. Nitrous climbing Mt. Glory

 That night everyone drank too much and I drove them (sober) to the Wyoming-Idaho state line to shoot off fireworks (it felt more legal in Idaho).  The next day everyone went off on an adventure, while Mr. Nitrous and I drank beers in the beanbag room, watched YouTube videos of N.W.A. Snoop Dogg, and Dr. Dre while listening to a Spotify gangsta rap playlist.  We went to a dinner that night that made Mr. Hogan sick (I think I saw Jimmy Chin in the Boot and Spur).  Afterward Mr. Lardiere assisted in the second closing of the Mangy Moose with A-Bomb and Nitrous, by purchase of ALL top shelf Scotch - the night was young.

How you living, Biggie Smalls?

Closing down the Mangy Moose

                                            

But the adventure of A-Bomb and Nitrous do one-third of America was over.  The next day everyone got on a plane and went home.  I went to Idaho to sleep on the other side of the Tetons.  Turns out I have a very real fear of BEARS! Grizzly Bears (Ursus arctos horribilis) are a gnarly bear that the Targhee NF says you should arm yourself with bear spray in case of an attack.  I don't have bear spray.  Good news: I slept in my car (terrified) for the first time.  Great success (I didn't get eaten)!  But instead of exploring the snow covered passes of Targhee NF, I avoided the fresh 2" of snow and headed south for Utah, but not without first taking a 60 miles detour north across the Continental Divide via an unmaintained Montana dirt road to the wonderfully straight and flat I-15 with a speed limit of 80mph to take me to Salt Lake City.

Still feeling unreasonably exhausted and alone, I trekked into the Wasatch outside of SLC, UT.  The road of Big Cottonwood Canyon wound upwards towards upper class, mountain homes and pretend wilderness.  Don't get me wrong, the trails and mountains were spectacular, but it is tough pretending you are in the wilderness with flush toilets, lush mountain homes, and the constant rush of highway traffic.  I camped illegally at some designated NF campsite that said it opens April 1st but pretended to be closed on the 6th.  I had my first real camp dinner of Ramen, bratwurst, pepper, and greens that night.  Then rose early to climb to Dog Lake, set up camp, try to find Mt. Reynolds and the Great Western Trail, which wasn't worth finding.  I retreated back to my tent, hungry and sun burnt; took a nap and boiled snow.  I cursed the Public Lands girl who told me there wouldn't be much snow at the top (I love snow, I just prefer to prepare for it).   I forgot a book, my journal; post cards were written; and I had no service.  Thankful atop Reynolds I was able to download Kindle on my phone and the Short Stories of Ernest Hemmingway.  

Camp Vibes

                                                             

Clouds approaching the Wasatch

                                               

I awoke with the mission to make it to Colorado.  Weather was supposed to again turn to shit, and I needed dry warmth.  Sure enough it was pouring in SLC (it would dump 20"+ up top in the next week, but I'm an amateur).  Somewhere in the desert of Utah I realized Arches NP was within a stones throw of I-70 and decided to make a pit stop.  Arches is a drive through park, but I managed to squeeze seven miles of walking out her.  Utah is like a big, red, rock jungle gym.  Can't wait to return.  I slept just south of Moab in my car for the second time.  I have it down now.  Snowboard squeezes up top, cooler outside, packs between the seat, plenty of room.  Oh and a -20 degree Fahrenheit bag for the win.

Balancing Rock

                                                              

North Window Arch?

                                                         

Landscape Arch

                                                      

Double O Arch

                                                          

From here I would travel to Colorado, where the adventure of my imagination was waiting.  It has been a few weeks since entering Colorado and it is encouraging to feel the sense of belonging that I do.  I have hiked small and large peaks, driven a long way, and planned many returns.  At this point, I feel comfortable in saying Colorado has been calling me.  

 

12,000'

I'd also like to take this opportunity and thank the two Eric's and their wonderful families for being incredibly hospitable.  Without such support from my family and my extended family this adventure would not be possible.

Stay tuned please....