Author: Chelsea As we picked up our permits and wag bags on March 14th in preparation for our backpacking trip into the Paria Canyon in Utah and Arizona, things were just picking up with COVID-19 cases rising in the United States. The situation in Italy was grim, but no state had yet gotten to the point of issuing a stay at home order. As mentioned at the end of the last blog, every news headline was a new wrench in our plan – ski resorts were shuttered as they were some of the first and hardest hit towns in Colorado; National Parks were beginning to limit services; cities like Moab, Utah were passing local measures to keep travelers out of their tourist-dependent town. We were more than excited to get off grid and stop thinking about the impact of this virus on our trip which was nearly a year in the making when our more-experienced-with-wilderness friends hinted that the heavy rains may make the Paria slot canyon too dangerous for our adventure. I hadn’t felt this deflated in a long time. After consulting with local guides and park rangers, we decided that heading into the canyon would at the least be miserable, sludging through the saturated riverbanks with full loads on our backs, and at worst cost us our safety in the event of a flash flood with another rainfall elsewhere in the Colorado Plateau region. Mourning the adventure took an afternoon sitting in the sun enjoying drinks with new and old friends as we planned a new adventure: camping on Antelope Island in Lake Powell. For those unfamiliar with Lake Powell (as I was before Google-ing “things to do in Page, AZ”), it is a giant lake interrupting the Colorado River, created by the flooding of Glen Canyon with the completion of the Glen Canyon Dam in 1963. It quite similar to the more well-known Lake Mead in neighboring Nevada, as the Glen Canyon Dam stands only 16’ shorter than the Hoover Dam. While the controversy of its creation is something to be studied, for our purposes it made a pivot in our plans smooth – kayaking and hiking into Antelope Canyon while enjoying 3 nights of beach camping on Antelope Island. We loaded our tandem kayaks with everything we needed for camping and paddled less than 200 yards to the beach to set up camp. Jaimie and I said a little silent prayer as we took off in the loaded tandem, but breathed a sigh of relief as we made it across without tipping and only a few minutes behind the group. Our experienced counterparts made it look WAY too easy. I had never been in a slot canyon before this trip – I was still learning about Navajo sandstone, the beauty of the canyons, and safety while exploring. On the 30-minute paddle from our camping beach, I was focused less on what the canyon would look like from the kayak and more on Jaimie and me getting our strokes synced up so we didn’t turn in circles on the lake. It just took one turn into the mouth of the canyon to take my breath away. Getting close to the canyon walls put into perspective just how much of the canyon was forced underwater by the 710-ft dam; looking down was dizzying. I haven’t scuba dove in over 16-years, but I was itching to see the flooded canyon from underwater. When we hit the end of the lake, we pulled our boats up onto land and started a multi-hour hike which got as narrow as one meter in some places. We slogged through pools of stagnant water, heaved each other up steep inclines, and witnessed the power of water on the canyon walls in the aftermath of years of flash flooding and erosion. Simply put, this kayak and hiking has me itching to see more. Getting back to our camping spot allowed for a couple of lazy days, but since we were so close to the marina and boat launch, we still had phone service. We continued to hear of the spread of the novel coronavirus and saw the first stay-at-home order issued with more to come by the trip’s end. Catching up with a friend, I learned of a group getting stranded in Central America as their flight home from a medical service trip (one that I attended the prior year) was cancelled as the country shut their borders to stem the spread of COVID-19. As the rest of the medical community, pediatric physical therapy clinics were shuttering their doors to all but those deemed “high priority” and transitioning to telehealth. Hiring freezes were announced and volunteer sign-ups for medical relief in hot spots like New York City were emerging. It was during this lazy day on the beach that Jaimie and I decided it was most responsible for us to end our travels and head to my parents’ house in Pennsylvania. As the week ended and we said goodbye to our friends, we tracked their returns home in the midst of airlines consolidating flights due to dwindling traveler numbers. We questioned then and now how safe it was for airports to remain open and how many lives it cost to keep airlines afloat. As the new reality hit, we mourned nearly two more months of travel we had planned without my certification exam looming over our heads. The decision was made however disappointing it was. Did we have the ability to travel as nomads and continue our journey sans ski resorts adding in additional public land adventures? Yes. Did we at least one time think it was worth it to live off grid and go on supply runs as little as possible, 1800 miles away from the closest family? Yes. But did we think hard about the responsibility we have as young adults at risk of silent spreading the virus to those at risk? Yes. Were we mad, angry, disappointed, and irritable? Yes. In hindsight, there was so much we didn’t know about COVID-19 and the havoc it would bring to our country. If Jaimie and I did not come from class privilege as a result of our parents and I had not come from the privilege of having a white father, we may not have had a safety net to fall back into – let alone two. In light of some of the events in the news today, including the murders of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd, and the actions of Amy Cooper, and my responsibility as a white-presenting member of society, I recognize my bias and privilege and its effects on my situation as it relates to this pandemic. Had Jaimie and I been working in D.C., we would have likely had a spacious apartment with one of us deemed essential and the other able to work from home. We would have the resources to have items delivered to our home and the ability to stock-pile enough items to stay at home. What is more astounding, even though we were in the midst of travels and transition, we are still in a position of stability. We have joined my family in my childhood home on a lake in Pennsylvania, and we have financial stability as we plan for the next steps in our lives. I know part of that privilege comes from the color of my family’s skin and continue to educate myself on how I can make a difference for those who do not have that privilege. When Jaimie and I start a family, we will have biracial children raised by same-sex parents. We will have conversations with our children about what their skin color means in a systemically racist society with deep-seeded wounds stretching back to this country’s founding. We will arm ourselves against prejudice and surround ourselves with those who demonstrate their support and love. But why aren’t people with privilege like mine recognizing it and speaking up? If you aren’t talking about the racial and class divide that this pandemic is revealing, you aren’t doing your part. Whenever you stumble upon this, I hope you are safe and well. And if you aren’t, please reach out <3
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Authors: Jaimie & Chelsea Author’s Note: Don’t worry. We are safe and sound back to the East Coast, and these stories are about our travels in March before we started the drive back east. Leaving Telluride, we ventured back to northern New Mexico for Chelsea to study for her exam in the serene desert environment - being one week out, anxiety was building. Frankly, there’s nothing too exciting about Farmington, NM, but we found some great free camping at a BLM campsite near OHV (off-highway vehicle) trails. As not to scare the parents, we won’t provide too many details about our neighbor’s evening rendezvous with police officials (and a circling helicopter), but with that one exception, the time there was quite relaxing. To bring the stress level down even further before the exam, we stayed in a hotel room the night before and after the exam! For those that have never utilized an RV, there are usually two tanks that need to be cared for: a grey tank for wastewater (from the shower and sinks) and a black tank for toilet waste. In our setup, the grey tank is the limiting factor. We can hold 26 gallons of fresh water but less than 10 gallons of wastewater. Because of this, we take extremely brief showers (think a “navy shower”) and wash dishes with efficiency we didn’t think was possible. So, the hotel shower with unlimited hot water was like a kid in a candy store [or insert any other fitting metaphor]. Getting past the exam date took a lot of stress off of the trip; particularly, since it was sometimes difficult to find that perfect cadence between travel and study time. Chelsea gets her results back in June — so fingers crossed! After the exam, we left Farmington for the South Rim of the Grand Canyon. For those that haven’t been, we would characterize it as the Disneyland of National Parks. The rim trail is quite small for the number of tourists that visit worldwide, and even as the precautions and news about COVID-19 started to hit the airwaves, the volume of people was startling for the very beginning of tourist season. To put it into perspective, just a week before at Capitol Reef we saw a total of about 20 people over our two days in the park. With that being said, we enjoyed Mather campground in the park and would be interested in another visit: either a rafting trip down the Colorado into the canyon, hiking the canyon itself, or visiting the less crowded northern rim that had not yet opened for the season. The views from the canyon rim cannot be adequately described by us, but they truly were breathtaking. We ended up leaving on a pretty foggy day, and the contrasting lack of view on our departure day was quite odd. We stopped at an overlook and you couldn’t even tell there was a drop-off into a canyon. We drove from the Mather Campground in the Grand Canyon to BLM land outside of Zion, which included a drive through the Kaibab National Forest, Glen Canyon National Recreation Area, Lake Powell, and the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. That drive was one of the times, in Jaimie’s words, she felt like a grown-up as she appreciated the scenery and geological surprises around each bend. As we drove from the Grand Canyon to Zion National Park, news about COVID-19 was growing as the World Health Organization had just declared a pandemic. Over the next three days in Zion National Park, we had very limited phone service and enjoyed our time riding the shuttle, hiking the Narrows, and getting respective “me” time as Chelsea hiked to the Watchman Overlook and Jaimie sat and read by the Virgin River on a beautiful spring day. We spent two nights on BLM outside of the park and one night camping in the park. Zion provides a unique experience for two reasons. First, visitors are able to hop into the Virgin River, which contrasts with the Green and Colorado Rivers of Canyonlands that are accessed almost exclusively by off-roading and rafting/kayaking. Second, the bars, restaurants, and stores in the gateway town of Springdale are actually walking distance to the Zion visitors center and the two campgrounds in the park. On our last day, after some adventuring in the park, we went off-roading on the backside of Zion on BLM land raised high on buttes above the surrounding area to more breathtaking views. Due to impending rain, we weren’t able to camp there, but it was fun to scout campsites for a future trip. We instead camped on the river just west of Zion. We knew it would rain and in the morning, the river had risen well over its banks from the previous day. We had minimal phone service at Zion and left to head to Hurricane, Utah to stock up on supplies before meeting friends for a backpacking trip. While in the park, we were able to get some news from friends about the cancelling of the NCAA basketball tournaments (we were slated to travel to New Orleans for the women’s tournament in early April), but other than that, we weren’t really staying in tune to the news. As soon as we exited the park area and had phone service again, it was almost as if each hour brought more news of closures. We read about the toilet paper hoarding, and hustled our way to Walmart. It was void of supplies but packed with people, an apocalyptic sight. With each minute spent in the store, Chelsea’s anxiety grew, but Jaimie worked to keep us both calm. We headed to a nearby grocery store where shelves were emptying, but far less “end-of-the-world” vibes than Walmart. It was now that we tuned into the news and did something that we have rarely done on this trip - keep our eyes glued to our phones. One by one, the things that we planned to do in the coming weeks closed and travel had become restrictive. State parks in New Mexico were closed, ski resorts were shuttering their lodges and ending their seasons one by one, National Parks were closing their visitors centers and ranger-led activities, and the town of Moab (gateway to three Utah national parks) asked visitors to stay away. Social distancing became the new buzz word as we familiarized ourselves on self and community safety as a traveling couple. We decided to focus on our upcoming backpacking trip with friends near the Glen Canyon Recreation Area, gathering supplies needed to hike the Paria River Canyon and making sure we had at least a week’s supply of food for after the four day trip, for we were unsure of what was to come. a Author: Jaimie Author’s Note: With the COVID-19 pandemic, we have been a bit delayed on documenting our travels since our plans are in flux. We will do a bit of catch up over the next few blog posts. From Arches National Park, we traveled down to Canyonlands National Park only 29 miles away up a gorgeous climb to a plateau. Canyonlands is a unique park divided into four distinct geological sections, with separate entrances to each: Island in the Sky, the Needles, the Maze, and Horseshoe Canyon. Island in the Sky is the most accessible and most visited section of the park, and is a mesa resting on sheer sandstone cliffs over 1,000 feet above the surrounding terrain where the Colorado and Green Rivers intersect. Words truly cannot describe how remarkably beautiful the scenery is, but I think what makes it incredible is the layers of geographical features in the landscape. I don’t have the jargon to describe it all, but from multiple lookouts our eyes feasted on rivers, needles, cliffs, canyons, mountain tops, and buttresses. As I told Chelsea on multiple occassions, I’m looking forward to returning with an “off-roading capable” iteration of our truck with either a pop-up truck camper or cab topper set-up. From the Island in the Sky, one can trace a meandering road hugging the cliff’s edge that raggedly descends to the White Rim Trail that sits on a second plateau above the river beds. After the prior days adventures in Arches, we decided to take a few more relaxing hikes and enjoy inexpensive campgrounds in the park. The next day we went to Dead Horse State Park, home to one of the famous bends of the Colorado River. As we have mentioned time and time again, this trip is extremely challenging in the cold weather, but with many evenings of empty campgrounds and unshared sunset views, it has been very much worth it. After our time in Canyonlands, we visited Capitol Reef National Park. We entered the park from the eastern entrance after driving for almost an hour in an odd Mars-like environment with giant dark hills of ostensibly volcanic dirt and little vegetation. While we understand now that Capitol Reef truly is gorgeous in its own right, our introduction to the park was somewhat underwhelming. The eastern side of the “reef” was simply odd and bland with weird geography. Then, when we entered the visitors center, the ranger did little to raise our excitement levels, exclaiming that everything was going to be muddy and we best not venture to the off-road campsites because we could get stuck in that same darn mud. Thankfully, the ranger’s lack of excitement about his own backyard did little to deter us from adventuring. First, we enjoyed a few of the popular hikes and a bit of the challenging driving into the Grand Wash. After some scenic drives, we ended the day with a fantastic hike up to a panoramic viewpoint that incorporated snow-capped mountains, the vertical red cliffs behind the local town, a distant canyon, and the park’s own ribbons of orange-red rock, known as the “water pocket fold.”(Note that we picked up that geological lingo from the park’s 17-minute video, which I recommend). In the two evenings that sandwiched our visit, we enjoyed dispersed campgrounds surrounding the park that were remarkable, particularly because the region was essentially barren of tourists. We spent one evening on the east side of with both a view of the distant Mars-like setting of Caineville, Utah, the Fremont river flowing in a canyon below, and the red rock that is common to the Colorado Plateau. The next evening, we camped high above the highway just west of the park, squeezed between orange-red rocks with majestic high desert views. From that western entrance, the park truly showed its majesty. And what is oddly memorable (to me at least), is while searching for phone service in Torrey, the gateway town to Capitol Reef, we were surprised by fantastic buffalo chicken pizza at Red Cliff Restaurant (one of the only restaurants open in the off-season), which was decorated like an American Legion or small-town social hall. It was a great break to our redundant rotating meals of chili, tacos, and spaghetti. After Capitol Reef, we spent a day filled with errand running and driving, crossing back into Colorado to stop in Grand Junction for laundry and other errands. Grand Junction was actually a better stop than expected as I got quite a few laughs grabbing a beer at the biker bar next to the laundromat. After grocery shopping, we spent the evening in the Walmart parking lot in Montrose, Colorado, a gateway town to Telluride. It was a stark difference to the star-filled skies of the national park region. (Chelsea also wanted me to mention that she had awesome stargazing while we were in Arches, Canyonlands, and Capitol Reef. And she would make me sit in the camper with the lights off while she took long-exposure pictures...for hours... on her iphone. Yes, I plan on signing her up for a photography class.) With only weeks left until Chelsea’s test, we relaxed for a few nights camping at the massive reservoir in Ridgeway State Park, close to both Telluride and Ouray, Colorado. Ridgeway was definitely a destination that I would consider returning for a summer getaway in a water playground with hot days and cooler mountain nights. Our final stop in Colorado was Telluride, where I spent the day snowboarding and Chelsea studied at coffee shops and restaurants in town. I won’t bore non-skiers with details of the mountain, but Telluride is one of my favorites. It is steep, with limited beginner trails, and a concoction of a massive bowl, glades, groomed runs, and chutes. Even in a low-snow year, it was truly a paradise. After a day on the slopes and enjoying the local bar Cornerhouse Grille with its 50 cent wings (a treat for a very expensive ski town), we needed to venture to New Mexico, so Chelsea could spend her last few days before her specialist exam in another peaceful environment. So on to New Mexico! Author: Chelsea One of the main objectives during the first half of the trip was for me to focus on studying for the Pediatric Certification Examination. If I passed, I will be accredited as a board certified pediatric specialist in the field of physical therapy. When we left Colorado, I had just two weeks until I sat for my exam (which I completed last weekend, yay!). To decrease some stress and give me some extra time for studying, Jaimie and I took a break from the slopes and the cold to head to milder temperatures. With warmer weather, we do not have to worry about a lot of things such as getting propane as frequently, keeping the tanks and lines from freezing, and overall just making sure my toes don’t freeze. So, off to the National Parks in eastern Utah and 45 to 50-degree days! Our first stop was Arches National Park. After doing some errands in Moab, we camped alongside the Colorado River at a Bureau of Land Management (BLM) Campground outside the park. For never being to the southwest aside from Phoenix for basketball, the views were something I could not have imagined. I thought I was going to study on the drive down from Gypsum but was too distracted by the sights. We had the campground all to ourselves save one other group in a Mothership - an early 90s conversion van (see mom and dad, you can take to the road too!) We spent three total days in Arches. Day one, we completed a driving tour via rented USB from the visitor center. This definitely made us feel like a retired couple, but it was truly fun! We learned about the park’s geology and history and drove the 36 miles of paved roads with a bit of easy hiking to the major sites (and a lot of selfies!). On the way out of the park, there is an opportunity to take a dirt road (4x4 required) to head west to the adjacent BLM for free, dispersed camping. The road was four miles, and we figured our Lucy could handle it. To keep our parents from worrying too much, let’s just say we did a little bit of rocking over the many rock slabs in the desert, but did not roll! At one point, Jaimie had to hop out of the camper and provide turn-by-turn, foot-by-foot directions for me to navigate some gnarly crevices. She said that while she watched me, her stomach was lurching just as much as the camper. The shortcut turned into a bit of a time-consuming detour…but we made it! On day two, we had a late start but still fit in a challenging hike called the Devil’s Garden as suggested to us by one of my college basketball teammates. As an aside, let me share this: for years, Jaimie and I have been going on hikes here and there and enjoying every minute of it. It wasn’t until I proposed to Jaimie on Avalanche Peak, hiking up 2000 feet in less than 2.5 miles that we realized we actually are NOT difficult-long-trail hikers. Back to Arches – We did the first part of the Devil’s Garden hike which leads to one of the largest arches in the park, Landscape Arch. From there you have two options: walk back the way you came or head out on a loop to the Double O Arch which includes rock scrambling and lots of heights. I coaxed Jaimie into coming up to Double O with me, which included losing the trail, jumping down a snow-covered, ten-foot wall, sliding on my butt only to be stopped by a rooted tree, and stumbling upon Double O Arch accidentally as a group of older gentlemen strolled up to it along the actual trail. We had a short discussion about hanging around to just follow the older men back since we wanted to ensure that we wouldn’t get off trail and have to scale snow-covered cliffs again, but we (and I really mean me...) let our egos get the better of us and took the “Primitive Trail.” There were warnings about the primitive trail, but we thought “if we can get to Double O on our own path, this won’t be too hard!” Needless to say, we relied on the “cairns” or rock towers that mark the trail, celebrating as we found each one as we raced the sun setting on our way back to the car. At one point, we were clinging to a sheer rock wall with our fingertips and toes 40 feet above the ground, with Jaimie chanting “my feet are my stickiest part,” a mantra I whispered to her as her fear of heights ate away at our confidence. We made it back to Landscape Arch just as the sun was setting, and boy what a beautiful sight that was. If you haven’t heard much about Arches National Park, look up the Fiery Furnace hike because it made day three just as adventurous. For this hike, you have to watch a safety video and chat with a park ranger to obtain a permit. Essentially, you have free range in this area of the park for climbing, canyoneering, exploring, and getting lost. The advice was to follow the small, 2-inch white arrows counterclockwise along the nearly 2 mile ranger tour with a very good chance of losing the trail. We had a ton of fun, and only lost the trail once as we climbed up slick rocks, shimmied through slots, and made sure to stay in sand washes or on rocks to preserve the delicate ecosystem. At the end of the hike Jaimie proclaimed “we have to talk.” It was then and there she confessed that if I continue to desire stepping up my hiking game, I will need to find another friend — applications are now open! Between the Arches, Canyonlands, and Capitol Reef National Parks [which Jaimie will discuss in her next post], we saw dozens of natural arches, miles of canyons, tons of rocks, and had endless dreams of future 4x4 trips in the Utah wilderness. But I was particularly disappointed by the “accessibility,” or rather the guise of accessibility in some of the parks along our route. For those of you who are unfamiliar, my profession as a physical therapist has led me to work with children and adults of all ages with varying levels of physical disability. Unfortunately, because many buildings and outdoor adventures are designed for able-bodied humans, those with physical disabilities are at a disadvantage and leads my patients to have less participation in activities compared to their able-bodied peers and family members. Thus fed my disappointment when a trail in Arches was marked as “negligible” elevation gain, when in fact I found myself stepping up rock-cut stairs, or huffing and puffing a nearly 10% grade. It is likely that National Parks have improved in their accessibility over the years as evidenced by two balloon-tire manual wheelchairs available at Great Dunes National Park — one for adults and one for children. However, this is still a far cry from “accessible” when the park has over 6,000 cars entering the park on holiday weekends with nearly 14% of the US population recorded as having a mobility disability (as identified by the CDC). These are the types of obstacles that keep my patients’ families from exploring the outdoors. One concept that I have gotten particularly interested in is universal design. Essentially, this takes into consideration the abilities of all people and allows them to have similar experiences despite their differing abilities. One common example is curb cuts in the sidewalk: they allow people utilizing wheeled mobility an avenue to traverse a city without assistance, but in the process allows many others an accessible route including those with limited leg strength, parents with strollers, toddlers whose legs are not yet long enough to step up, travelers lugging a rolling suitcase, UPS delivery persons wheeling their carts, and someone with a sports injury using crutches for a short time. Another example of universal design: all gender bathrooms. A common line for all people and no question as to who belongs, including a middle age son assisting his mother in the bathroom or a mother with her special needs older son. Most of our experiences everyday tend to be exclusive; universal design strives to make our experiences inclusive. One sport we have encountered a great deal this trip that has really embraced universal design and participation are adaptive ski programs. With a volunteer, a differently-abled individual is able to learn to ski with volunteers with the equipment that best fits them. For some it is a ski sled, for others traditional skis or snowboard, and for others a ski-bike. The resorts with these programs have arranged their lines and lifts so all persons, no matter their equipment are able to ride, and as we noticed at a few resorts, even abled-bodies skiers are able to join their buddies on ski bikes so everyone can have fun together. If this sparked your interest, check out Roman Mars on my favorite podcast, 99% Invisible, and one of my favorite episodes on universal design, Curb Cuts: https://99percentinvisible.org/episode/curb-cuts/. Although not every experience can be accessible in the outdoors, such as all the fun that Jaimie and I had on the Devil’s Garden hike, we should all look for opportunities to solicit our parks and similar recreation entities for expanding their accommodations and accessible options. For example, simply increasing the signage and mile markers on trails to also include elevation gain allows a person with limited mobility or endurance to accurately judge how far they are able to safely traverse without putting themselves or others in danger. There are ways to improve accessibility that do not include a complete overhaul of the National Parks System and instead would better the system for all: -Limit the number of people on a specific trail 10% of the time to improve safety but give priority to those with a National Parks Service Access Pass which denotes a permanent disability, hidden or not. -Post “right-of-way” rules at the bottom of each trail and at major bottle necks to improve safety and to preserve the right of way for those who rely on it. -Accessibility from a non-mobility lens: Create programs that work to bring children and families of low socioeconomic status out to national parks for group camping, hiking, and activity trips. The question the concept of accessibility raises is what is the goal of our national parks in its role in serving the public. Specifically, where do we stop considering the wilderness is inherently in opposition to the word accessible? I would propose that the system have the goal of making 13.7% of trails accessible to reflect the population of the United States identified as having mobility limitations. I will end my soapbox here, but I will say that my trip to the National Parks in the past couple of months has created a new dream job: consulting for the National Parks Service on accessibility with an emphasis on universal design, with an unlimited budget :) As mentioned in the last post, after New Mexico, we traversed our way to Breckenridge, Colorado to meet up with friends. They graciously let us stay in their ski in / ski out condo, so we left Lucy and Ricky in the parking lot of the condo. Per the usual, that was not without troubles, as I almost drove the camper into an underpass of the resort, thankful that sometimes those signs for 12-foot height restrictions are really 13 feet! Breckenridge was an absolute blast of skiing and snowboarding as the region faced a record-breaking 7 feet of snow over the first 17 days of February. It seemed to be snowing nonstop over the five days we spent in Breckenridge. We spent most of our time on the mountain, although Chelsea sat out one of the blizzard days to study. In the blizzard conditions while snowboarding, I faced a white-out and experienced a bit of vertigo on some above tree line skiing. The conditions were incredible, and after avalanche control did their thing, we had some mind blowing runs in waist deep powder. We spent most of our evenings in the hot tub with beers, coolers, and snowflakes falling to build caricatures on our hair. Although we ate most of our meals in the condo, we enjoyed a night of great beers and conversation at the Breckenridge Brewery. With that being said, we likely won’t return to Breckenridge. In stark contrast with Taos, our fellow ski patrons were not the friendliest people. One of the lowlights of the trip revolved around me being misgendered and a man picking a fight with me in the lift line. On another occasion, an elderly white couple asked if I worked at the resort even though I was lounging in the hot tub alongside them. These issues with me being misgendered and the racial prejudice dwarfed any issues with us traveling as a gay couple. After Breckenridge, we set off for Denver to spend time with friends and drop Chelsea off at her conference. We spent the night at a site from Boondockers Welcome, which is a fantastic community of RVers who host fellow travelers on their land. It’s similar to couch surfing, but with large parking spots! We spent an evening visiting a dear rugby friend of mine, who made an awesome dinner from a super-secret Instapot recipe. Before sunrise the next morning, I dropped Chelsea off at the Hyatt near the convention center. It was quite the scene pulling up for Chelsea to hop out into the lobby. I then proceeded to drive to Arapahoe Basin for some skiing. The weather had mentioned partial clouds, so I expected a relatively easy drive. As I started up and around the Loveland pass to A-Basin's base elevation at 10,520 feet, the conditions quickly changed into a brief but powerful snowstorm. Loveland Pass was quite tumultuous and on the way up, I saw what appeared to be a skiing hitchhiker in full gear next to his parked Subaru. Assuming he was stuck and couldn’t make it up the pass, I pulled over, and he hopped into the truck with the wind whipping and slapping the door closed. As we drove, the skier told me that the pass used to be a ski area for the University of Denver. We were about to discuss politics when we got to a tractor trailer that appeared stuck at the top of the pass. As I was semi-panicking about how to get around and through the trafficky mess in such low-visibility conditions, the skier asked me to pull over for him to hop out because he was actually skiing the pass and not heading to the ski resort as I had assumed! He opened the door and immediately my windows mercilessly fogged up as the cold air rushed in. So now, I faced both horrifically fogged windows, blizzard-like visibility as I approached above tree line, and a cluster of vehicles in front of me. Frantically searching to see the road, I creeped forward while wiping the window frantically with a spare T-shirt from the back seat. Eventually, after the 45 seconds that felt like 10 minutes, a snowplow passed by in the opposite direction dumping browned salt on the road for me to use as a road guide. Like following Hansel and Gretel’s crumbs, I crept across the rest of the pass at a feeble pace until finally getting to a windbreak lower in the mountains. (Don’t worry, I kept all this secret from Chelsea until I wrote the blog). Finally arriving at A-Basin, I took a nap before hitting the mountain hard. It is a very challenging mountain, and some skiers refer to it as “Jackson Hole-lite.” Snowboarding the back bowls and above tree line skiing in the whiteout conditions proved even more challenging. For those that don’t ski or snowboard, imagine trying to drive in a field where the sky and the road appear to be the same white sheet of snow. After another small bout with vertigo, I decided to call it quits and enjoyed chatting with fellow skiers at the bar. The relaxed culture of the weekday skiers at A-basin was reminiscent of the culture of Taos and was much needed. Around lunchtime, I began making my way to visit Chelsea’s college teammate in Gypsum, Colorado, a small mountain town just west of Vail. Fittingly, only twenty minutes on the way, I saw the storm had passed and Keystone Ski Resort was having a bluebird afternoon. So that’s how I spent the afternoon. Oh, the beauty of Colorado mountains. Chelsea and I spent about a week in Gypsum catching up with one of Chelsea’s friends. The time was so rejuvenating and simple: playing with her dogs, going on hikes, and many visits to the local Bonfire Brewery. One highlight of the week was an evening “hike” in snow packed waist deep snow almost a mile up a mountainside to have a campfire in an igloo-like dugout area. Not realizing how incredible the experience would be, Chelsea and I both forgot our phones! Also, many thanks to friends for making our skiing experience at Beaver Creek wild by showing us the secret stashes of powder. #ladyshredders Although this experience in middle-of-nowhere Colorado is very different than life in Denver or Colorado Springs, I think Chelsea and I both see this time as a preview of a life out this way where our lives are a bit redirected and refocused to be geared towards the outdoors. We’re off to a couple national parks next for some study time before Chelsea takes her pediatric physical therapist specialist exam! Author: Jaimie and Chelsea It has been quite a whirlwind in the Mountain West, so we have been a bit distracted from documenting our travels! From the Midwest, we quickly made our way to Taos Ski Resort. It was quite the 18-hour journey, and Chelsea thought Jaimie was crazy for wanting to do it in two days. The drive through Kansas was a bit boring, but we really enjoyed both the excellent gas mileage and change in scenery as we hit the Southwest and Southern Colorado. We arrived late in the evening on our second day of travel, but we were able to park extremely easily at Taos Ski Resort, which is one of the few mountains that allows RV parking. We hit our first snowstorm heading up through the mountain pass just south of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains with their 14,000 foot peaks. Taos was absolutely amazing with a great culture about it. It was extremely welcoming, laidback, and filled with locals. From friendly conversations on the lift lines to the rainbowed caricature of vans and RVs in the parking lot, it was fantastic to hang out and chat with a variety of fun people. There were a couple of hiccups on the mountain. For example, at 10,000 feet of elevation, our refrigerator decided that it did not want to run off of propane. That would have been okay if our generator hadn’t also decided that the elevation was too much of a hassle for it to run on the first couple of starter tugs. Aside from those initial complications, we hit some great runs on a very steep mountain and also enjoyed watching the Super Bowl from the camper. After a few days on the mountain, we had to head to Santa Fe for an oil change. Despite being a gas vehicle, many shops turn us down because we are too tall to fit in their bays (don’t get us started that they can do an oil change without lifting the rig!) so we have had to find diesel shops that work on very large vehicles to service Ricky. The drive to the shop was stunning, with mesmerizing views of the Rio Grande Gorge. Chelsea attempted studying on the drive, but couldn’t stop looking at all the amazing sights which are amazingly different from the east coast we are used to. At the National Forest office, we received a ton of intel about the region, including some possible police caution tape at the location we planned on spending the night! The day included a lot of driving, but we ended the night in Taos for window shopping at local art galleries and a delightful dinner at a tiny local Mexican restaurant. We spent the night at the Rio Grande Gorge rest stop, which was extremely convenient for waking up after a snowstorm ready to hike. Although we planned for a handful of hikes, we ended up going on two that were still spectacular: a quick jaunt up alongside the rim of the gorge and then a drive and hike to hot springs down by the river. At the hot springs, we encountered some locals that were enjoying the water in the nude; hence, no pictures of the awesomeness. It will be a long time before we forget sitting in a natural spring as warm as a hot tub alongside a freezing running river with the banks covered in fresh snow. We continued that day’s journey by traveling to the Rio Grande Gorge National Monument that was forest land further to the north. We voyaged on 20+ miles of snowy forest land before settling in on a campsite overlooking the river. The night’s view of the snow engulfed gorge was such a contrast from the brighter orange and red of the prior evening. Our wishes were granted with the bundle of firewood left by a prior camper that warmed our hands in the 3-degree weather of the evening’s sunset. The next morning, we started our travel towards Breckenridge, Colorado. We decided to take the travel in two stages. First, a stop in the Great Sand Dunes National Park. Just before the park we found a hike to a frozen waterfall called the Zapata Falls. While the trail to the falls was short, the 3-mile drive off-roading on an ungraded road took 40 minutes each way. Never before had we been happy to find snow on a road to help ease the turbulent bouncing of the camper in the truck bed. The hike had frozen over, so the jaunt involved a bit of unplanned ice-skating on the creek leading to the cave-enclosed falls. After the hike, we ventured to the sand dunes that sat perched under the picturesque snow-capped mountains. Great Sand Dunes National Park was kind of an unreal experience which is still very difficult to describe. At a distance, the dunes look like small hills. But as we drove closer, these 750-foot sandy peaks encompassed our entire view, hiding even the mountains behind. We spent a few hours walking around them, although the windy 20-degree weather deterred us from climbing the biggest sandy peaks. Chelsea decided to bodyslide down a smaller dune, and it really gave us perspective on just how large they were [check out the photos in the slideshow]. The dunes felt like you were in a desert in the Middle East, but the chilly wind was a stark reminder that we were truly on the floor of the San Luis Valley at the western base of the Sangre de Cristo Range. After some errand running in Salida, Colorado, we made our way to a small RV park in Fairplay. We rarely stay in RV parks, and use them only for dumping our tanks, laundry, and filling them with water as needed. Well, the RV park had almost none of those amenities as their laundry machines were broken and they had no running water for the winter months. But after a bit of frustrating calls, we made a game plan for errand running in the morning before heading to ski in Breckenridge. That night, Chelsea had trouble sleeping as it was extremely windy. At 2am, thinking that Jaimie was somewhat awake, Chelsea told Jaimie about a massive storm that might block the Hoosier Pass from Fairplay to Breckenridge. That put us into emergency mode, and we woke up the next day before sunrise to hit the road as early as possible. Jaimie jumped outside with a hammer, de-icing spray, and a space heater. She warmed up the dump valves on the RV with the space heater and went at the frozen cap in the ground to the sewer connection while Chelsea worked on prepping the RV for travel and Breckenridge. It was only 5 degrees outside with a blistering windchill of -10, so Jaimie definitely pulled the short straw. Thankfully, we had similarly dumped our grey tanks in the cold weather before (at midnight in Burlington, Vermont in negative 8-degree weather, you can see a trend building…). After an hour of work including winterizing the truck, we then started the drive to Breckenridge. The pass was just as windy as advertised and we were very happy to have conquered its icy turns and dips in the daytime without the start of the storm. Next, Breckenridge! Author: Jaimie After departing Erie, Pennsylvania and Cleveland, Ohio following fantastic visits with Chelsea’s family, we jumpstarted out of the east coast. Our journey would take us first south, to Mammoth Cave National Park in Kentucky, and then slightly northwest, to visit my basketball coaches Nancy Fahey and Dianna Pasley at the University of Illinois. I think both Chelsea and I felt like our adventure was about to begin when we hit the road towards Kentucky. We no longer had the “let’s just ship it to Erie” crutch for forgetting supplies or the “Dad can fix it when we get there” mentality for any issues with the camper. Items that were on the checklist transformed into afterthoughts and dreams for the unknown “after the trip.” Mammoth Cave National Park was a destination that I had picked out for Chelsea. On our initial itinerary, it was only a one-hour detour, but even the now four-hour detour was certainly worth the gas mileage. Mammoth Cave is the longest known cave system in the world. Our visit included a tour through just .04% of the system but would take over 2.5 hours to traverse. If you didn't know, there are two things I am desperately afraid of: heights and the deep underground. When I’m on a ski lift, I have grown into a professional at pretending that I’m somewhere else or distracted by planning my next run on the powder under the chair. But it was my first time underground caving… Thankfully, walking into the cave was absolutely stunning. The breathtaking sheer volume of the entrance outweighed the fact that we were at least 4 flights of stairs underground with at least 15 tons of rock covering each cubic foot of discovery. I think it was fitting that Mammoth Cave was our first destination. Although our tour was based on geology of the cave system, the Park Ranger ensured that he laced the tour with slivers of history where necessary. And like all history in Kentucky, the story of Mammoth Cave was robustly intertwined with the history of American slavery (https://www.nps.gov/maca/learn/historyculture/black-history.htm). Without getting into too much detail, Mammoth Cave was first explored by indigenous peoples between 2,000 and 4,000 years ago (3000 — 1000 B.C.). These first explorers mined the cave for calcium sulfate (also known as gypsum), which is currently used in commercial baked goods as a dough-strengthener and color enhancer (check your food labels!). After the caves were rediscovered in the 1800’s, the American public began to appreciate the geologic, cultural, and biological importance of Mammoth Cave. African Americans played a vital role in the development of cave tour routes and the visitor experience throughout the 19th and early 20th century. The first black guides were slaves and through their efforts opened up the golden age of cave exploration for Mammoth Cave. Specifically, the work of then 17-year-old slave, Stephen Bishop, led to massive exploration and mapping of the cave system before his untimely death at the age of 36. In this dangerous work, slaves and then freed African-Americans first served as tour guides until the trade became lucrative enough for white men to take over the work. When we toured, we saw evidence of these early tours, including candlestick ash signatures of the visitors that the guides allowed for additional tips despite the laws protecting the caves at the time. This trip has such a vulnerability because I’m traveling as a black woman with Chelsea. Thankfully for the most part, the racism I have experienced thus far has just been an annoyance. White skiers assuming I’d never been on a mountain before or woman double-taking or staring as I walk into the bathroom as the six-foot figure in front of them must be a man that accidently stumbled into the women’s restroom. The sexism is generally less rampant, but comes at some inopportune times, such as when undergoing maintenance or when men talk about the truck and camper as if we don’t intimately know the set up we are living in. And for the homophobia, we thankfully have yet to face any outright as the other travelers we have come across have been very welcoming. But I think the remoteness of where we are traveling brings a type of caution that I’ve never thought about, such as not being open about our travel plans and destination, sleeping with my head next to pepper spray, and chuckling when Facebook group members offer to host us or take us on adventures in the backcountry. The cautiousness doesn’t damper the excitement of our travel, but I think it’s the first time that I’ve thought about the power of manmade fear. After Mammoth, we spent a night at Nolin Lake State Park, which was essentially abandoned for the winter but still offered up an incredible sunset while stoking Chelsea’s masterful campfire. Chelsea and I were equally happy to make our way out of the back roads of Kentucky that were overly sprinkled with Confederate flags and gun shops whose campaign signs reminded us that we were in Trump country. On the way out of the area, we stopped at the Jim Beam distillery to experience the Kentucky Bourbon trail – again a Chelsea favorite. Chelsea and I were both very excited for the second stop on our westward journey – Champaign, Illinois. My former basketball coach, Coach Fahey, left my alma mater Washington University in St. Louis for the head coaching job at the University of Illinois in 2017. Our visit was relaxing and it was invigorating to catch up with fantastic mentors of mine. One of the highlights was shooting around at State Farm Center before practice and being introduced to the players whose faces were very much surprised when I explained the massive truck camper parked outside the arena. That three-day stop, in the shadow of Kobe Bryant’s death, was a fantastic reminder of the power of women’s athletics, which Kobe was an adamant advocate of. The stories and hospitality shared on the visit with Coach were an important part of the rejuvenation that I was seeking on the trip. I’m writing you now from the road and the 18-hour drive to our next destination…. Cheers to safe travels and entertaining podcasts! Author: Jaimie We had an absolute blast in Vermont. First, it was great to get out of a major city. Finally being able to not worry about parking and narrow city streets definitely put our minds at ease. The last week in Washington, D.C., we almost went down a tunnel too short for our rig, weaved through rush hour traffic exiting K street, avoided countless pedestrians and bikers, and navigated parking at multiple metro stations. In contrast, while Vermont has its share of windy roads, we warmly welcomed the views and ease of navigating. Our first stop was Killington Ski Resort, which had awesome free overnight parking. Ski conditions were a bit rough due to the 60+ degree weather that hit the east coast the previous day. But midweek east coast skiing is some of the best no-crowd chill skiing. The mountains are simple to conquer while still getting decent vertical. After a few runs, we went to the local establishment to get some work done during happy hour. The only hiccup in the day was forgetting to secure the refrigerator door -- but thankfully the water pitcher was the only casualty! We spent a couple days in Killington attempting to hike (the trails were too icy without cramp-ons) and enjoying town. After Killington, we spent a day in Burlington. It was great to see the town where we may end up living. Chelsea and I had both visited independently of one another, but walking and driving around together really made it feel like we could live there. For those looking for low-cost gear, check out the Outdoor Gear Exchange, which is like REI but has a huge selection of quality used gear. Chelsea got hooked up with her first new ski boots in a decade! Another highlight includes the coffee stout at Foam Brewery. We spent the next few days at Sugarbush Ski Resort, who allowed us to park overnight in their parking lot. We hunkered down and were hit with almost a foot of snow, -8 degree temperature, -20 degree windchill, and 25mph gusts of wind. The weather definitely tested our rig! We were able to keep the thermostat around 60 degrees, which kept everything from freezing, but realized we needed to upgrade our batteries because the furnace fan uses a lot of power. Additional batteries became another item for the checklist of things to do in Erie, PA before heading west. Although Chelsea was fighting a cold, I ended up having a good half-day on the mountain before we set sails for Stowe, VT and some errand running on the short trip north. My brother and cousin has already planned on a ski trip to Stowe over MLK Weekend, so they met up with us for the weekend’s adventures from Saturday to Monday morning. Thanks to my brother, we were able to abandon Lucy and Ricky for the weekend. In between skiing, we also went to one of Chelsea’s favorite breweries, the Alchemist, that serves almost exclusively IPAs. For the trip, we are attempting to limit our spend on alcohol by drinking mostly cheap beer (eg Coors Light), but the Alchemist was worth the visit and offered essentially unlimited free samples. We had some laughs leaving the Alchemist as recalled only a few days later where we had to unthaw the nozzle of our grey tank with a space heater powered but our generator in their parking lot. Overall, Vermont was a beautiful but challenging introduction to our trip. Some photos from the trip sit at our Instagram account. Vermont showed us some of the limitations on our current set-up and also that we really picked the perfect adventure for the next few months. Thanks to Vermont for a fond farewell to the East Coast before we head to Erie and then meander west! Authors: Chelsea & Jaimie A lot of people may have never heard of a truck camper as a type of RV. Essentially, a truck camper is an RV that fits into the bed of a pickup truck. There are various types of truck campers from pop-up campers that fit into a half-ton truck. to those with three "slide-outs" and require a F-450 class truck. Just google image search "truck camper" and you will get an idea. Inside a truck camper, there is surprisingly quite a bit of room rivaling an affordable studio apartment in NYC. Our camper includes a kitchen, bathroom complete with a shower, dinette, and a queen size bed. Taking the kitchen first, you will find a three-burner stove, double sink, refrigerator/freezer, and microwave. There is room for an oven, although thankfully our unit uses that space as storage instead. Next, the bathroom -- it is considered a "wet bath" which means that the bathroom and shower are in the same space. Surprising to some of you, Jaimie just has to duck a little bit to fit. Our model camper has a U-shaped dinette in which the table can be removed and converted into a second sleeping space. Lastly, the "bedroom" has a drawer and a cabinet on each side for wardrobe storage and can be separated from the rest of the space by a curtain. Jaimie tried to get Chelsea to consider a tiny house many times before this trip. I guess she got her way because a truck camper is equipped with all the same systems that you would want in a house -- plumbing & sewer, hot water heater, furnace, air conditioning, and electricity with solar. These systems are a little bit different as they mostly run off 12V batteries or propane with a few exceptions (AC and microwave). We won't bore you with the details, but we can basically service your home systems after getting to know our systems so intimately (but really, call an actual qualified repair-person, not us newbies.) Picking up from the last post: When the newly-paired Lucy and Ricky made it home to Chapel Hill, Chelsea could no longer stand the 80s-style upholstery and the luan plywood with a wallpaper texture and pattern straight from her nightmares. Thus, the renovation began. For evidence that the camper interior looked like a replica of the 1986 Bounder from Breaking Bad, see the slideshow below. Renovating something as small as a truck camper may sound inexpensive, but I swear it takes twice the time because who the heck is small enough to fit into all the small spaces that needed painting? What came first? The walls. Chelsea went to Sherwin Williams and Home Depot to buy the mother-of-all-primers and cover-all paints because we read that painting luan is a job for a magician. Picking the color took some time as we had our style to develop and we wanted it to look like a real home. Once we decided to paint, it wall all over -- we chose to install a lightweight faux-tile backsplash in the kitchen, demo the wooden window treatments and blinds, reupholster the dinette and other various fabric upholstery (which was everywhere), and place a faux-hardwood stick on flooring. We chose to keep the cabinets the light color they were because they matched our new home well...actually, if we're behind honest, the risks of killing each other outweighed the benefits of changing the cabinet color. The overall renovation took about six weeks of us working on and off after work and weekends. While we tried to be as low-cost and efficient as possible, we don't really know the total cost of the renovation. But for us, it was worth it. We fell in love with the renovation throughout the process and once again when it was all put together. What matters the most: it feels like OUR home and not a camper from 2003 that had three previous owners. Some may argue that we don't have a house yet, but we know we have a home. Comparison Photos Before photos: During the renovation: After photos: Author - Chelsea Over July 4th weekend of last year, Jaimie and I purchased our new-to-us black 2005 GMC 2500 diesel truck and 2003 Bigfoot Truck Camper -- Boss and Betty. We met the seller in Dawsonville, GA and I drove (alone) all the way home nearly 400 miles. I had never driven a diesel truck, but it hauled that camper like there was nothing in the bed, and I cruised the whole way home in the pouring rain. There is a rumor that I came too close to the gas pump, running into the concrete protector and stripping the front jack from the camper less than 50 miles from home. Like I said though, just a rumor. To say I was intimidated by the camper is an understatement. I didn't open the camper again until Jaimie made it back to North Carolina because I was somewhat in denial that the huge truck and camper in the parking lot of my apartment complex was not mine. When I finally again entered the camper with Jaimie, there was lots of exchanges of "I don't know!" and "why isn't it working?! It worked in Georgia!" The camper has all the systems that a house does, just way smaller and a tad different -- kitchen and bathroom plumbing with a hot water tank, water pump, propane furnace, 12V electrical system on marine deep cycle batteries, air conditioning, and sewer. Appliances include a microwave and three-burner stove. To learn all we could, the rig traveled to a local RV shop - shoutout to A&M Services - where Jaimie spent hours upon hours testing all the systems, completing some and planning for additional repairs. With two new AGM batteries on board, our solar hooked up, and a new water pump, we were ready for a test trip! Camping was fun and we were able to learn how to fill and dump the tanks amongst other tasks, but there was still some work to do upon our return to North Carolina. One day while working in the parking lot of the apartment, we turned the truck on and within 10 minutes it stalled and would not start again. The check engine light was on and our journey into diesel truck repair began. Before we even got the truck to a shop there were lots of tears and fears. In a saga that lasted nearly six weeks and included a fuel injector control module repair, suspension repairs, power steering pump replacement, diagnosis of bad turbo and fuel injectors, many calls to my father the part-time diesel mechanic, and MANY, MANY waves of emotions, it ended with the decision to cut our losses and look for a new truck. Truck shopping lasted less than two weeks - we were budgeting for a 2500 with plans to upgrade the suspension, install a swaybar, and add better tires. What we found left us pinching ourselves. Let me tell you, I have never seen more salesmen peek around the corner of a cubical as when two women traded in a 2005 Volkswagen Passat for a 2017 Ram 3500 "gasser." The truck went back to the RV shop to get set up for our camper while the rest of the repairs were complete and nearly two months after the first check engine light we drove the newly-paired (and newly re-named) Ricky and Lucy off the service lot. And so is the legend of how Boss became Ricky. Up next: The Remodel. |
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About UsWe're traveling across the country, skiing / snowboarding, exploring national parks, and looking for our next home (that's not on wheels). Archives |