I have always said you need to live somewhere for a year to really appreciate it. You can’t expect to enjoy the deeper, subtle and endearing qualities that make any place special if all you’ve done is buzz into town, scarf down a few tacos, snap a few photos, then take off like a bad one night stand.

On tour with the big truck, I’ve given up hope that I could ever get to know each of our destinations, but at a minimum I’m going to try and scratch beyond the outer surface. And while I’ll never have a year to get to know any single place, I’m thinking maybe a week will do. And that is how we have gotten to know our first non-US stop of Puerto Penasco, Mexico — or as it’s called in English – Rocky Point.

Wendy at JJ's Cantina, Puerto Penasco, Mex

We’d intended on staying just a few days in Rocky Point to get our Mexico sea legs under us, snag a TelCel SIM card and be on our way. But we ended up spending more than a week and had the chance to not only meet locals but watch  the ebb and flow of a small town struggling to make a come-back in the aftermath of a US-imposed economic hangover. Through all of it, we enjoyed what we’ve dubbed Beginner’s Mexico for not only its cheap tacos and brilliant sunsets, but for the hospitality of its people and endearing charm.

Puerto Penasco or Rocky Point Basics

Located just 100 miles south of US border on the northeast side of the Sea of Cortez in the California Gulf, Puerto Panesco is where desert meets sea, a location referred to by many as “Arizona’s coast”. Puerto Panesco spans just 10 square miles, but boasts 57,000 full time residents and 110 Km of pristine beaches. Officially speaking, nothing frigging grows here. I’m no botanist, but it seems the flora spectrum ends with scrub brush and sand. And there is also no local fresh water source.

Sunday Hash Run at Rocky Point, Cholla Bay

But for tourism, Puerto Panesco is a boating, fishing and water lover’s paradise, as well as a haven for four-wheel drive enthusiasts with dune buggies, ATVs and sand crawlers. The beach is long and swimmable, the daily tide changes make for interesting beach walking and the sunsets can’t be beat.

Rocky Point’s Growth Trajectory

The town has been a hotbed for expat revelry since the 1920s when anti-prohibitionist entrepreneurs – including Al Capone I’m told – found a way to bring in both water and flight service to the town. Rocky Point continued growing through the 30s and 40s but it was not until the mid 1990s that the town began to transform into a major tourist destination. Mega resort developers arrived, blue prints in tow, and got busy selling condos and high rise towers. This continued through 2007, the town on a fast track to success with 12% annual growth. Spirits were high and money was flowing.

But when the US economy tanked and the steady stream of Arizona money fled back to the north, Rocky Point went from boom to bust overnight. Newly minted restaurants found themselves without customers. Retail stores boarded up. And the high rise construction projects simply stopped, no hammer left behind.

Puerto Panesco Real Estate

The aftermath of this desolation is a mile of half-built beach-front high rises along a pristine sandy beach, most of them deserted and fenced off, their sales billboards still upright and promoting a lifestyle of luxury, but their faces sand-blasted from time like the dreams they represent.

Yet Rocky Point prevails. A few of its hotels are bustling with visitors, its sand dunes booming with ATVs and its beaches filled with music and families of both Mexican and US descent.

In the eight days we spent here, we camped in three spots, got to experience many sides of this small town as it struggles to recover from the recession in the wake of AZ financial ruin. Here is what we found.

Part 1 – Puerto Penasco – Gringo Party Town

Puerto Panesco Malecon

For many Americans, Mexico is more a state of mind than a location. With cheap tequila, blaring music and lax laws, its one place you can kick off your flip flops and let your id reign without fear of repercussion beyond a wicked headache. Our first few days in town resembled this description, as we enjoyed a three day binge with some hashers from Phoenix, El Paso and Tuscon. By day, we ran through the dusty streets of Rocky Point and Cholla Bay, stopping for breaks at local watering holes to refresh ourselves. We bought beers with dollars not pesos, and nary a word of Spanish was muttered anywhere.

Our nights were filled with sunset cruises, bar hopping, beach bonfires, and throwing caution to the wind in all ways. I have a faint memory of jumping into the back of a pickup truck for a ride home one night, and all I could think was “this could never happen in the US!“

The weekends bring the crowds – or at least some weekends and some crowds – but the town is built to handle six times the number of partiers we saw here. There are sunset cruises, fishing trips, ATV rentals and tasty taco stand after taco stand ready to meet your vacation needs. Downtown sports a newly constructed Malecon (boardwalk) with restaurants and bars and kitsch-lined dusty streets. The Cholla Bay community to the north, is a quiet residential community but also home to the famous JJs Cantina, a watering hole landmark on the water with a three story cement patio that has been home to no doubt thousands of epic parties.

Part 2 – Rocky Point’s Sleepier Side

But on Mondays, Rocky Point goes dark. The town empties out and the tone takes on the solitude of a Monastery. This is when the natural beauty began to shine through brightly as we enjoyed time on the beach a la a Corona commercial. Moonlit nights, the sound of waves lapping gently at the shore, the birds in flight along the water permeate the scene.

We’d moved up beach to The Reef  for our “campground with benefits” for the week. The Reef is a three mile run from town and is a BYO everything sort of place, but with a couple beach front restaurants, laundry facilities and a small convenience store, it was all we needed to detox from our weekend in town and get our heads screwed on straight.

Camped at The Reef, Rocky Point

Puerto Panesco Beach at The Reef

Its $35 to park in the RV Park next to some snowbird from Miscokee, but its just $5 a day to camp literally on the sand sans hookup or water next door. We filled up and took our chances on the beach, and it proved to be the right choice. Every day we had fresh burritos and fruit from a local vendor, swum in the ocean, and met new motorhead enthusiasts just passing by. Best of all, we had access to quick laundry and water at the RV park for $7, and we boosted the WIFI into the truck for a strong signal 24 X 7. I was in heaven working, uploading photos and even making free Google Voice calls back to the states all I wanted.

Part 3 : The Rocky Point Locals

Our friends Mike & Eldi with their Dune Buggy, Puerto Panesco

We’re not afraid to admit: our Spanish is not where it needs to be. Rushed to get into the country, our Spanish lessons on CD remained perched on our bookshelf until we crossed the border. Since conversing with locals is still a bit tough, Jim managed to introduce himself to a gringo with a Mexican family, and that ended up not only making us some new great friends, but gave us the chance to see the “real” side of Puerto Panesco through the eyes of locals without major language barriers. We spent our last couple days in town with them, enjoying Cinco de Mayo locals’s style.

Mike and Eldi have called Puerto Panesco their second home for more than ten years. They have operated local businesses, restaurants and even managed large scale development projects in town and today spend their weekends here after commuting from the States each week, where their two children go to school. Mike gave us a fabulous point to point tour in his 8-seater dune buggy, taught us where to get the best tacos and rotisserie chicken in town – or maybe the world — and offered up his fenced yard for parking our vehicle overnight. We enjoyed several meals with this wonderful family, getting to learn about the area and practice our Spanish with some true bilinguals.

Going to the beach

Mike and Family with Us and Truck

The Future Rocky Point

The Beach at Rocky Point, Mexico

Rumor has it that Carnival Cruises is coming to town next year and making the deserted beach we called home a docking spot for mega-ships. Boatloads of the great unwashed masses will then spill onto the sandy streets and into the arms of the eagerly awaiting town vendors. I can’t say it will be a welcome change from my perspective but for Rocky Point’s sake I suppose I’m for it. As a town on the perpetual brink of making it big for a while, perhaps this time it will.

Rocky Point: If You Go

I can’t do the town any more justice than this Wikipedia site, listing all the top bars, places and beaches. If you are overlanding, I also however recommend camping at The Reef, where you’ll see some of the most beautiful moonlit nights you can imagine and get to watch the tide come in and out twice a day. Warning: I’ve read some pretty nasty reviews on Trip Advisor for people that paid ahead of time, had trouble getting their money back etc. Our experience was only to show up and pay on site. With that, all was good.

Neva Runs Free At Dog Beach

For many people, there is nothing more special than the companionship of a dog… their unbounded enthusiasm for you, undying loyalty and unconditional love they bring every day without fail. They are empaths that know exactly how to turn your grey skies blue, they know when to snuggle, leave you be or just sit by your side. And for other people, dogs are but a hairy, messy, costly, demanding time suck.

And that pretty much sums up the difference between Jim and me.

So you can imagine how the conversation about bringing our dog Neva on this trip has gone from the very start. Let me state for the record, if I didn’t have a dog, I would not choose to get one for this trip. I agree in theory that a dog is not more of a detraction than an additive to a long road trip. Yet I already have a dog, one I raised from eight weeks whom I consider my sidekick in life. Love me? Love my dog.

As such, I have pushed to have our dog Neva join us on this trip and Jim has reluctantly gone along with my program. To prepare, I not only sought advice from other furry-friendly road trippers such as Sprinter Life and author Lorraine Chittock but have painstakingly trained her to be a better traveler with my trainer Lesa Crowe and invested in vaccines and bi-lingual health certificates from Pet Travel for just every central and south American country available. I have scoured Amazon for all the right accessories, food items and packed her box accordingly. As her keeper, I raised my right hand and promised to take the brunt of the responsibility for feeding, walking and cleaning up after her. I vowed to vacuum the truck frequently, brush her daily, and even remove her leash from its many entanglements. To me these are not burdensome chores, but what one does as part of a loving partnership you share with your best friend.

And so for the last six months she has been with us on the road. Many nights we spent at a friend’s house indoors or in a gated yard where she could roam free, but for the last month we’ve been 100% out without a safety net.

Neva’s Experience – A Month in the Truck

If you asked Neva, I suspect she’d say the trip is tough on her. A hound dog at heart, she has an uncontrollable prey drive that is tough to channel to something more productive. Getting her to breath deeply and enjoy the endorphin rush of a cat running across the street in front of her while she remains in a down-stay? Next to impossible. Late at night, she obsessively stalks critters through the window, looking out from inside the passenger seat of the truck. I suspect she remains at attention all night long, longing for a glimpse of a rabbit or fox out the windshield. While we’re driving, she lies next to me relaxed – and perhaps sleep deprived from her night owl critter patrol. But when we leave her behind, she scratches the floor in boredom. And when it’s hot outside, as it has been and will be for the next few months, we worry about her safety inside or outside the expedition vehicle while we explore the surrounding territories.

Neva with her Paws

So with these challenges in play, and an increasingly verbal and cranky travel partner in Jim, I’ve finally given in and I’m ready to forgo taking her on this leg of the trip until we either get our international sea legs underneath us, or find our way to cooler climates south of Panama.

So why would anyone want to bring a dog on a roadtrip?

I’ve consulted many fellow road trippers who have brought their dog into Central and South America. I must say that universally, the reports show dog owners were pleased with their decision to take their pet. Because dogs are feared outside the US, they can provide an added layer of safety where there is none. Dogs are also allowed more places outside the US, making them good companions for long city walks, streetside cafes and beach sitting. Their keen sense of smell and hearing can add a safety boost and even help reduce tension at border crossings. Lorraine Chittock has written several books – On a Mission from Dog and Dogs Without Borders on her experiences and those of others traveling across Africa and South America with dogs.

So Why Not Bring your Dog on a Roadtrip?

If all that sounds great, then what would the reasons to leave your pet at home? I’ve sold myself on the reasons to have her along. But the realities remain: how happy is she? Some dogs need a lot more daily exercise than a car trip can provide and simply don’t enjoy being cramped up in this car every day. I mean, what is life without a yard to wander, and lived only at the end of a tight leash? While most dogs run free without leashes in Central America, Neva is just not trustworthy given her varmint chasing tendencies. There is also the hassle factor of having a dog and having to leave them for extended periods of time, having another 500 lbs in the truck and an extra body in tight quarters. And the truth that it’s a dangerous world out there, filled with snakes, rat poison and chicken bones.

What to do about the dog?

We’ve decided to take my sister up on her offer to have her stay with her for the near future. The solution is not perfect because I’m not ready to give her up completely to a new home and never see her again. She will be loved and cared for here, and have dogs to play with, something she enjoys. But I know for Sandy it’s a burden as she has two pups already and Neva adds a larger, more rowdy element to the mix of now three girl dogs. Beyond the territorial fights between them, I hope she will be happier there for the short term.

And other Repercussions?

The unlucky happenstance if you will of this whole ordeal has made me start to question the length of time I really want to be gone. I can hear all you non-dog lovers out there now who are undoubtedly incredulous at my twisted thinking. Could I seriously be considering truncating the trip of a lifetime because of a dog? I don’t know. All I can tell you is we’ll have to see. The script has not yet been written. And the writers are half dog lovers.

For now, we are dropping Neva in So. Cal before we run off into Mexico.

Life Ain't Always Easy in Phoenix

Sorry Phoenix, I’m not going to wax on about your beautiful vistas and lush landscapes. About the best I can say is, “nice cactus.” Beyond that, let’s face it: you are a gravel pit.  You’re a desolate brown land without oasis, suitable for habitation only by those with an exoskeleton or extremely high powered air conditioning.

We just finished three weeks in your grasp, during the transition from winter to summer, a time where temps fluctuated from the 70s to 90s during any given day. The weather was in fact mostly pleasant, as they say, its “a dry heat.” But while your landscapes did not charm us, you are not without merit. In fact, it was your people, or perhaps just our experience with your people and places, that gave us reason to reflect fondly upon you as an integral stop on our trip.

Here are some of the ways you endeared yourself to us despite your crusty outer layer.

1) It’s where we began the decompression process– After finally leaving my day job, many mixed emotions bubbled to the surface. What should have simply been freedom from Outlook tyranny gave rise to an unusual side effect I now relate as akin to Stockholm Syndrome. I began to side with my former “capturer”, blame myself for my enslavement and then actually miss him. Imaginary Outlook meeting reminder dings haunted me like a phantom limb, and I floundered for a week waiting for Microsoft to tell me what to do until I could get my legs back underneath me and begin a new routine. Like a good rehab center, relaxing poolside in Phoenix was the perfect place to sit and contemplate the meaning of life. Eventually I climbed out of my funk and built a new  schedule for combining blog writing with work clients.

Wendy's Personal Betty Ford Clinic: the Seyenna Vistas RV Park Pool

2) Jim indulged in motorcycle therapy in Flagstaff – Flagstaff is to Arizona what Austin is to Texas or Kurt Cobain to Nirvana– the one redeeming quality in an otherwise lackluster experience. So while I (Wendy) was in Denver, Jim spent  a week of moto-R&R near Sunset Crater National Park at Cinders HOV area. Jim’s Flagstaff love-fest included a three day cross-country “free-wheeling” ride across the volcanic mountains on the Honda 250 with his pal Leighton. The GoPro captured his ride on camera, which he claims will mesmerize many men for hours on YouTube. Sadly, I suspect he is right. (footage coming soon).

3) Friendly townies showed us the ropes – Newlywed RV Park neighbors Matthew and Stephanie introduced themselves the moment we pulled in and fast became our nightly dinner partners, running partners and drinking partners. We shared life stories of travel, work and love, and enjoyed their open hearts and southern hospitality. It was this duo who took me to my first hash and took us to climb Squaw Peak, one of the areas top recreational spots. We miss them already!

4) Quality time with some old friends  – In Generation X, Douglas Copeland coined the term “air friends” to describe work pals with whom you feel close when share angst against your common oppressor/employer, but whose friendship disintegrates when the job ends because you have no further common ground. In Fountain Hills, we met up with air friend turned real friend, Neil. I’d not given it much thought as to the influence Neil has had on my life until I hiked with his wife Jeannie and began to explain our shared history to her. From introducing me to yoga to showing me the ropes of book writing and even being the impetus behind the name of my consulting business, Catahoula Marketing, Neil has played a big role in my evolution as a human.  Spending time with Neil and Jeannie was worth the trip to Phoenix alone.

Jeannie and Wendy Hiking in Fountain Valley

5) Fledgling moments of natural beauty– we did take a few cool hikes, including one night hike to Piestewa Peak (or Squaw Peak).  Piestewa rises up out of the flatlands from nothing to 1,200 feet, sporting a quick, steep 1.2 miles trek the top. One night we joined the Arizona Cacophony Society for the Fluor-Ascent night climb. Covered in glow sticks and headlamps, we followed behind a group of well-lit revelers for a three-hour moonlit adventure to the summit to experience the 360 panoramic view of the city. The moon was out, the temperature a cool 75, and the views? Magnificent.

6) Joined a New Club: Phoenix Hash House Harriers– if you’ve not seen my blog on hashing, you can read it here. But suffice it to say Phoenix is where I was introduced to hashing, a running sport that gave me a sound introduction to not only the area’s plentiful dirt alleys, backyard fences and cheap beer houses, but to a new global sub-culture of which I’m thrilled to now call part of me.

Home Away from Home at Seyenna Vista RV Park

7) And who could forget our visits to Bullet Proof Diesel – Ken and Gene Neal run a tight ship at Bullet Proof Diesel, fixing up Ford Trucks with the improved Engine Oil Coolers and EGR Coolers, plus a whole lot more. They’ve helped us on our trip already quite a bit. Jim visited with them for more advice and services to get the truck ready for the long haul.

So while overall, we saw no lush gardens, scenic byways or historical landmarks to relish in Arizona, we still found the beauty of life between the sea of mega strip malls and big box shopping centers. We relished in getting to you know you just the same.  For now? Sinara and thanks. Next stop: Orange County for a dog drop and blender drop.

It’s taken me a few weeks to write this blog. Not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I have so much to learn yet about what it all means.

We knew that embarking on this adventure would introduce us to some amazing people with incredible stories. And we knew we would find joy and sadness from every corner of the earth. But what we didn’t realize is that it would start right here in California.

Phyllis and Jonathan Copp - Global Adventurers

Last month we met a couple who traveled the world by road as we are doing today — but in 1976. Like us, they’d gone by camper, they’d taken over a year to do it, and they’d driven a fairly unbeaten path.

But unlike us, they journeyed long before there was SPOT locator, the Internet, or even decent water purifiers. Their route was one we cannot travel in today’s unstable political climate: one that took them straight through the heart of the Middle East including Nepal, India and Tibet. Through all of this they carried a one-year old baby in tow. Talk about cahones.

After being introduced by email to Phyllis and Jonathan Copp through a friend, we voraciously sought the chance to meet them at their Fullerton home for storytelling one evening.

And as it goes between travelers, the conversation flowed easily. We immediately bonded over a glass of wine and a review of their tattered maps. They toured the truck. We perused their photos and listened with awe as they shared their stories of border crossings and meetings with monks, and in between, all the experiences that shaped their lives to come.

The Copp Road Trip Map - 1976

Their year-long road trip adventure took them from Singapore to Fullerton, CA along a surreptitious route through southern Asia and Middle East. The Copps then settled in Fullerton and made a beautiful life for themselves, where they remain today.

What We Didn’t Know About the Copps

Several brilliantly colored wall-sized nature photographs adorned the walls inside the Copp household, many featuring a lanky, smiley and muscular young man posing alongside a mountain or up inside it. We soon learned the photos were taken by and with their son, a man they called Jonny.

This was the same son who at age one charmed the shrewd sheiks and border guards throughout Asia from their truck. He had grown up to be an adventurer like them. He embraced the lessons they taught him about living life to the fullest, seeking out the unique and following his passion. As such, Jonny Copp had become a much revered mountain climber, photographer, poet, and even a prolific writer who had several bylines at National Geographic Magazine to his name. He’d even started his own Adventure Film Festival a few years ago out of Boulder, CO, which led to even more discussions about where our lives may have crossed paths before.

In talking about Jonny, Phyllis and Jonathon’s eyes lit up like a rocket launch and their smiles stretched ear to ear, beaming with pride. These were two parents who could not be more proud of what their son had become. They shared with us his poems, his artwork and his photos. And we reveled in it.

Jonathan Copp Shows Jim His Maps for Travel in 1976

A little later in the evening, I asked about Jonny’s whereabouts today. It was then that their smiles turned flat and their faces went pale. They paused as it was still so hard for them to admit, that just over two years earlier, Jonny Copp, a man so respected for his strength, resolve and vision for shaping the climbing world, was taken from them at just 36 years old in an Avalanche in Tibet.

The accident had happened during a pre-planned and well-documented first ascent attempt on one of Tibet’s most daunting faces, the east face of  Mount Edgar. He was climbing with fellow climber Micah Dash, and videographer Wade Johnson, all three of whom perished in the massive slide. They had been on assignment and filming their experience for National Geographic. Footage existed for every day up until the morning of the accident that took their lives.

This was a well-known tragedy, featured on international news and at many vigils in Boulder when it had happened. It was something we would have known, had we’d been paying any attention at all. But instead, this news was a shock to us sitting across from the Copps dinner table.

The Pain of Losing a Son

To Phyllis and Jonathon, their pain was as fresh as if it had all happened yesterday. But were they angry? No. As parents, their hearts were broken, but as adventurers they expressed nothing but pride about the boy they’d raised. Their only regrets seemed to be that they would not get to watch him evolve and shape the world any longer.  Their ongoing joy and hope was that his inspiration to others could continue to live on with his foundation and his film festival.

What Does this Mean for Adventurers?

After mulling over this whole bit for more than a month, I think the lesson is this: Life is fleeting. So live it.

We all take risks every day walking across the street, taking a bath, or just cooking dinner. Yet Jonny was doing something extraordinary. And perhaps we delude ourselves into thinking accidents don’t happen to the extraordinary among us, those who fight for the rest of us, show us how to be brave and pave the way for adventure.  But sometimes bad things just happen. And a parent’s shock and feelings of loss will be the same, no matter what. So in the end, living well  is less not about when you die and more about how well you lived.

My take-away: if fear is holding you back, stop it. Don’t let life pass you by; instead do something to live life to its fullest every day. And in the end, don’t fear dying, rather instead fear not really living.

This is not what we expected when we arrived at the Copp household. But it was what we learned about life when we did. Thank you to Phyllis and Jonathan for that lesson and for sharing your hearts with us that night.

One of the greatest things about being on the road is meeting new people.

Hash House Harriers Universal Symbol

Everywhere we’ve stopped, we’ve connected with others who have added a new dimension to our lives. This week, through our new Phoenix friends Matthew and Stephanie, I (Wendy) was doubly pleased to have been introduced to a new social group I hope to follow around the globe … The Hash House Harriers.

If you’ve ever run a structured road race, you’ve likely seen the t-shirts, or perhaps passed a group of runners who have a smirky secret smile on their face as they run past you. They somehow look like they are having more fun than you and you can’t figure out why. Well guess what! They are!

Wendy is Ready for the Hash House Harriers Run

What Exactly are the Hash House Harriers?

The Hash House Harriers is a global social, running and drinking club, that has over 1700 chapters in seven continents. Their motto is they are a “drinking club with a running problem.”  Hashers meet two to three times a week in cities all around the world to share a beer and a run, in whatever order you like.

They make running fun by organizing it like a traditional hound and the hare game – where the hounds chase the hare in a circuitous route across town to the end goal – a bar.  The trail is unplanned until the run begins, and is laid out by two leaders or “hares”  for the rest of the group to follow.

The hares set off  ahead of the pack with chalk in hand to lay a trail that goes for three to six miles. The rest of the group, known as “hounds” then follow behind trying to find the trail as they go.

The trail could go anywhere – across train tracks, into backyards, through buildings. You never know.

Sidewalk chalk marks the path of the hares for the hounds to follow

And along the way you follow the chalk marks and alert others when you’ve found the trail. You may also come across cryptic chalk messages on the ground that ask you to do something silly like sing a song or make a turn-around. It’s a group effort, and at the end, everyone meets again and celebrates with a beverage.

Now, Hash House Harriers is a Group I Can Believe in!

A runner for years, I never felt like I fit in inside a running club. In Boulder, the athletes tended to be of the elite and stuffy kind, where idle chit chat focused mainly on endurance improving techniques, organic food choices, expensive running attire and beating your last fartlec milestones (whatever that is).  Being more of run for fun, enjoy a pizza and beer kinda girl, I never felt I had much in common with the purists and thus was relegated to running on my own, coming home and cracking my bottle of pinot and dialing a non-runner friend for a chat.

Hasher Pals Take a Break at the Bar Mid Run

Until now. I’ve found my home as part of the Phoenix Hash House Harriers. I was indoctrinated last night and have been told my Home Hash is now the Phoenix Hump D’ Hash (Wednesday nights).  As a hash “virgin” they took me in and showed me the ropes, gently. I’m now ready for more.  In fact tonight is one of their special Friday the 13th Day runs, and I intend on showing up.

What it Takes To be a Hasher

They say you have to have a sense of humor, and I’d add to that that your sense of humor must be politically incorrect, sexually oriented and not afraid of getting a little raunchy. The level of sexual innuendos rivals that of  a college rugby or fraternity party. There is definitely a lot of sweating, drinking, and dirty song singing. But if that is a part of you you’re willing to explore, you may just like it.

If you find it suits you, hashing can be a great way to not only keep that body in shape but to meet a new group of friends and socialize in a filter-free environment where you can really let your id reign.

Phoenix pals Matthew and Stephanie

Where You Can Find a Hash

Hash groups are everywhere. Just google it, or check this map directory. put your running shoes on and show up.
More on Hashing,

Sunset in Denver

This week I turned a corner and got side-swiped. I didn’t realize I was approaching it, but I should have known, considering the circumstances. Walking at break-neck pace as I always do, the turn came at me out of nowhere. I blithely followed without knowing what was on the other side. And that is when things changed.

Kettle Bells with Kris P

Life on the other side had a different look. The lens through which I saw everything went from blurry to crystal clear. People and relationships seemed deeper and more colorful. Decisions leading up to that point seemed to finally make sense. It was if all things had been leading to this moment despite the fact I’d done everything in my power to ignore it.

I was in Denver and I was spending one last week with friends and co-workers before heading into Mexico. Every day I had meetings, lunches, even breakfasts with those I care most about. There was work, there was play, all in short intense 2 hour catch-up increments. Each event ended in a hug, a shrug, and a “not sure when I’ll see you again..”

Neil and Wendy

But underneath every encounter was the undeniable scent of change. And while I spoke in the same glib manner I always do, I began to see my friends and our interactions from a new perspective — almost as if I was on the outside looking in. And when I did, I saw for the first time that I was more than a bystander watching the theatre production of their lives, but an integral part of them, as they were of me.

Just What Was the Catalyst for This Shift?

It may have been the lunch I had with my good friend. An openly neurotic and brilliant writer who has taught me how to believe in my writing, he is now very sick. His prognosis is poor, his spirit is day-dependent but his smile was 100%. Our meeting was strangely open and honest about the ugly tumorous elephant in the room. Him: “I did not get out of bed for three days last week because I could not stop bawling.” Me: “I don’t get it.” Him: “Wendy, I’m dying. I’m fucking dying… NOW!” I gulped and it hit me hard but I let it roll off my back and I managed a half smile. Staring back at him I frowned and said, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. It’s not fair.” And I changed the topic.

Or it may have been the sunset happy hour I shared with my most respected work girlfriends, where I caught a glimpse of them laughing with one another, and I realized for the first time that these gals, who I helped introduce to one another, would be my friends in work and play for life. Here they were about to continue without me, yet I knew I could find my way back through any one of them and be at home again.

Heather, Laura, Wendy and Anke - BFF Work Friends

Or it may have been the moment that I introduced two of my best non-work girlfriends to one another in an attempt to help one’s daughter secure an internship at a prestigious research facility. I was giddy at the thought of their lives colliding and that I could be a driver of it all. It made me feel both powerful and connected to the people I love and respect most.

It Took a While to Sink in

As these moments passed, I motored through with my standard callus smile and shrug, without a single thought about what it all really meant. And it would have likely continued in that vein if I had not woken up on Monday morning, for the first time ever in my adult life, without an Outlook Calendar telling me what to do.

I was without a job. And without a resume prepared. And with a bank account that, for the first time ever, is about to start dwindling rather than growing. I felt so awkwardly naked, lost and unsure about where to turn. And yet I planned it all this way.

The truth is I have at least three potential clients in the pipeline. But there is no guarantee. No safety net. And really no plan. And this is blowing my mind.

Until today, I have lived my life in search of some illusive perfection, busily racing from one thing to the next. I have meticulously planned this trip to escape the confines of the normal and embrace the new. And yet when the change stared me in the face, I felt turned upside down at the thought of not knowing what it will all bring.

I have always said this trip is an experiment in life. I follow all of the traveler’s blogs and have watched with great interest how they change their lives. I have aspired to be like them despite the fact that my place in life is very atypical –I’m not retired, and I’m not just starting out. I left smack dab in the middle of a fairly successful and passionate work life.

And while I am not afraid of much, today I admit that the fear is creeping in. Not of Mexico, not of drug runners, but of finally having to look in the mirror. To throw it all out there with nothing left to fall back on. And maybe, just maybe, to discover I’ve been running in the wrong direction all along.

We are born, we live, and we die. What happens to us in between is up to us. I feel so blessed to have so many awesome people in my life who bring me joy. Perhaps I’ve not seen it this whole time. But I see it now. And I’m glad to know that no matter what happens in the days to come, there are people looking out for me who will accept me back when we are done. And I’m glad to be awake, despite the angst it may bring.

Jim Gets it Stuck Before We Even Leave!

The Sahara or Atacama Desert (South America) is not the place to test out your vehicle’s performance four-wheeling in the sand.  It’s best to do this somewhere where local authorities are ready and waiting with their recovery gear to extract you should you do something stupid, where Ford parts are readily available and where you can speak the language fluently.

That was the purpose of today’s excursion at Southern California’s Imperial Sand Dunes playground at Glamis. To be clear, Glamis is not some nickname for “glamorous,” because it ain’t.  Unless you like sand in your teeth. But I digress.

Located 100 or so miles east of San Diego,  Glamis is a haven for 4-wheel and desert driving, frequented by dirt and sand lovers from around a tri-state area (California, AZ and of course… Mexico).  People come for the weekend, or for the season so we’ve been told, park their rigs and git their four wheel freak on. With 160,000 acres of deep, hot and sometimes dangerous sand, it’s a motorhead’s paradise.

In all likelihood, the real danger people face out here is from themselves. Forgetting to drink enough water, not being able to read their GPS or abandoning their vehicle to “walk out” after getting lost and confused seem to be the main causes of death. The heat rises frequently to over 100 degrees but on this March day it was a very pleasant 78.

 The Sandy 4-Wheel Drive 

Our plan was to take the beast out for a 20 mile sand drive, along a fairly well-trodden path from the trail head at Glamis toward Yuma and Hwy 8.  Along the way, we hoped to encounter some slopes, pits, sand hills and opportunities to get ourselves stuck – then unstuck.

Imperial Sand Dunes at Glamis

Glamis Sand Dunes / Imperial Sand Dunes Park

The most important thing we needed to do to prepare for the windy, sandy trek (besides stalking our fridge) was to let the air out of the tires. Jim took the Continentals down from the standard 70 and 90 psi to 25 and 40 (front and back).

We got ourselves some maps and consulted some of the local folk on the best way to go, and the chicken exits along the way. We also adhered the GoPro Hero2 to the front bumper so everyone could come along for the ride.

The Outcome

As you can see from the video, the truck rode very smoothly for the most part. We cruised at approx. 12 mph the whole way. Jim got gutsier as we went along, moving from the flats to hills and eventually to driving atop the hills, straddling them with wheels on either side.

The truck had a tendency to slide its back wheels the downhill slope when it had the chance, but we were able to pull it back out with a little extra pressure on the gas pedal.

$40 entrance or $25 if in town

Sand Dunes Action

One more item ticked off the list. From here we’re headed into AZ for some last stops with friends and the team at Bullet Proof Diesel, then into Mexico in a week or so.

Orange welcomes us with open arms

Yes, I know everyone is tired of hearing of our delays, as if our lives are some FOX-TV series and season one is just not making the ratings.   But I have to admit, that being in the OC for an entire quarter has actually been pretty cool.  The consistently 76 degrees perfect weather, the time we’ve spent with friends and family and the opportunity to just get our $hit done without the confines of our daily “normal” lives on our backs has made it all worthwhile.

But as we close in on the three month mark staying at my sister Sandy and Dimitry’s house, we know it is time to depart from what we’re jokingly calling “Hotel California.”

The final catalysts giving us The Amityville Horror-esque “Get Out!” messages this week were these three gems:

• Jim got officially booted from his parking lot where he goes to fix up the truck – yes its an abandoned lot but it IS someone’s abandoned lot and they evidently tired of him blaring NPR and displaying his tools daily like a garage sale.
  

  The not-so-sexy lot where Jim gets truck work done.

• Jim also backed the truck into a parked 2011 Honda Civic, costing us $750 for a busted tail light. Ouch!
• And today Jim (again) narrowly escaped a $100 parking ticket from the weekly street sweeper.  Only his charm got him out of it.

To spur me along in getting ready, Jim put the pressure on to finish our IT / computer setup.  I’ve since updated software on both computers, our phones are starting to ring with forwarded numbers, and Amazon has stopped its daily deliveries of crap we don’t need.   Even Neva is getting antsy.

So as we pack it up, here is a little reflection on what we have accomplished in 90 days besides enjoying the comfort of home without actually having to pay for it:

Truck Mods

In Jim’s last blog, he goes into great detail about the items he’s modified or updated.  But suffice it to say he has spent every day working on something related to the truck –  finishing a project he started in Colorado, modifying something he realized he could not live with after we moved into the truck, or adding a new part.  In addition to rotating the tires (see video), the motorcycle rack and spare tire lift is complete and he’s adjusted the gas pedal to his  liking. Plus much, much more listed here.

Truck Signage

GRT Vehicle is ready with a world map, logos and sponsor stickers.

We adhered a giant world map and our logo along the sides of the truck, along with sponsor logos. This change has made us much more of a spectacle, which has both its benefits and downsides. We now get emails and Twitter posts from people who just saw us driving down the street.  Kinda cool.

Fung Shui Inside the Truck 

We added more storage shelves and reorganized our clothing and bathroom. We switched out our plates and dishes for lighter plastic ones.  And we also secured a wine and scotch compartment complete with tie downs so we’re not relegated to boxed wine all the time.  And I repacked for the summer set up (more flip flops, less fleece).

Wendy multi-tasks at her "office anywhere" location

Technology Fixes

I painstakingly rebuilt our newly crashed ASUS computer, added a second one (Sony Vaio) to the mix and then networked them all together.  I implemented a backup strategy, moved our email to Google Apps from Outlook, finalized international calling plans with Google Voice and Nymgo as a SIP option, jail broke and unlocked our phones then ported our old numbers over so we don’t miss a call.  Jim began texting for the first time ever. ALERT THE MEDIA! 

Put Major Paperwork Behind Us

We filed taxes for three businesses, paid all Jim’s medical bills from the kidney stone issue, and hit the buy button on international health insurance plan (IMG Global Gold – and a whole set of blogs is comingon this topic) after months of painful travel health plan evaluation.

Not to be overlooked was the fact that in the last three months I also kept working pretty much full time, earning us another six months of living expenses to keep us on the road longer –Yay! But I think we spent four months’ of it just being here, so I’m not sure how it’ll all come out in the wash.

Speaking of Wash… Here is What’s Really Important

Dimitry and Sandy, our gracious SoCal hosts.

Probably the most important thing we did in California was spend some quality time with my sister Sandy and Dimitry, newlyweds who were gracious enough to allow us to stay with them and mooch off their Internet, laundry facilities and Netflix subscription for three whole months.

It was an absolute ball getting to know them better, sharing some new inside jokes and belly laughing almost daily. I can only hope they won’t be cursing us and reading this with gritted teeth after we leave.

So now, with our loose ends finally tied up, and our money starting to run dry from the high price of just being here, we’re ready to put the wheels back on the road. Mexico beckons.  Time to take this adventure further and hopefully bring more stories to share.

Until then, hasta luego. 

Jim thinking about truck improvements

Many people just buy a car or truck, hop in, fill it with gas and drive it.  Maybe even drive it south into Mexico, and eventually all the way to Ushuaia.  But not me. That’s just not my style, although sometimes I wish it was.  I’ve got to mess with it.  It’s in my blood. And even though I’d spent the better part of a year fixing up the expedition vehicle to drive into Mexico and around the world, it wasn’t really complete to my satisfaction when we left Colorado in December.

So with a few weeks at my disposal, I’ve taken the advantage of the mild Southern California weather, an abandoned lot, and the services of some new local friends and even my Colorado mechanic Diesel Dave (who I flew in for a few days of R&R “Jim style”) to get it all done. Here are just a few of the accomplished from the last couple months:

Installed Front ARB Differential Airlocker

Changing from a limited slip differential to a full locking differential on the front truck axle locks the front axle, and hopefully reduces our chances of getting stuck in the mud, sand and rocks. This was a full two day job mechanic Diesel Dave helped me accomplish in our not-so- hidden illegal parking lot. Ultimately it would have been cheaper to pay someone else to do this, but I now have the knowledge and at a minimum I can tell supervise if it ever needs work again.

The truck on blocks	The wheel - exposed
Front Continental tires, 40"	The Ring Gear Differential
Placing the differential spreader	The Differential Spreader in Place

Upgraded the King Shocks

Dave and I took a visit to the King Shocks factory  (I even got a tour!) and picked up some spare parts as well as bought an upgrade for my shocks based on the recommendation from the King team.  At King’s recommendation I also added more limiting straps on the front axle to limit its travel and reduce any potential of damage to the shocks. Side note – I knew poor Dave was feeling ill when he refused the King Shocks tour – sorry to run you so ragged Dave!

Multiple Welding Jobs

One of my new California pals is Roy, a Colorado transplant welder, has been invaluable in tidying up loose welding jobs including fixing the motorcycle lift and spare tire lift winch, as well as making some custom parts for the truck.

• The spare tire lift worked initially, but when I added the custom motorcycle rack to the back, it had the unfortunate side effect of screwing it up.  Diesel Dave and I designed a work-around and Roy helped me make the new hardware, add new anchor points and put it all together.  Now the spare tire lifts to the side where it won’t interfere with the motorcycle.
• We also adjusted the roof access ladder to double as a motorcycle ramp, allowing me to ditch the redundant ladder I’d been lugging around.   Now the ladder has three purposes – roof access, bike access and “access prevention” against would-be thieves from entering the camper from the cab during over-seas shipping.
• Roy also made a number of custom bits for me to attach and install things to– such as a custom bracket for our remote controlled spotlight (Go Lite Brand) we call the Cyclopes, some toolbox anchors and motorcycle rack tie-downs.

Repairs – Yes Already Repairs! 

Thank goodness we were in warm weather because all diesel systems went out and it got kind of cold in here one night. A little investigation showed the fuel lines for the diesel heater and stove had a bad check valve that needed repaired. I took care of it.

Installed New Parts

Maybe I’ve gone overboard here but I suspect we’ll need our recovery gear and deep four-wheeling items we’re lugging along.  To make life easy when we do, I added a rear wireless winch controller to pull out of tough spots in reverse.  I also added a mounting system for a second hydraulic jack.  I then redistributed our weight by putting an exterior toolbox across the front bumper, taking it off the back.  And finally, I installed some water separators into the onboard air system in the truck to prevent water from going into the tires or tools.

Wilson Cell Phone Booster

Technology Enablement

Wendy can’t live long without her WI-FI so I’ve researched the best options for enhancing coverage on the go. I installed a Wilson cell phone booster that will give us multi-band cell phone coverage, as well as a Wi-Fi booster from Island Time PC for better phone / internet connection.

Cosmetic / Convenience Items

Here are some smaller projects that have kept me busy and will hopefully make our lives a little easier in the future:

• Added a rain gutter around the camper door to stop water from coming inside
• Installed a motorcycle carrying rack on the back fender of the Honda 250 (thanks el Jefe)
• Installed an outdoor table mounting system to secure our Snow Peak table and chairs for exterior seating.
• I moved the GPS and added a second one in the truck cab.
• I added sunshades for the windows – after shopping for a variety of custom ones, I ended up just cutting some homemade ones out of some reflective material I bought at Camping World for 1/8^th the cost.
• And I modified the motorcycle rack to add more tie downs and make the bike ride on the truck more securely.

Inside the truck, I met Wendy’s interior design  demands – changing out the paper towel holder, fixing the trash can, organizing the bathroom storage and moving the coffee pot.

Creative wine storage inside the RV

Phew!  This list makes me tired just reading it.  Now that we’re close to done, look for us to pack it up soon.  Really. We mean it this time.

Lucy knows she is guilty.

I’ve never been one for fancy lingerie, mainly because the cost-per-wear ratio never seemed worth the investment. Practical to the core,  I’ve always believed that Victoria’s “Secret” was that she paid waaaay too much for her underthings.

But when it came time to select the critical few under garments for my global road trip, I wasn’t afraid to pay a premium for the right stuff. The way I see it, IF you can only take 6 pair of underwear, they’d better be the BEST, most durable ones you can find, right?

So for the last year I was on the hunt.  I found a favorite bra and bought it in three colors.  I found moisture wicking, spandex/poly blend running socks and stretchy woolen knee-highs for  warm and cold climate hikes.  And when it came to underwear, I went on a pilgrimage in search of… the perfect travel panty.

The Search for the Perfect Travel Panty

While variety may be the spice of life, consistency rules the day when it comes to travel panties.  You want something that is invisible under clothes, provides full coverage without being grandmotherly, has quality elastic and stitching, and most critical…. doesn’t ride up when you move.  Personally, I cringe at the thought of having to extract my wares from my behind every time I jump out of the truck.

My exhaustive search brought me to the ExOfficio Give-n-Go String Bikinis.  The company tagline is something like, “six months, eight countries and one pair of underwear!”  Whatever. I cannot condone that sort of activity.  Although at $17 a pair, I could understand if one pair is all you could afford.

Here we are naively enjoying dinner while things were going DOWN at home.

Believe it, sister.  Because that is EXACTLY what happened to me.  Yes, while I was naively out tonight gorging on queso and cheap tequila at a local Mexican eatery, a mild mannered, cherubic-faced, Gatsby-white, panty-chomping bitch named Lucy was verrrry busy back at the ranch.

Lucy has been a VERY bad girl.

Lucy is my sister’s sweet little white dog who enjoys snuggling on your lap by day. But evidently she is the Tazmanian Devil of panty raids when the lights are out!  My bedroom door left ajar, Lucy allegedly (allegedly my ASS!) strutted right past Neva’s guard, into my hamper, and delicately plucked no fewer than three pair of my pricey little travel panties from beneath, leaving everything else around it untouched.  With the precious cargo clenched between her jaws, she then devoured each pair like a werewolf on a full moon.

We came home to the crotchless panty aftermath with Lucy basking on the sofa, satiated from the kill.  I took inventory. I’d  dropped to 50% panty capacity. And with just a week before we abandon our last US mail stop? I needed to get busy.  But this story has a happy ending.  Amazon is having a sale and there are still a few pairs left, and they’re just my size…  SMALL.