13 Hour Tour...

Hello there!

Our day began at 3:00 am today! Since the young'uns in the surf camp had brought the party home with them, we were pretty much awake when our alarm sounded at 2:45. We joined another American and 2 Austrians for a trek up one of the volcanoes that showcased a ginormous crater. We hired a driver and completed the 1.5 hour drive without incident. There were a lot of stray doggies in the road but they were scared by a quick flicker of the high beams. Daisy & Hazel don't know how good they have it! We arrived at the parking lot at about 4:30 and had to negotiate for our guides up the mountain. That was interesting. Due to the fact that we had five trekkers, we had to take 2 guides. For 600,000 rupiahs (about $60 - more than we thought!) we were directed up the mountain, we got water bottles and they prepared our breakfast at the top. We didn't dilly dally b/c we had to get to the top of the 2,700+ jaunt before the sunrise. The climb was about 5km and it gained most of the altitude in just that - 5km. Let's just say that there weren't may switchbacks to give the legs a rest. But, since we were climbing in the dark, it was too early for our brains to register what our bodies were up to, we survived the hike with ease. When we arrived at the top, it was terribly windy and quite a bit chillier than I anticipated. But, we arrived just in time to view the magenta rising sun just over Lombok Island. We could also see Mt. Arung - the tallest mountain on the island.
Peter and I joined our guide, Gdae, to another viewpoint that offered an even more astounding view of the countryside. This was the Bali we'd been wishing for since our hotel is in the most touristy and VERY busy part of this country. It was gorgeous. The sun was rising and the moon was setting. I will try to upload pictures soon.
The guides prepared us banana sandwiches and eggs in the steam that is still coming from the earth on the dormant volcanoes. Very delicious. The guides also told us that sometimes you can see wild monkeys on the trek. Unfortunately, we didn't see any. I'm bound and determined to see some on this trip!
After going back to the driver, we pressed on to the Mother Temple. It was a scene to try to get 5 non-Hindus into the temple. We had to rent sarongs -- in which Peter really did look SO WRONG! - for 5,000Rp (50 cents) and we had to buy tickets to enter the temple. There is a main temple that is dedicated to Shiva and two others on either side that are dedicated to the other gods of the Hindu Trinity. The temples were built in 8th century and 12th century. They have tall looking buildings that are stacks of pagodas (the pictures would help here) that have the levels according to odd numbers. Like the fewest you can have is 3 and 5, 7 etc...Additionally, there are temples for the Gods and then some for Families. They also had a temple that all people who believed in some kind of God could enter. Otherwise, only the Hindu people could go into the temples. But, we got a respectful view from the gates. The architecture was stunning. Most of the gates, steps and buildings were made of volcanic rock while others were made of soapstone. They were so intricately carved. There are temples for each caste of society - there are 4 that seem to exist only by tradition. The priests are the highest, then the royalty, then the business owners, then the farmers/workers. Each caste had their own temples on the Mother Temple property. I've never seen anything like it. It was really quite an education. It was so much older than anything I've seen.

After the Mother Temple, we traveled back to the surf camp via Sanur Beach. The sand was white and the water was crazy blue. Kind of like a postcard. After a well deserved lunch and rest, we headed back to our hotel. It was well worth the 3 am start time. This day was the Bali we were looking forward to. We got to see lots of farmland, natural areas, and terraced fields.

One of our Austrian counterparts made a meaningful comment as we were sitting on the beach preparing to depart back to Seminyak (where we are staying), he said, "The world is like a book and if you don't travel, you only read one page."

Nice thought for the day...

More another time!

Bali!

Hello from Bali!

We've made it finally to this little island in the South Seas! It was one heck of a long trip, but, we've made it and we're no worse for the wear. The first flight to Taipei wasn't so bad as we were sleeping and super excited. But, the flight to Denpasar seemed to last forever. We were certainly ready to be off the airplane. As you can imagine. Our drive from the airport was eventful and required some white knuckling from Peter! I was safely unaware in the backseat of the millions of mopeds, motorcycles, bicycles that were weaving here and there. TONS of motorcycles. We were told by someone at the hotel that we could hire one if we wanted to drive one. He followed that up with a story about him getting run over by a motorcycle last week. Not a good sell. But, he didn't look too hurt. Interestingly, the majority of people wear helmets.

We love our swanky hotel - it is very cool. Nice pool and really friendly folks. The surfboards have been selected and hopefully we'll have enough energy to hit the waves in the a.m. We are in a bit of a fog right now. But, we went for a walk and stuck our toes in the Indian Ocean! How cool! Not much else to say at this point except that we're psyched to be here!

Write again soon!
Hope all is well with all of you!

Bon Voyage!

So, I should probably be at home helping to finish packing. But, since we cancelled our Internet, I'm at Dog River Coffee putting the finishing touches on our blog that I hope to update often from the road.

We're leaving on the 9:00pm flight to Seattle tonight. Our flight on China Airlines leaves for Taipei at 1:45am. It's going to be a long flight. I hope I have enough to keep me busy. We shall see.

I'm really excited and things still feel a little surreal. We are going to be visiting places that I've only seen on TV or in books. And who knows how much of that is accurate. I'm a little scared of the unknown. But, I think that's healthy. I think that I'll miss my friends and family. I do like to be in daily contact with them and it's going to be a lot more challenging to hear their sweet voices.

But, above all that I'm super excited about what this experience will mean for us if we're open to it. We know where we're going on the map, but, where will this journey take our hearts, souls, and minds? How will this adventure shape our relationship with one another and with the world? We don't know what the future holds but we have hope that it will bring continued peace, challenge, joy, learning and new beginnings.

When I write next, it will maybe be from Bali...
Bon voyage!

Thanks for reading.
Take good care!

Love,
Kerry & Peter

Hood Sweet Hood

We called Peter's sister, Katie, to let her know that two dirty people in a hippy van would be arriving so that she could notify the authorities to ease off. Thankfully, Peter's family welcomed us - dirt and all - with showers, yummy food, and good laughs.

Don't get us wrong, we LOVE Blanca. She kept us safe, cozy and moving for 4000 miles - and that was only for the 3 weeks we were gone. But, it's another thing when you can't go surfing all day and LEAVE the van. The four walls start to close in a little bit after a while. We were ready to trade her until next summer for our house in Hood River.

Even though we'd rather have been surfing in Baja, the trip north via the Eastern Sierras was gorgeous. It was really beautiful to see and to experience. We looked forward to getting home and preparing for the next leg of the "Honeymoon Tour!"

Bali...Australia...New Zealand!

Hot Tubbing in Mammoth

Before you arrive in the town of Mammoth Lakes, CA there are tons of hot springs that dot the land leading up to the mountain. We pulled up to one of the spots and there were about 8 folks enjoying the tub together. So, we decided to wait until the crowd thinned out a bit. We amused ourselves by watching Daisy & Hazel's first encounter with cows. It boiled down to a lot of barking, mooing, and laughing. The game rapidly morphed into making sure Daisy didn't roll in any sweet smelling manure. After the folks cleared out, Peter and I made our way down the boardwalk to the spring. There were two guys in the 8' by 12' tub when we arrived - sans clothes. Immediately, I felt as if we'd interrupted something. However, I was freezing in my bikini so we made our way in the pool and introduced ourselves. Rather than names, we exchanged hometowns. That made sense since I couldn't see them and I never would again.

Hood River meet

Flagstaff meet

Sacramento meet

Lake Tahoe meet

San Diego meet...

and so on...

Fair enough. Another guy arrived as we did with his dog, Marvin, a really big beer and an even bigger "cigarette." Soon after, another guy came with a smoke that rivaled the first if you can imagine. I didn't have trouble seeing these because of their sheer size, even in the dark! The conversation lulled after the introductions and the funny tobacco. So, Peter and I spent our time taking in the expansive stars. They were so bright and they were everywhere. I was bedazzled. As I checked out the sky to the south, I noticed that there were at least 12 blinking stars. The more I watched them, the less they moved. All I could think of was Area 54. Maybe this tract of the Eastern Sierras was the western branch of the UFO Superhighway? As I was considering this, Mr. Lake Tahoe remarked about the blinking lights also. Phew! I wasn't the only person with extraterrestrial thoughts! I believe that Mr. Sacramento a.k.a. Mr. I know it all quipped that this area was a flight path for many airlines. I wanted to believe him, so I did. Then, another duo of dudes arrived. When one guy in the tub - I think it was Mr. Flagstaff - greeted one of the guys as "Transylvania", I knew it was our time to vacate the premises. When Mr. Transylvania procured a small Heinken keg from his backpack and solicited "about two others" to help with it, my need to leave was soundly cemented. Peter and I slipped out and skedaddled back to Home Sweet Blanca.

We spent a few more days in Mammouth. It was fun seeing where Peter hung out and ski patrolled for a few winters. It is a neat town. We did some hikes with amazing scenery while we were there.

We pressed north. We saw Lake Tahoe - which is gorgeous, clear blue, and HUGE. Our last night in CA we spent in Lake Almovar (?). We noticed a huge cloud from the beach at this stop. It was a forest fire. I wondered if we were being chased by evil forces of Nature? What did we ever do to them? We were respectful and honored their strength and power. Oh well. We decided to head all the way to Portland the next day. We were sick of being in the van and we were ready to be home.

Final Leg to Flee the Storm

We began driving away from the Mosquito Beach at 6:00 am. I drove until 9:30 when Peter took over for a stint. Then, I took over for the rest of the day. Here's why: Peter got the stomach bug. He got it big time. There was no doubt he had it since when we approached the second checkpoint for the day, he vomited violently out the window right before we were going to get the once over by the federales. They acted as if they saw that kind of stuff all the time. From that point on, Peter did a fantastic job of co-piloting me through Mexico. I'm not the most confident stick shift driver on the planet, but, after this drive, I feel much better.

We made it to Tijuana and through the border without much consequence. We did get put in secondary to surrender the 2 avocados we'd forgotten to pitch. As soon as we crossed the border, Peter called for the nearest hotel. I knew he was feeling bad when that decision was made. I wasn't complaining. I was more than pleased to have a clean, soft bed and a HOT shower! Slowly, Peter felt better. He ate a little bit. It made me happy that he was out of the woods. The stomach bug is no fun. I had it last year and I was sure I was dying! I'd take 2 black eyes over that any day!

Tomorrow we're off to check out Peter's old stomping ground - Mammoth Lakes, CA!

Pining for Los Pinos

We were run out of San Juanico by Miss Henriette. Oh well. All of the NOAA images showed a direct hit. As we contemplated our options, it was clear that the smart thing to do was to leave. Peter was willing to chance it and he would have battened down the hatches if he were alone. But, since his blushing bride was rapidly losing her shit, he quickly began the packing frenzy. ;As it turns out, the storm lost steam and went west. San Juanico probably got some of the rain but that's about it. If we'd stayed, I'm sure the storm would have razed the town. So, I'm glad that we left but I'm still dreaming of nice, easy, magical longboard waves that I missed. Until next summer...

We drove away from the point at a high rate of speed under gorgeous blue skies littered with big, puffy clouds. It was hard to imagine that a storm was approaching. That's probably what everyone says right before they get smacked by a hurricane, "But it was such a beautiful day and then all of a sudden I was drowning in my favorite easy chair!" Not to minimize the heartache that is caused by such horrible things, of course.

We drove from San Juanico to Guerrero Negro (600 km) in one day. When we arrived, we managed to be late enough to avoid the security checkpoint. This is a bonus because all they do is ask you for fifty bucks and send you on your way. We went into town in search of some food and a hotel - we were tired. After learning that the first place we stopped at was full, we carried along on the main drag. Shortly after rejoining the traffic, the lights in the entire town went out. This caused an all out retreat on our parts. We remembered a swanky hotel near the roundabout between N/S Baja. I couldn't see much in the lobby to tell me it was fancy, but, the sign in the lobby said it was $85 per night. That was fancy. We were paying $9 to camp at the point. The gentleman at the concierge desk told us we'd earn a 20 percent discount because there was no electricity. I was sold. I could feel my body responding to the fanciness. I wanted a soft bed, running water, maybe a warmish shower. I didn't care there wasn't any electricity. Alas, we opted for another night in Hotel (or maybe Motel?) Blanca. We learned there was an RV park right around back. As soon as we fired up the car to find our camp spot, the lights came back on. Now, I could really see the swank I was missing.

When we entered the "office" for the completely empty RV park, the nice folks who were running it seemed startled. It was as if they'd forgotten that the large lot behind their home was advertised from the road as a campground. They told us not to bother paying for our spot until morning because they didn't have any water. I missed the connection, but, whatever. I was tired. Thankfully, for 20 pesos Peter & I got beer and went off to park the van. It looked as if it was the off season for the RV park - the WAY off season. It looked as if the high season was about 20 years ago. Regardless, Peter & I cracked our beers, let the dogs run a bit and ruminated about the stars. They were gorgeous from our tiny cement slab by the van. the Milky Way was so bright. We finished our beers and packed it in. I made peace with our destination and thanked the higher order for keeping us safe.

The peace offering was immediately eradicated by a few things. First, we were bone tired. We just wanted to bound off into lala land and recharge for tomorrow. But, the mosquito family - extended family - had other ideas for our night. The only way I could keep from being eaten alive was to huddle under the blanket and leave only my nose sticking out to breathe. This made me hot and uncomfortable, but, at least I wouldn't have any bug bites. Soon after I'd figured out how to avoid bites, the yippiest dog in the nation started his nightly program. His voice should have quit after a few minutes. I didn't know dogs could bark that much. He kept on keeping on. Sometimes, when the stars were aligned, the sound of buzzing mingled with the barking. It WAS NOT music to our ears. At some point - I'm assuming close to morning - the dog took a break and a bugle was sounding. No kidding. I think I might have slept for about 5 minutes altogether. How restful.

Needless to say, we left at first light to get the hell out of hell. As we pulled out, Peter agreed that we should have paid Senor Los Pinos $85 PLUS 20 percent!!

Hurricane Henriette

The photo shows dawn at San Juanico, Baja Sur. Who would expect a hurricane?

Flexibility and patience are two habits I try to instill in my students each year. These two skills come in handy throughout life. If you start practicing them when you are young, you'll be all-pro by the time you are my age. As we speak, I'm trying to be patient. I'm wondering if Mrs. MacHardy forgot these lessons in my first grade class at Rutland Town School. In traveling, as in life, unforeseen things arise. We should be willing to make adjustments, concessions and compromises. Especially when the all-powerful Mother Nature is at the helm. Like now, a hurricane is approaching the southwest coast of Baja, Mexico. Hurricane Henriette is heading our way. We think. They've posted maps in the cantina to keep us informed of the situation. Some folks say we'll get none of the weather and all of the swell. If we get the weather, the "sub, sub par" road back to the "mainish" road could be washed out. As far as I can tell, "hurricane potentially coming toward you" is a sure sign to me to get the hell out of the way! I'm positive Harmless Hurricane Henriette has no qualms about wiping this idyllic fishing village off the map. That frightens me. I appreciate being on the map. I'm looking forward to further voyages on this big map in the fall/spring. It became obvious that I'm the worrier in this relationship when we were discussing our options and I said "doesn't hurricane mean leave?" Peter grudgingly agreed. My worrying is an ancient Niedermeier trait that I've "luckily" inherited from my Dad. I appreciate his passing on of his athletic prowess much more than the worrying gene - especially since I'm married to the man who is NEVER worried.

As we wait, I'm nurturing my patience and flexibility until we have to decide what to do. I'm trying not to snap too much at Peter's relaxed outlook. Since surfing this afternoon, I've done approximately 30 NYT Crossword puzzles (I think I might have set a new speed record, I've got to call Will Shortz...), written a gadzillion pages, and I've even shaved my legs. Now that's patience and flexibility if I've ever exhibited it! If you're having trouble seeing it, try shaving your legs in the "sitting room" of a weathered VW bus with helpful tools such as a dog dish of lukewarm water, raspberry shaving cream, a sand-dulled razor and baby wipes. Got the image? Now I'm sure you agree that I learned something, somewhere along the line about patience and flexibility!

Blackeye

These next posts are fillers from our trip to Baja and Northern, CA. We didn't have access to Internet, so, I'm just typing them in now! Enjoy!

This morning - the 6th day of our time on this beautiful surf beach in Baja - I awoke with a black (it's more of a pinkish/magenta hue right now) eye. Peter looked at me kind of funny this morning when I hopped down from the "upstairs" of our VW bus Blanca. He told me to take a peek at my eye in the mirror. I handled the mirror gingerly as Blanca is over 20 years old and I saw my tough looking eye. It looked kind of like makeup. Peter agreed that it looked as if I swiped under my eye with lipstick. The eye was due to a small run-in with my board during the morning session yesterday. I fell quite ungracefully from my board and the gorgeous thing clocked me just under my left eye - close to my nose. It gave me a fright more than anything and it didn't take long for me to jump right back on the board. But, it is kind of funny to have a black eye. I haven't had one since I tripped over the threshold at my parent's house in Rutland.
After we took a few photos of the tough looking eye, we were out for another early morning session on the waves. I've finally have had some amazing sessions where I have practiced enough to read the perfect sized wave for me. I find the right spot and glide into place. It is such an amazing feeling. From my surfboard, I hover briskly above the water. I can see fish scattering above the sunlight sand on the bottom. The waves here - besides the one that caused the black eye - gently carry you a long way - in a way that most people haven't experienced. I feel lucky to come here because it offers physical and metaphorical vistas that you can't achieve anywhere else. It is a very special place - even though it's in the middle of nowhere and sometimes I could really go for a latte.

Another funny effect of the black eye is that Peter is getting the "eye" from people we see here. This afternoon as I was heading in to surf, a woman stared longer than is polite and asked me what happened. I told her it was all my surfboard's fault and she said the same thing had happened to her. Then, her wiry, stooped albeit sparkly side kick offered his services if I needed protection from someone. We all chuckled and went on. When I recounted the story to Peter, he laughed remembering the guy from surfing this morning. Peter thought that if I got that guy to protect me, I might get another black eye - let's just say he wasn't really bodyguard material. Visions of Mr. Goodbody seemed more fitting - Mr. Goodbody at 70 +!

Wedding Details...

We arrived back in Hood River, OR three days after our amazingly personal, special and gorgeous wedding. The wedding wasn't anything I'd planned since birth. I'd never visualized myself walking down the aisle in a frothy, white concoction. I climbed trees, dug holes, and terrorized my brother, Patrick. I like that our day resulted from mutual planning because that aspect made it more meaningful for us, our families, and our friends. All in all, the "contentious" items barely crossed the radar screen when the day came around. Most of this ease came from the fact that my Mom & Dad did some fancy, labor-intensive footwork in the months that lead up to August 18th.
We were married by my Dad at the head of an idyllic, red barn in rural Bristol, Vermont. The ceremony was personal and memorable. We were supposed to be married under a rustic, beautiful birch arch on the grounds of the Inn at Baldwin Creek. But, as they say, the best laid plans...
During the wee hours of our wedding morning, it rained torrentially for approximately two hours. We greeted a day that was overcast with a temperature that was stalled at a balmy 60 degrees. Not part of the script. And funny because Peter deliberately bought a suit that was appropriate for tropical conditions thinking of the sticky, humid Augusts we'd experienced in Vermont. With the skies threatening and Peter off for a hike with friends, I decided (thanks to careful cajoling from Minner, Mom, Linda (Inn Owner) and Gwen) to commit us to a good, old Vermont red barn hoedown, I mean wedding. I figured that was better than wading through the swamp that had magically appeared at the foot of birch arbor overnight! Although, I'm sure hip boots go great with wedding dresses!
As I mentioned, my father was the officiant at our ceremony. Our close family friend, Fr. Jim Walsh, S.J. supported us through the planning process since he had about 120+ weddings in his repertoire. Fr. Jim was slated to do a short blessing at the end of the ceremony. We successfully completed the practice run on Friday and everything seemed spot on!
At 3:50pm on the "big day", as my maidens were helping me achieve the "me but gussied up a little with some lipstick" look that I was going for, we got a call at the Inn. As the phone was brought in, I thought "Wow! The classical quartet sounds so elegant and beautiful." Fr. Jim was on the line. Strange, I thought, there wasn't any superstition that he couldn't see me before the ceremony, was there?! Why was he calling instead of just heading up the stairs? I never read the ENTIRE Emily Post tome, but, I didn't remember that advice. Fr. Jim was still at my folks house about 45 minutes from the event. Did he remember the ceremony started at 4:00? Fr. Jim asked if my Dad was going to pick him up like they'd set up the night before?
I think the answer was obvious. Dad was not.
Dad forgot.
Dad won his golf game handily this morning and then sped back to the Inn to attend to his officiant duties. Dad was high off his golf win and looking ahead to his next, quite large agenda item. Apparently, picking up Fr. Jim failed to make his mental "to-do" list today.
All worked out in the end. It gave us some fodder for further ribbing of my Dad and Fr. Jim gave a wonderful blessing prior to our wedding feast.
I know that our wedding day wasn't born from 30 odd years of dreaming , but, I couldn't be happier and feel more as if my dreams were answered. As Peter & I walked down the aisle as husband and wife, I felt so surrounded by love, joy, support, hope and the peace that comes with being married to your best friend.
We are so lucky and blessed. Thanks to all of you who were there on our day - in person and in spirit - we appreciate you and look forward making many more memories with you.

To check out photos from the wedding, go to http://www.davidseaver.com/ then you need to select the "Lake/Niedermeier Wedding" when it asks you for a password, enter niedermeier (all lowercase).
Caution: there are LOTS of amazing shots. It may take a few separate viewings to make it through or just pick and choose a few that look interesting in thumbnail form!

More soon...
K & P