BsAs Week 3 Pics

Mate Revealed

While in BA we’ve had the honor of partaking in a Mate experience.  Drinking mate is part of Argentine culture and all ages and classes of people carry the ritual out daily.  Walking the streets of BA it’s hard to go more than a few minutes without spotting a gourd (mate cup) being shared with friends, family, or co-workers in the park, on the street, in their vehicles, or at the workplace. 

Gt and Leticia preparing the mate

Our Spanish teacher invited us to partake in this elaborate ritual in the park outside the National library and she was very explicit about the rules.  Yerba mate is a dry, chopped leaf of the llexparaguayensis, the common holly.  It is served from one cup called a gourd.  The yerba is placed in the bottom and hot, but not boiling, water fills the gourd.  Without stirring, the gourd is passed counterclockwise where the person is to sip the entire contents of the cup through a bombilla (straw).

When finished the gourd is passed back to the cebador (server) who refills it and hands it to the next person.  When you’ve had enough you simply say ‘Gracias’ and the gourd will not be passed to you again.Our ritual lasted only 15’ but I think Argentines can sit for hours laughing, talking, and drinking.  

Felices Fiestas!

Hola,

Este ano es muy diferente de otros anos.  Despues de nueve anos en Bermudes nosotros salimos en julio. 

Primero visitamos nuestra familia y amigos en Nova Scotia por un mes.  Mientras en Nova Scotia nos gustan las comidas de mi abuela.  Andamos nuestras bicicletas por toda la provincia.  Corremos muchos kilometros, y nadamos en el lago de Tio Ricardo.

School’s out for summer

Today was our last of 15 Spanish lessons with our enthusiastic teacher Leticia.   Leticia has been prepared, punctual, and patience.  Eager to learn about Canada and our customs and quick to share her passion for Buenos Aires and Argentina.

We were not presented with report cards, but certainly can grade parts of our performance and reflect on lessons learned. 

Getting with the schedule

From our experience to date the porteno schedule looks like this:  Hit the ground running between 7 and 9am.  Be as productive as possible in those early hours.  Our 8am run is often spent dodging wet tiles, bleary - eyed cab drivers, and far too much Dog ‘kaka’.  At least if you step in it its good luck.  So we are told…

Oh no! The E - Card

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Best of BsAs Week 2

Wednesday 7 am...

The music started.  Reminiscent of the Grinch,  it started off low and started to grow.  I slowly opened one eye, then the next, fumbling for my watch to check the time.  While finally locating it on the floor – I’ve never been accused of keeping my side of the bed too neat – it confirmed what the growing light in the bedroom had suggested.  It was 6:56 in the morning and a Porteno fiesta was starting outside our balcony.

An afternoon well wasted and spent at Polo

Well neither of us can say that Polo topped our list of ‘to do’ here in BsAs but we had a great time, once the game began.

Hustles in bustling San Telmo

The Sunday market in San Telmo was on our to do list.  After an early morning run on nearly deserted streets – a shock after the calamity of the previous day's walk – we continued to explore on our way to the market only to find that the shops, like the people were taking the day off.  Dee’s carefully planned café stop was closed, as were the next two ‘plan Bs’.  Where had everybody gone…

Arriving at the market helped solve part the equation.  Within the first hour of opening the place was mobbed and would require careful maneuvering to negotiate.   We heard English in abundance, a sure sign we had found a tourist spot.  Apparently a popular Thanksgiving destination if you don’t fancy Turkey and Ham with the family in the USA…

Road Rules

Hitting the streets of BA is certainly the best way to get up close and personal with this seemingly immense city.  It’s vitally important that one understands their place as a pedestrian in this vehicle mad city.  Stop lights –when there is one – are mere suggestions - while stop signs of which we’ve seen few are decorative street art rather than traffic controls.  Crosswalks are treated with similar contempt so we’ve made a concerted effort to triple check – in both direction despite all streets are one – way – before crossing the street.  Thankfully our years of defensive driving and riding practice in Bermuda is being put to the test.

Writer's block - check out the slideshows

Learning Spanish is killing the blogging.  Promise that there will be muchos soon!  In the meanwhile whet your appetite with the updated photos of BsAs Week 2

Where have we been?

Apologizes to loyal blog followers.  We been both a little busy, a little unfocussed and mostly little lazy with the blog entries.  But we are back!

So what have been up to the last 4 weeks:

-       Decompressing in Las Vegas and getting spoiled under the watchful eye of Don and Ellen.  Getting our final bike rides in as the beloved Cervelo’s get the winter off.

-       Travel to Buenos Aires to begin the South American leg of el Sabatico.  Walking tours of the city, Spanish lessons begin, and schedules reset.

-       Visit the spectacle of Iguazu Falls.  Celebrate GT’s birthday at one of the world’s wonders.

-       Continue la turista theme at the isolated Ibera Wetlands. 

-       Return to Buenos Aires where we spend the next 4 weeks with continued emphasis in trying to get Garth something other than “I am” at the start of each sentence – I am lasagna, I am beer, I am hotel, I am bus…

Off the grid in (Si)Ibera - Nov 23-27

Another major attraction in Argentina’s North East in the Reserva Provincial Esteros Del Ibera – lets call that Ibera for short – a 13,000 sq km park that boasts some of the most diverse wildlife in South America.  350 species of birds, Capybara (the world’s largest rodent),  howler monkeys, deer, wolves, and the black caiman which I was most interested in seeing.

How to get to this isolated park proved to be a challenge.  Despite the extensive private bus system route knowledge only seemed to extend as far as the next town – maybe -.  Our choices seemed to be a 3-bus connection to the town of Carlos Pellegrini or a bus / 4x4 service that may or may not be running on the day we hoped.  Even the reliable Internet provided little help and admittedly our limited Spanish was not an asset – yet -.

We elected former and were somewhat impressed with both our ability to negotiate the numerous bus stations to make the connections. We elected a private vehicle for the final 120km, which was essentially driving across Manitoba on an unsealed farm road, complete with washouts from the previous days heavy rains. The private transport (all 7 of us stuff in a Ford Ranger 4x4) was part of a larger ‘all – inclusive’ park package hustled on us by an enthusiastic English speaking tourist information / tout. 

Arriving in the small town Carlos Pellegrini (pop 600) was stepping back in time.  Mud huts with thatched roofs interspersed between Posadas (small inns), and higher end Hosterias (full on resorts) yet all connected by dirt roads in an 8*8 block grids.  Roads running east / west won the road maintenance lottery while those North/South roads were essentially horse paths. 

Rush hour in C. Pellegrini

We welcomed the opportunity to stretch our legs after 16 hours of bus time and explored the town and park border.  After an ill-fated dinner we hit the sack in our slumping bed with a big day ahead. 

Visions of Nepal greeted us the next morning with a cold shower and a breakfast of café, stale white bread, and dulce – Someone please mail us some peanut butter! -.   Clearly we not hardened backpackers just yet!

We were here to see wildlife and our morning boat trip into the marsh accommodated that.  Within minutes we were staring at caiman, capybaras, and dozens of birds from an intimate distance.  Our (almost) English-speaking guide provided much insight into the ecosystem of the Esteros (marshland).

We were happy to not see what lied beneath the water.  Piranhas and Anacondas are reputed to inhabit the area. Keep your hands away from the agua!

Capybara - the world's largest rodent

Near the conclusion of the tour we quietly moved in to about 6 feet on this caiman. You could actually hear him breathing!  While looking quite docile our guide answered Dee’s question about aggression with ‘he’s a good guy’.  Almost on cue he lurched at the boat closing the distance to inches in the blink of an eye.

  The guide followed this with ‘Did I mention an American journalist was bit by a caiman here last week’, quickly producing a picture of a bloodied leg on his Blackberry (!).  In fairness to the caiman he was trying to catch it with his hands…  Apparently YouTube – Caiman, Ibera + CNN for details of the action…

Main trail?

An afternoon walking ‘safari’ – memories of 5 days lost in the Great Rift Valley on our honeymoon – gave an opportunity to watch three juvenile howler monkeys have a great play in trees under the watchful eye of their very large and mean looking father.  His growl filled the forest and we were mindful of his presence.

Juvenile Howler Monkeys at play

A horse-riding excursion with a real-life gaucho - do we sound like tourists yet? – along the borders of the marsh under a beautiful setting sun closed our day and provided additional bird-watching opportunities, something both of us surprisingly enjoyed.

We came across these four boys engrossed in game of futbol as the sun set to the West.  No shoes, no jerseys, and no net yet the joy in which they played was amazing.  Laughter, effort, and probably a little bit of trash talking was heartening to see.

We embraced the local food culture, forgoing attempted at healthy eating and embracing empanadas (meat filled pastry) and Sandwich Milanesas completo (steak, tomato, cheese, and egg).  It was a great day and well worth the time, effort, and discomfort experienced.    Tutto Letto (1^st class) back to Buenos Aires after a day in the gaucho town of Mercedes and getting caught up on writing and Spanish.  Hasta Luego!

Falling For the Falls

We’ve been accused of not varying our adjectives enough in our blog entries.  While ‘stunning’ is an effective descriptor, we’ve been encouraged to branch out a little more.  Today’s visit to Iguazu Falls provided numerous opportunities to do that.

The falls lie on the Rio Iguazu, which borders Argentina and Brazil, some 40 minutes by public bus from the tourist hub of Puerto Iguazu.  After the luxurious comfort of ‘Tutto Letto’ yesterday the 'bone shaker' welcomed us back to reality. 

The park is situated in the middle of a rainforest teeming with colors.  Countless plants, flowers and wildlife inhabit the park with the latter being completely tamed to the tourist milling about.  Such is often the case with parks throughout the world that encourage large scale tourist activity.

As the park is accessible only on foot – plus a small train to cart us to Garganta Diablo – the entrance was more like a zoo than park.  Numerous restaurants, curios, and a large visitor centre filled the first 800m, all connected by a well manicured clay blocks walking path. 

Dee and I of course yearned to ditch the crowds – which were steady on this national holiday Monday – and dove for the lower route which hooked around the back of the park before emerging at this jaw-dropping view.  

Followed by this one….

We were frozen in our tracks for several minutes, pausing from the view occasionally to shake our heads in collective amazement.  The sounds were incredible as we slowly wound our way to closer to the water.   Camera shots were being fired quicker than arrows at Custer’s Last Stand afraid we might miss the view.  No fear of that.

A total of 275 waterfalls throughout the park serve to add to its majesty.   As one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the Earth we arrived with high expectations and it was quickly raising its own high bar.

We made a very short boat ride to Isla San Martin, which is centered between the two major falls, allowing us to get intimate with both the falls and a very large Iguana.

The rainforest setting made it quickly outdistance its Niagara Falls rival.  The numerous walkways, while a bit conflicted for  a ‘Natural’ wonder did assure that people viewed respectfully while getting an intimate view from numerous vantage points. 

Our final walk of the day – about 20k all told – brought us to the ‘Garganta del Diablo’ (Devil’s Throat) and the thundering cascade of water was deafening.   From here you could fully appreciate the power and wonder of falls as they dropped some 80m to river below.

Star struck, we quietly trekked back along the park somewhat snowed under by the effort and sensory overload.

We were unsure that night as to tomorrow’s plans.  A trip to neighboring Brazil to view the falls required a complicated VISA requirement so we elected to trek the trails missed and repeat favorite highlights.

The sky was clear and sun was hot when we arrived and we thankfully hiked under the canopy along the Macuco trail.  Numerous monkeys, Coati (large rat-like creature), and butterflies entertained us to and fro with the trail ending at the spectacular (thud!) Salto Arrechea falls where we cooled our feet and admired the view. 

The day’s clearer skies and increased river volume from the recent rain – re my birthday – changed the falls significantly.  Mesmerizing rainbows were in plentiful supply, framing most of the day’s pictures. 

Diablo was an even grander spectacle, which we enjoyed with quieter crowds.  A lady beside Dee was brought to uncontrollable tears upon first sight, powerful stuff…

Birthday at the Feria

Happy Birthday Big Guy

With my birthday taking place on a full moon this year we decided to get to the falls to catch the ‘Full Moon’ tour the park offered.  Mother nature had other plans as we arrived to overcast skies.  With the afternoon to kill before the tour we ventured over to the ‘Feria’ – think farmer’s market with semi - permanent, covered stalls. 

Shortly after we arrived at the skies opened up and the rain fell with biblical – like fury.  I guess this would be lunch.  Finding suitable drinks and snacks was no problem and we lounged away the afternoon with the rain rattling off the corrugated tin roof. Lunch and drinks for the afternoon – 9$ -.

Holding little hope out for the tour we made an alternative reservation at what appeared to be one of the busier restaurants in the town that services the National Park.  At the very least the open pit BBQ looked good.  

Man - BBQ!

We settled in, enjoying the vibe of a Spanish musical trio. After a minute the trio’s leader stood, pointed in our direction while a small cake a candle headed our way.  How did they know it was GT’s big day?  They didn’t, passing it off at the next table followed by an enthusiastic rendition of  ‘Feliz Cumpleanos’  (Happy Birthday).   Well, this type of coincidence doesn’t happen often so I hopped over to wish my fellow Scorpio well.  We had more than a few laughs and took the obligatory picture followed by a shot of tequila – Ahhy!-

At the end of our meal the restaurant and band repeated the cake / song performance for me. 

As I was tucking into the first bite of cake a gentleman who had just been seated at the accompanying table came over to tell us that it was his birthday too.  Well, the cheers – and shots – continued from there.  What are the odds of that?

Bottoms up for the Scorpio Birthday Boys

Caminamos Buenos Aires - November 17 – 20

You'll notice the occasional Spanish words and phrases will drift into the entries.  This is only an attempt by the author to recall some of the language he is learning - slowly!  Very, very, very slowly... 

And have we put on the miles!   After a lengthy transfer from EZE to our friend Rachel’s hacienda in Palermo it was café time!  We felt fortunate to have a BA insider to greet us as Rachel has been in the city three months since leaving Bermuda.  Sadly, it was her last day here so we decided to take the city tour so she could give us the inside scoop. 

BA is a city of some 3 million, which swells to 13 including the outlying neighborhoods, referred to as ‘barrios’.  Rachel began the tour by enforcing pedestrian survival skills.  Cars never slow at intersections; sometimes slow / stop at stop signs, and crosswalks are only to keep city painters employed.  Finally, owners are under no obligation by law or conscious to pick up their dog's droppings.  Walker beware. With that bit of knowledge in hand we hit the pavement. 

Japanese Gardens, Barrio Norte

Palermo is considered one of the trendy neighborhoods; numerous shop, cafes, restaurants, and outdoor patios dot the tree-lined streets (Calles).  We stopped for lunch at one such patio catching up on Rachel’s past three months living as a ‘porteno’ (BA Resident). 

Almurezo time in Palermo

With an afternoon of touring we were ready for a siesta and Rachel was kind enough to indulge us.  Snoring in record time we got caught up on some lost hours from the travel days.

We arrived for early seating – at 10pm - at Sudestead, Rachel’s favorite neighborhood restaurant.  The Asian fusion menu was fresh, spicy, and exciting as was the conversation.  We made a short tour of some other local favorites before settling on a classy little wine bar where sampled numerous offerings and gave Rachel a final ‘cheers’.  

We hit the bed @ 3am full and tired…

Rachel escorted us to the ‘Subte’ Subway the next morning with us off to the barrio of Montserrat where we had accommodation for the next 2 days.  The low ceilings, doorways, and warm temperatures below ground were a little disconcerting but we passed our first ‘backpacking’ test with little more than sore upper body muscles weakened by 2 months of cycling.

With more errands to run we hit the streets, now somewhat empty with it being siesta.  Our route crossed the enormous Ave 25 de Mayo, which took us two traffic lights to traverse.  After a visit to a travel agent to make final plans for the weekend we wandered down Florida St.. Open only to pedestrians it was a sea of humanity on a sunny, sweltering Wednesday.  Shopping is the name of the game here with all the usual players.  Even a Starbucks to appease the ex-cycling tourists.

We settled on an almurezo (snack) at the historic Café Los Angelitos, a stones throw from the government buildings followed by an ill-fated attempt to siesta.  Sleep first, café second!

Cafe Los Angelitos

Friday began relatively early as we had a Spanish lesson!  Both nervous and excited we wandered to the quaint neighborhood of San Telmo were we met Leticia who would help us get a started on the basics while providing a tour of this historic cobble stoned area. 

While Dee is a star student already, I am still a ‘work in progress’, reminded of my struggles in grade 7 French class.  At least I provided comic humor – “ I AM Lasagna!”

Too tall for midget tango!

We saw the city’s smallest door (to a tango bar), the narrowest house, and dozens of Parillas (steak houses) in our three hours.  The late afternoon was spent getting the proper order to the siesta / café before enjoying a late night dinner and trying to put some sentences together in Spanish.

 Obelisk @ Ave 9 Julio

We have rented an apartment for our return to BA at the end of the month and used the late morning on Saturday to do a walk by and see the barrio up close.  We hustled down to posh Recoleta where we met Leticia for our second lesson. 

Our walk included having to ask for directions – ‘De Donde es?’ and grocery shopping for a chocolate cake recipe.  I am sure the poor victims who had to hear me butcher their language has some entertaining evening conversation –

“I… am – no need… dulce thank you having chocolate… flour, now…” 

Back to the hotel to gather the bags,  we caught Subte to the enormous Retiro bus station, boarding the overnight bus to the Iguazu Falls in the country’s northeast corner.

Buenos Aires Bound

Our cab arrived @ 4:30am; a record early start for us.  It was strange to slide by the strip at this hour.  Not surprising there was both a lot of foot and car traffic and Dee wondered aloud if it should really take the title of ‘The City that doesn’t sleep’ as she thought even New York might shut one eye on a Tuesday morning.  In November. 

After the usual formalities of airport travel; line up here, body search there, we crashed into our emergency seats - score! – and were fast asleep shortly after take off.  Touching down in Miami @ 1pm, we had the afternoon to explore Miami Beach.  We strolled the impressive Lincoln Ave, stopping for a customary top up of caffeine and to people watch. 

Tourist Shirt Alert!

To say that ‘anything goes’ for fashion could be both an understatement and affront to the local fashion sense.  A myriad of color combinations, and styles greeted us on each corner.  The fedora, mini skirt, boller tie, and pink dress jacket are all in vogue and not at all out of place.  However, we were disappointed to not see an Iguana on the lead…

Rolling out onto the beach the overcast sky afforded pleasant temperatures for a mid – afternoon saunter.  The water temperature was sublime and tempted us to take a dip, but we were content wander along with the waves hitting us in the legs. 

Home away from home at the beach

We took in Ocean Boulevard in the fading light of the day with its beautiful Art Deco Hotels and restaurants that pour onto the street.  It was a pleasant afternoon that could have been easily stretched into an evening so intoxicating is South Beach.  However, we had a plane to catch.

Our 11-hour flight to BA would be on a new Boeing 777 plane.  Complete with all the amenities – other than adequate legroom for Dee, let alone me – it is a remarkable aircraft.  With room for 300 people and their baggage –so much the pilot even made mention -  I was amazed at how quickly and efficiently the attendants and ground crew could get us ready for travel. 

It was clear English speakers would be in the minority from here on out and despite the preparation all I could hear was chatter;  – no different from Peppermint Patty’s teacher in the Peanuts cartoons – I’d better get used to it…

We both managed a very good sleep despite the cramped quarters and I awoke to a sliver of daylight poking through the window blind.  Excited I pulled it down to see; Saskatchewan… Those readers who have not had the pleasure of flying or driving across Canada’s (or for that matter the U.S.) grain belt it is a really beauty to behold.  The various crops create a misaligned checkerboard pattern from above spanning as far as the eye can see.  On a completely clear day the trained eye can identify the crops by color.  In Argentina this is referred to as the Pampas – The breadbasket that feeds their nation and much of South America I have read.  This includes the grassland the supports their rumored excellent beef industry which I hope to confirm shortly.

The Two Faces of Sin City - November 5-16, 2010

We had a great 10 days in Las Vegas.  While most visitors jam as much as they can into their 3day/4night air/hotel package we’ve been able to view the city as the locals do enjoying the homey yet luxurious setting of our friends’ Don and Ellen’s estancia (ranch) in a well manicured community 20’ from the bright lights of the strip.

Admittedly, we were more than a little tired after a 3000k jaunt down the coast.  Perhaps a little ambitious given it was stacked on top of our Ironman and training, not to mention moving country.  Our first days were spent ‘decompressing’, content to let the mornings and afternoons drift away while we enjoyed quiet conversation with friends during an exciting period in their lives as well.  It also gave Don an excuse to test his newest recipes at the bar.

With Ellen in the final weeks of preparation for her own Ironman race, it provided us with the opportunity to enjoy a few final bike rides in the beautiful Red Rock Canyon area northwest of Las Vegas.  You could count on the constant headwind combined with clear skies to greet us each morning.  The Cervelos, now freed from the shackles of the Bob and panniers were free to spin the miles away with each day’s destination being nowhere in particular.

We tackled the Turtle Mountain Hike one cool weekday morning. While it was a repeat of a hike we had completed on an earlier visit it was no less breath taking with beautiful views of the colorful Red Rock Canyon and the skyline of the Strip in the distance.  

Ellen, now a local cycling veteran, guided us on numerous new routes throughout the week, which nevertheless saw us climb and descend 4000’ ft, most rides.  We reveled in the chance to let bikes speed down the long, sweeping roads with fresh pavement and a wide shoulder.

Bright Lights, Big City

Arriving on Las Vegas Boulevard in the fading light of a November afternoon is a sight to behold.  The colorful and enthusiastic lights awaken from their daytime slumber in an attempt to prematurely luminate the night. 

We met our cycling friends Phil and Liz under the majestic chandelier at the Bellagio Hotel to tour the Strip with them on Wednesday.   Happy to make their acquaintance again we slowly meandered through the Casinos of one hotel to the next seamlessly connected by a series of overhead walkways and escalators. 

As always the Forum shops are impressive, both for shopping and their ostentatious design.  Phil and I were both politely complemented on our height – he has me bested by a couple of inches - while in the same sentence warning us to not be too clumsy in an antiquity shop.  We were tempted but both decided that a 6-foot porcelain giraffe would not fit well in a backpack or pannier.  A shame really as it, like the rest of the store was 75% off…

Our wandering landed us at the Parasol Down lounge at the Wynn Hotel.  An impressive outdoor bar with an equally entertaining  light and water show every 20 minutes.  We toasted to our cycling prowess over the past two months and to our journeys ahead.

Crossing Europe in a 30minute stretch we strolled in the Venetian, complete with its own gondolas, canals and endless blue skies.  Strolling over the Rialto Bridge brought us to Paris with its distinctive Eiffel tower.  While I have never seen France’s own version, Dee, Phil, and Liz assured me it was an excellent replica, minus the restaurant banner hanging off its side, plus the Casino at its base…

After dining at Gabi Mon Ami we traveled down to the other end of the strip to Mandalay Bay where after much deliberation and fighting crowds of autograph seeker – no for us but for the stars of the Latino Grammys being held in the hotel that night -  we decided to try our hand at lady luck.  Phil and Liz broke even at Roulette while the Blackjack table happily took my cash despite my protests.   Dee was thankful we were returning to bed far from the strip lest I might try to recoup my losses and jeopardize the retirement fund…

We also coaxed Don and Ellen out to the Stratosphere on our next to last night.  After escaping the tack of the casino floor we were jettisoned up to Bar 107, towering 900' above the Strip.  It is an amazing view and even impressed our expert Donald.  After the tourist tour we went to a local hangout for some sliders and pizza. 

High above Vegas at the Stratosphere

 Dee finally found a suitable chair.

And now for something completely different…

We had decided early in the planning that a ride from LA to Las Vegas was out of the question, but the question remained, how do we get there.  My initial dream was to ride the BoB right into Union Station in downtown Los Angeles and catch the train.  However its terminus in Barstow eliminated that option. 

Bus service was also prohibitive and expensive in addition to the chore of disassembling and packing bikes.  Fittingly the cheapest choice in this car crazy land was a one-way rental.  This would also afford the opportunity to visit Death Valley at a time other than the blazing summer months when temperatures regularly cross North of 120F (50C)

No one likes a car road trip like the two of us and we set off with California Map in hand to find this isolated valley in the east-central part of the state that plummets to -300ft at its lowest point. 

After skillfully negotiating the LA freeway system we headed north through cities you’ve never heard of – Palmdale, Lancaster (pop 150,000).  Bedroom communities dotting the mountainous desert terrain.  California’s road system is amazing as we whizzed down state and municipal roads that our own Trans-Canada Highway couldn’t hold a candle to. 

We drove through Mojave and a huge airport that appeared to double as a used jetliner lot.  At this point Dee remarked that our morning’s drive had been the equivalent of a week’s worth on the bike.  We laughed as we took shot the surroundings from the window @ 70 miles and hour just as we had seen others do during our cycling trip.

Happier times at the Jerky stand

Garth survived a bee attack at the beef jerky stand in the tiny town of Oncola.  Far from a joke, some innocent camera clicking angered the neighboring beehive that sought to launch an attack.  I had hide out in the small, ramshackle store for a few minutes, swatting bees and pulling stingers out to the 90-year-old shop-owner’s amusement.  “You must have sweet blood.” was his only comment as he looked up from his paper.

We entered the Valley with a 6000-foot descent with the temperature raising some 22F to 96F – In November! -.  We walked the vast sand dunes in the Northern end of the valley.  Sand accumulated from erosion on the neighboring mountains is trapped in the valley below forming miles of vast dunes along the roadside. 

We rode the six-mile Artist’s Drive at sunset, stopping often to admire the views and colors as the light and temperatures faded.  As always America’s National Parks are accessible and well kept.

Dee at the Artist's Palette, Death Valley NP

The scorching hot temperature meant we could camp under the stars for the first time on the trip and we treated to a clear, star-lit sky.  The Big Dipper, Orion’s Belt, and Seven Sisters were clearly visible and we wished we had paid more attention in astronomy class.

Sunrise at Furnace Creek, Death Valley NP