Jan

Road trip to

San Diego

“Are you excited?! How do you feel?!”, the obvious question asked after telling someone you are traveling for an extended period of time. And, the obvious answer, “OF COURSE!!! Wahhh!?!?!". How could you not be? Quiting your job with no prospects is a pleasurable experience I highly recommend. It leaves your boss quite confused and your older coworkers telling you they don’t think its a good idea. Reclaiming the best, most able bodied years of your short existence also seems like a good life decision in general. "We’ll work when we’re wrinkled”…why not, what else will we want to do then?

But in the first leg of our trip, taking the slow road out to cali, leaving our home behind — like a rocket ship about to blast off on a galactic adventure, "one for the record books!”, you’re excited to leave…but not before months of planning and calculating, underscored by a painstakingly slow crawl from the hanger to the launch pad — Are we stoked? Of course, but the anticipation…we’ve been counting down for months.

Its difficult to know what will happen, or how you will feel. Its difficult to be certain of anything in life actually, except that, someday, of course, it will all end. At a farewell dinner we confessed that our excitment may have been damped by our preparation. Our wise sage of a friend told us “this is a good thing. If you aren’t that excited it means you are ready to learn something”, we nodded. Hmm, yes. “and” he added, "it probably just means your life ain’t that bad. You’re going from good to great” now this we could strongly agree with.

As we emback on this journey we (I) don’t yet feel yolo, I (we) don’t yet feel LFG...I find myself content that we’ve been here before and more excited that we’ll be here again.

Alas, leaving your orbit is pretty cool. I’ve never been to Zion. We drove in in the dark and I was stunned in the morning light. I've never been to a larger, longer and more classic “no fall zone” than Angel’s landing. We had an extra permit and blessed another hiker with it. He said we we’re his angels. We appointed him an honorary “Ricky”. We’ve discovered more hot springs on this trip than you could imagine, dubbing it the “2024 Ricky’s US Hotsprings Tour” — we’ll make T-Shirts — and our camper, Sheila has done great. She’s kept us warm, kept us safe and cozy.

Only a few more feet to crawl to San Diego and then…our journey to the launch pad will be over. We will leave.

Feb

San Diego

Surf Camp

I’ve always wanted to be a surfer…and, unfortunately, after this year’s second annual San Diego Surf Camp… I still do. Despite stretching minimally, watching what felt like hours of instagram tutorials AND pulling up to the break in a new certified envious surf mobile (Shelia)...there was no dropping in, hang ten, or riding the clean stuff as I expected. Dan did pretty good though — was starting to get the hang of it, he said — consistently standing up and successfully riding across waves on the day we went without our surfing sherpa, Clint, in “fair to poor” conditions. The tide was going out and winds were blowing across which we had learned is not really what you want. It had begun to rain and now we were the only two in the water. Despite the lack of true cowabunga we both smiled a lot and had a nice talk which may be what surfing is really all about. Surfers, is this true? Either way, I’ll never forget it. The wet Lach boys, surfer dudes. Earning their fish tacos.

Much like my first trip to San Diego to visit Dan, some ten or twelve years ago, it pretty much rained the whole time. No worries, the burritos don’t care if it’s raining. Nor do the games and movie nights. Just ask em! But unlike my first trip, this was a historically wet time for San Diego as it would receive its typical year's worth of rain in a single day —shockingly, this amounts to about two inches, I believe— and so everyone was on high alert. I think a water spout was spotted in Coronado and a Navy Helicopter trajecically crashed off shore.

Sick of the rain, on what felt like our last day, Alyssa and I had to bail on our e-bike-up-the-coast plans and decided to take Sheila on a little jaunt instead. We got empanadas for breakfast again, perused the thrift store for first edition Catcher and the Rye, stopped at San Elijo camp grounds and jumped a lady's car. As we pet her rhodesian ridge back puppy she told us that she too was excited for our trip. We drove north past two giant concrete breasts on the coast and then exited at a nature refuge and looked for their endangered fairy shrimp that lived in the marshy pools some two hundred feet above the ocean’s eroding cliff. Turns out the breasts we saw were nuclear power plants / naval training base and now the barbed wire, cameras and deserted beach made more sense. Does it make sense that classified government buildings and nature sanctuaries are next to each other, or doesn’t it? I can’t tell.

On our way back we stopped at a beach look out in Encinitas that the jumper cable lady told us about. We backed in the camper and popped the top because the rain had finally stopped. We sat there for the rest of the afternoon —quite happy and content, like this is what we’ve been after— Alyssa beading earnings for Courtney, me writing this and learning Father and Son by Yusuf. It felt like our last day, looking out the windows of our little traveling refuge, that had bravely trekked from the mountains of Colorado to the corroding salty breeze of the pacific. We celebrate the golden hour at dusk back home and did the same here in Encinitas. We popped down the top as the sun began to set. I leaned against the back of the truck and held Alyssa infront of me, both of us, silently smiling at the clouds turning pastel orange and pink.

It wasn’t technically our last day in normalcy but it felt like a good time for goodbye.

Feb 9-16 Hawaii

Kailua, Oahu, and Friends

We sang “Mele Kalikimaka is the thing to say...” involuntarily and continuously as we descended into Oahu. We didn’t get much sleep the night before...instead, we stayed up late philosophizing about “traveling” and the recipe to a happy life. We came up with a few bullet points, just ask if you’re curious...but this morning, on our early flight, we were giddy, excited to be leaving the mainland. Our faces were pressed against the window looking for whales and hiding from the lady in the row behind us hacking up a lung. “Man! Smoking really does make it hard to breath” she joked, but no one laughed.

No whales were spotted; just sailboats and kite surfers, tankers and cargo ships, a beautiful turquoise coastline followed by a bustling suburbia with driveways and backyard pools. An american dream scene that eventually and gradually became lush and wild rising to an omnipresent mountaintop draped by a dormant volcanic peak. Taking it all in from the bird's eye view — that much life after so much open ocean nothingness — it was surreal. It felt like our own video game world below, like a level of Sims. However, once on the ground, O'ahu was still a bit difficult to comprehend. It had the quaint "house-on-the-hill / proximity to a modest metro" of Salt Lake, but the bougainvilleas and frangipani of St.John. Is this curated or natural? Is this beautiful or an abomination? Driving up to the mountains, away from the city, our confusion faded and was replaced with wonder, and when we exited the quite lengthy tunnel that separated the two sides of the island, and Kailua came into sight, our wonder was replaced by deep relaxation. The next few hours were our version of paradise; a thrift store stroll, iced coffee at Kalawan Market, a nap on the beach in the friendly afternoon sun, and a parking lot shower that overlooked it all.

In the final moments of daylight we decided to scamper up “pill box hike” , a short and steep trail to an old bunker that's now owned by sunset viewers and aspiring graffiti artists. Bouncing on our way up we passed a local guy who returned our smile and said “right on guys”. Sadly it started to rain so we giggled, turned around and scampered back down and went to go see some live music. Dancing and smiling on our way into the bar we caught the attention of the performer. He smiled and said “right on guys”... Dang, that's two right ons! I think the Rickys belong in Sims Hawaii :) After jamming for a few, we headed to ZB and Sarah’s 8th floor treehouse apartment. Unfortunately they weren’t there but all their charm and hospitality was. That night we were woken up at 2am by a drunk guy beating up a bicycle outside and then again at 4am by the roosters.

The next morning we did the Pill Box hike again —this time making it to the top— got iced coffee again and then went to visit Alyssa’s Dad’s cousins on the Evan’s side. They had a super bowl party to attend but they said make yourselves at home which we very much appreciated. Their beautiful house is in Lanikai and right on the water. If you walk straight out their backdoor you’ll be on the beach and then if you paddle straight off the beach into the ocean you’ll be at the Moke islands in about 10 minutes…so that's what we did. We hiked around the back side of the island and took a dip in the "Queen’s pool". We met a military guy that said he didn't like Hawaii all that much and that people weren’t nice —later Ned told us this was a case of “Rock Fever”, some people don’t make friends quick enough and then they realize they are on an island in the middle of the ocean, then freak out, and eventually go crazy. Unfortunately this young dud said he’s moving to CO...but you guessed it...the springs. On our hike back to our kayaks we both almost tripped over a group of monk seals asleep on the beach. Anne said seeing one was lucky let alone three! She used to race her outrigger canoe competitively out on these waters.

After the game, which we heard Usher stole with the halftime show, Anne heated up some leftovers for us all and we sat and drank a glass of wine or two filling in the gaps over the years. We heard about their 35years spent in Hawaii, how things have changed, how their kids loved it and how truly beautiful and unique living on this island really is. A paradise to say the least. And tomorrow our Paradise tour continued.

Feb 9-16 Hawaii

Road to Hana

& Central Maui

This time, flying over Maui, whales were spotted. A relative shit ton actually. First it was one, and we were sure it was a fluke, then another, then a mama and her baby, then the captain told us to check out the small cluster on the right...all together totaling about a dozen, big ole school buses with fins peacefully floating just below the surface. Even from the plane it was unbelievable.

A few weeks prior we had found out that by a complete and utter accident The Rickys had booked their trip to Maui during the peak of whale watching season. Apparently the humpback whales begin to trickle into Maui around pumpkin spice latte season, with a few breaches and pectoral slaps sighted on occasion and by December a bit more drift in for a Christmas in paradise, but by February its a full on whale watchers wet dream with some 15,000 humpbacks showing up for breeding and calving in the calm, tranquil waters of Maui. Like, close your eyes and point somewhere out in the ocean and there is a good chance a whale will be seen flying through the sky. And good news, thanks to protections over the years in Maui and worldwide these numbers are on the rise, about 6% per year. Hell yeah. Life changing experience for sure. Okay back to the story.

After the hustle and bustle of the big city in Kailua :) we had to slow things down, so sweet Lyss booked a proper road trip. We rented some gear from a nice guy named Mo, filled our cooler at the Whole Foods Ned built and then set out for our adventure, the Road to Hana. The Hana Highway is an iconic 64mile stretch of road that traverses some 600 turns, 52 bridges and countless waterfalls, ocean vistas, jungle treks and history a-plenty. Its slow going. The speed limit is 35mph and I’m not sure you could go much faster than that if you tried. A trip most people try to bang out in a day we had three, so instead of fighting for parking at the crowded lots, we stopped at our own small pull-offs and danced to our own ukulele music, watching whales breach off in the distance.

By late afternoon we reached Wai’anapanapa State Park, a must see attraction known for its black sands beaches, lava cliff caves and the lime green succulents (Scaveola Taccada) that crawl over it all, the colors violently contrasting like a ketchup stain on a fresh white polo —to me the leaves smelled exactly like OTC Flonase, but to Alyssa...well, she couldn’t smell a damn thing. Unfortunately, since this morning her nose had been clogging and body been aching and now we believed that the lady behind us on the plane to Oahu was carrying more than a smoker's cough — For most, Wai’anapapa marks your turn around point on the road to Hana, but lucky for us Alyssa scored a highly sought after campsite. We pitched our tent and then watched the sunset from a beach cliff bench with a young deaf couple. We signed and asked if they saw any whales yet. They ecstatically replied “YES!” and we smiled, replied “beautiful” in ASL and thought of sweet Lola. They left us when the sun left the horizon and Lyss came over to sit on my lap. She put her feet up on the railing and we both leaned back looking up, watching the dusk turn dark, teasing out stars, as if the very act of looking for them inspired them to appear. I squeezed her tight and we kept watching, hearing the waves crash against the cavernous lava cliffs below…here, at a place where legend says an old chief infamously murdered his wife seeking refuge in the caves…I was loving on mine.

Lyss was feeling a bit better the next morning, but we had traded places and now I was dragging. We got our first gas station spam musubi and drove a bit further to the O’Heao Gulch and the Pipiwai Trail to Waimoku Falls. It was all uphill, with no swimming due to flash flood potential, and just as we reached the bamboo forests the DayQuil was kicking in. The Falls were tall, about 400 feet, but we couldn’t get close due to their general danger but also because of their sacred nature. Most of the waterfalls or swimming holes in Maui were like this, sacred, with signs saying “Locals only! Tourists Keep Out! Unless Invited!” backed by local ordinance codes. We didn’t mind of course, respecting not only local wishes but anything sacred. Infact, it all added to the foreign feeling. I feel like theres not many sacred places in America and if there are, they’ve already been covered with graffiti and key-carved names in hearts…Ohhhhhh….wait...I see…

At lunch we heard about a beach that may or may not be for locals only. We decided to roll the dice and on the hike we got the eye from a local looking dude but in the end he just told us “be careful, the trail's unstable, but have fun”. His warning was worthwhile, the eroding cliff trail had completely fallen off in some places and the gravel was like ball bearings. This drastic erosion may be what makes Red Sand Beach so special and secluded. Truly a unique sight, a tiny 100yrd crimson red beach that transitions to black sand in the calm water and then 25yrds out from the shore is a 10ft high lava wall that cuts off the entire beach from the roaring ocean behind it, creating a completely tranquil bay. It was just us and a young couple with their toddler splashing in the shallows. It was a perfect natural kiddie pool. That’ll be us someday, we thought.

After our soak we threw on the sarongs and hoofed it back to Maui city and our last campsite. We stopped at a frenzied pull off and joined some enthusiastic watchers cheering on a group of breaching whales. They were headed in the direction of our camp so we decided to jump back in the car and head em off. We arrived just before sunset, grabbed our chairs, grabbed a beer and ran to the beach to watch. The final breach we saw was close and massive, the silhouette of the 45ton, 60ft long, sea mammal fully horizontal, 15ft out of the water is forever burned on the backs of my eyeballs. That night I was delirious with the airplane lady cold. It was terrible. Gasping for air I was like a whale breaching from the sea of my own snot. What can you do...

The next morning was our time. We were going on a whale watching tour, properly...on the SUPER-RAFT. Some say its not worth it in February when you can see them so easily from shore, but we say, shut the hell up. We had an hour to kill and stopped at the only place we could find lunch to go, Dina’s Sand Witch Shop. It was a cute hole in the wall bar and closer to breakfast than lunch time it was quiet inside. We sat at the bar and a sweet yet gristly grandma type —Dina #1 lets call her— took our order, two turkey clubs to go. “Oh, boy. Okay” she said, flustered “Well, it may be awhile. There's a few people ahead of you”. We said that's fine, we got time. Then we looked around and laughed…Alyssa and I were probably about the 5th and 6th person in the joint. What does she mean “awhile"? What people? Then we scanned down the bar and noticed another couple looking grumpily and lost off into the distance with “waiting for a to-go order” written all over their faded faces…Jeez, I wonder how long they’ve been waiting. Did they skip breakfast?

So we settled in, making small talk with Dina 1 and taking in the place. It was decorated in the “dollar bill” style, with thousands of bills stamped to the walls and ceilings, all personally stylized with marker, pen, stickers and notes like artifacts from wilder times. 20 minutes passed, 30, 50...and we began deliriously laughing at our predicament...all the while, Dina 1 making small talk with a sun leathered local “have you seen bobby lately?” and more people would stagger in, zombie crawl to their seat and then stare blankly, hopelessly, awaiting their sandwich. “There’s some orders ahead of you '' Dina 1 would say, and then Dina 2 —the cook and other relic from the wilder times— would eventually come shuffling out from the kitchen with a sandwich belonging to a lucky soul whose ticket has finally been pulled. Our hour was running out but more concerningly it felt that so was our youth. We gotta get the hell out of here we laughed in comically, panickedly. Finally we did get our sandwich “Thanks for waiting” Dina 2 said. Is she blind? We staggered to our feet and fraily pushed open the door. The sunlight instantly pumped youth back into our veins. What the hell just happened? I think that was purgatory. For real!

Somehow we shook off the strangeness of all that and found our way to the super raft. If you didn’t know it, the crew could have been a group of white water river guides. All stoke, some safety, but mostly stoke and corny jokes. Some nasty weather started to roll in and the whale watching we were charging out for seemed to dry up “I hope you guys are enjoying this, because we still have another hour and a half” the captain said. We all made the most of one whale “tail sailing” —floating upside down with her tail out of the water, using it like a sail to move her through the water— “This is a very rare behaviour” the onboard biologist / 20-something-year-old hawaiian bro said “and any swifty fans out there? because we nicknamed this one Taylor, the sailor"…trying to keep our interest as we enviously watched another boat receive a bountiful breaching show off their bow…lucky.

The next hour passed much like this, watching Taylor and other whales off in the distance…but then just as we were going to turn it around we received our own crescendo. A mere 30 yards from the boat a breaching frenzy began. It appeared to be three mothers with three babies. First mama would breach, gigantically and magnificently, and then baby, hilariously and adorably. This happened over and over again and we cheered them on involuntarily. This behaviour, like mother like daughter, supports one of the main theories for why whales breach; fun exercise. After the calves are born they have a few weeks to fatten up on mother’s milk before making the 6,000 mile journey to Alaska. They’ll need all the strength they can get for this journey and breaching probably has to be the funnest way to strengthen up your youth.

We flew back to Honolulu to spend the night at ZB’s one more time. On the way we told our uber driver about the whales, and he said "oh yeah" he knew this, “you wanna see something? Watch this” he said. He stuck out his hand, started breathing heavy and goose bumps popped up on his arm “thats mana” the spiritual healing energy of Hawaii. We are facebook friends now and he invited us to hang out with him and his cousins. He smelled a little like weed and Alyssa and I don’t doubt spiritual energies. ZB and Sarah were up when we got home and they fed us soup, carrot healing energy, and we talked alone for the first time...kind of ever. Those two sure are great, good ole natural vibes, more of that please. The next morning we got some breakfast and wished we had more time together. ZB told us how much they were enjoying Hawaii and finding their community. He also then confirmed what I'd heard about 2027. Hawaii, we see you. You have beautiful, natural, spiritual land. A rich and complex history, and I'd say, strangely a very critical and confusing role in world peace. Woah...Aloha.