When my friend Sarah came to visit a while back, we decided to have some fun with a yoga photo shoot.We researched some poses that might look visually interesting in tandem, and one of them was two yogis in wheel, each with one leg extended.We both liked the look of the pose, but when it came time to try it out, we both said the same thing, “I’m not sure I can do that.”
We got into place, first in wheel with our feet toward each other. We each took a deep breath and lifted one leg. It was difficult, and we both struggled, until our feet touched. Heel to heel and toe to toe, the pose became less of a struggle. We felt supported, and strengthened by the contact. We stayed in the pose much easier in tandem than we could have solo.
Finding community as adults can be a challenge. We often feel a little wobbly, reaching out, only to flounder for something solid. It may seem like forever, but before we fall, God steps in to put people in our lives who, at that moment, also have a limb extended. We lean in, meet in the middle, make contact and support one another. Heel to heel. Toe to toe. We press in, breathe deeply, and each journey becomes a little easier.
The next ride we are featuring in our Rides Around series is a VW bus that was spotted at a Couer d’Alene, Idaho coffee house.
It is amazing to me what these vehicles continue to represent. They have been the quintessential mode of transportation, and sometimes lodging, for the folks living on the fringe, or at least dabbling in the lifestyle since their creation. Their engine coughs in time to the beatniks’ groove, and the lines of their form takes the admirer to a different place in history.
My father owned one of these monsters, and I vividly remember being impressed by the functional space it had when set up as a camper. We had spent years tent camping before he invested in this piece of luxury equipment. He would perpetually endeavor to catch as many fish as he could, on any given weekend, at any freshwater spot within driving distance. The van allowed maximum fishing time, due to its easy set up, and was much more comfortable than tent living.
When we were van camping, I always felt a sense of the fringe. We weren’t living on it, but it could be seen from our camp. Like the bug trip down the Baja, the VW drew attention and sparked many encounters w/ fellow travelers.
These rigs are fabulous and continue to fill our minds w/ inspiration, start interesting conversations, and remind us of fishing trips w/ Dad.
The Rig: VW Bus
The Location: Lake City, Coeur’D Alene, Idaho
The Driver: a speculatively caffeinated modern day beatnik
The Special Circumstance: tripping down memory lane
On a recent trip to Canyonlands National Park, Druid Arch was rediscovered along with a poem by Robert Service.
This is a magnificent and awe-inspiring place. It is otherworldly and tickles a funny place in a wanderer’s heart, the same place Robert Service’s Rover plucks at…
– C.K.
The Rover by Robert Service
I
Oh, how good it is to be
Foot-loose and heart-free!
Just my dog and pipe and I, underneath the vast sky;
Trail to try and goal to win, white road and cool inn;
Fields to lure a lad afar, clear spring and still star;
Lilting feet that never tire, green dingle, fagot fire;
None to hurry, none to hold, heather hill and hushed fold;
Nature like a picture book, laughing leaf and bright brook;
Every day a jewel bright, set serenely in the night;
Every night a holy shrine, radiant for a day divine.
Weathered cheek and kindly eye, let the wanderer go by.
Woman-love and wistful heart, let the gipsy one depart.
For the farness and the road are his glory and his goad.
Oh, the lilt of youth and Spring! Eyes laugh and lips sing.
Yea, but it is good to be
Foot-loose and heart-free!
II
Yet how good it is to come
Home at last, home, home!
On the clover swings the bee, overhead’s the hale tree;
Sky of turquoise gleams through, yonder glints the lake’s blue.
In a hammock let’s swing, weary of wandering;
Tired of wild, uncertain lands, strange faces, faint hands.
Has the wondrous world gone cold? Am I growing old, old?
Grey and weary . . . let me dream, glide on the tranquil stream.
Oh, what joyous days I’ve had, full, fervid, gay, glad!
Yet there comes a subtile change, let the stripling rove, range.
From sweet roving comes sweet rest, after all, home’s best.
And if there’s a little bit of woman-love with it,
I will count my life content, God-blest and well spent. . . .
The second vehicle featured in our “Rides Around” series is a VW combie van with an interesting story and a fantastic paint job. I was at a little surf spot just southeast of Corpus Christi, Texas, when I spotted this creation pulled up on the sand.
Before paddling out, I introduced myself to the driver, a bit of a surfing icon, and the father of an exceptional woman who was passionate about making a change and actively doing so through her “social project “. It is called “Rekombinado” and can be read about here. It is an educational mission based out of the van, and takes place en route from Brazil to Northern California.
I spent a few minutes discussing the van, its travels, and function w/ the gentleman in the driver’s seat before paddling out.
During my session, I contemplated purpose and passion and priorities. I thought of how I choose to spend my time, and where I burn the most calories. It was a bit of a self check-up that I passed w/ some ideas for improvement.
As I was wading back in from my surf, and wrapping my leash up on the tail of my board, the combie was pulling off into the setting sun. It was undoubtedly headed out to continue its mission of education and love.
Funny how chance encounters can impact lives…
The Rig: VW Combie Van
The Location: Packery Channel, Texas
The Driver: a surfing icon named Joao
The Special Circumstances: an amazing encounter during a Tuesday after work surf session
Note: This is a recap of Day Nine of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico. You can catch up on day eight here.
The most surprising aspect of the ferry ride was the timing. We had given ourselves plenty of wiggle room, because we didn’t know if it would leave or arrive on time. It did both. We cruised into Mazatlan right before 9am, and everyone lined up in an orderly fashion to disembark. I joined the exit line, rushed back to return the borrowed movies and remote control, then joined the line again while Edgar went down below to fire up the bug.
I walked off the ramp and met Edgar in the parking lot, where he was holding our exhaust pipe. He’d lightly tapped a truck during the unloading process, and it was enough to cause the pipe to break off. Once again our jar of bungees came in handy, and we headed off toward Sayulita with the pipe carefully fixed to the roof rack, while keeping a careful eye out for a welding shop.
At lunch time we found a nice little place right on the water just south of San Blas, selling shrimp and cheese empanadas and the now standard coca lites. While we wrapped up the meal, we asked around about a nearby break called Stoners. No one at the restaurant knew what we were talking about, so we went off-roading again. We found some pretty beaches, but no swell.
We’d spent enough time in Nayarit to know where the swell is located there, so we got back on the pavement and headed in that direction. In La Cruz we spotted what looked like a welding shop, and quickly turned in. We used our spanish and a lot of demonstrative movements to explain the problem, and one of the workers said the magic words, “no problem”. He brought out the torch, and waved off Edgar’s suggestion of a helmet. A few moments and pesos later, the pipe was once again married to the bug.
We were close to home, but had enough light to check out one of the local breaks, so we took a quick peek. Burrows wasn’t too exciting, but the pizza joint nearby had a live band. They sounded good and so did a slice of pizza, so we settled in to enjoy both.
After dinner, it was time to go home. Casa Aves has the perfect spot for the bug right out front. We spent time unloading boards and supplies, and giving the green meanie a little dust-off as a welcome home.
The next day, we grabbed a ride to the airport, and a much faster trip home.
Miles traveled on day 9: 245
The story doesn’t end here; it’s just the closing of this chapter. Thanks to everyone for following along and enjoying the recaps with us. It was a great adventure and we enjoyed sharing it with you. We’d love to hear your feedback and/or questions. What surprised you about the journey? Is there anything we didn’t cover that you really want to know? Have you, or would you want to, make a similar trek? Would you have joined Fibber McGee for dinner, or adopted a Mexican street puppy? Share in the comments and let’s keep the conversation going.
We’ve received some great feedback on the “Baja Down the Baja” posts. Thank you all for your comments, and for coming back week after week for the next day’s adventures. We’re working on the final leg of it now, and have some great information and pictures to share with you this weekend.
The comments on the TSY page and the Facebook page have given us good insight. This community enjoys interesting vehicles, and particularly Volkswagens. This was also extremely evident during our trip, as people would honk and hoot and photograph the bug as they saw us roll by them on the highway. So we’ve decided to feature a different rig weekly, and would love some participation from the tribe.
I’ll go first, but if you see a cool ride, please snap a photo and tell us about it. If you have a special connection to your personal mode of transportation, we’re interested in that story too. Maybe it has a name. Maybe you remember your first car, your dad’s truck, the plane that dropped you in the Amazon, or that bike you always wanted and finally got. It’s great to see how folks get around, and hear the stories behind the ride.
The first rig we want to feature is the “love bug”. We found this flowery ride cruising the streets of Bucerias in Nayarit, Mexico. It appeared to be a daily driver for the man behind the wheel, who was not afraid of expressing himself.
The Rig: 1960 something Beattle
The Location: the main drag of Bucerias, Nayarit
The Driver: a sensitive stranger
The Special Circumstances: We were in a bug, when we spotted this bug, and appreciated it along with a guy driving behind it, who was also… in a bug. Random VW parade.
Note: This is a recap of Day Eight of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico. You can catch up on day seven here.
Ferry day! This was the most unpredictable part of the trip. When we made our plans, the driving part had some wiggle room, but was overall pretty clear. The ferry leg wasn’t, and we were excited to see what it would bring.
In the morning we walked to a coffee shop for delicious coffee and cookies. The girl at the register told the guest ahead of us she worked 14 hour days. She must have put all that time into her recipe for blonde brownies, because it knocked our socks off. We spent a few minutes happily sipping coffee, shaking our heads and saying things like just how good is this brownie…
Once properly sugared up, we got back on the road and headed to surf Cerritos. It was a family-filled beach with a lot of kids getting up on big foam boards wearing baggy rash guards and grins from ear to ear.
We rented two boards – an egg for Edgar and a pink foam long board for me. We headed right out, and I promptly got clobbered on the first wave and banished myself to white water. Edgar paddled out and got into some better waves. We were glad we had wet suits, because the water was still pretty chilly.
After the quick surf session we headed for Cabo, intending to surf there too, but traffic was building and we didn’t want to risk missing the ferry. We gave Cabo a glance and turned back toward La Paz, stopping for some pizza and coca lites. I thought the restroom signs were hilariously clear.
They really gotta go!
The ferry guys put us back in line to be inspected and weighed, so note to readers, the dry run is not necessary. We had the same guys at the inspection and weigh stations as we did the day prior; the only difference this time was a fee after we were weighed. That seemed a little suspect, and we made a few noises in that direction, but in the end we paid it and got in line to drive on the boat.
Only one person was allowed to be in the vehicle during the loading process, so we split up and Edgar drove the bug on board, while I filed in with the other walk-ons in the passenger line. We met back up at reception and got escorted to our room. Bunk beds, bathroom and a separate living room area. Pretty snazzy!
Dinner was being served on the upper deck, so even though we weren’t all that hungry, we went up to check it out. It was kinda like the dining area on a cruise ship, but buffet style. We had chicken, tortillas and banana pudding for dessert.
Back in our room, we tried to watch TV but couldn’t get it to work, so I checked at the desk to see if they offered movies for rent. They did, at no cost, and they had some in English! We floated across the sea of Cortez while watching the epic struggle to climb Everest, then turned in. Edgar says he slept like a baby, but I had a bit of a hard time with the rock of the boat, and doors nearby opening and closing.
Miles traveled on day eight: 250 by road and 260 by boat.
TSY is always looking for people who want to share their adventures, yoga practice or surf sessions with us. We ran across Kim’s photos and enjoy what she has to say about yoga’s benefits for the mind and body. If you want to see more gorgeous pictures, check out her teaching schedule or just find out how she feels about non-dairy ice cream, head on over to Kim’s site.
“Practicing self-love daily is the key to happiness and success; when you love yourself and your journey, you cannot fail.”
Note: This is a recap of Day Seven of our journey driving a ’68 bug from Sacramento, CA to Sayulita, Mexico. You can catch up on day six here.
Our search for coffee in La Paz took us to a shop just a block away from the hotel, with Shakespeare quotes on the wall. We enjoyed our flat white and mocha outside, next to the Sea of Cortez, and took a few moments to catch up on some work. Then it was time for the big event of the day: getting ferry tickets.
When we mapped out our trip, we knew we needed to catch a ferry ride from La Paz over to Mazatlan, and main land Mexico. We found some information online, but we weren’t 100% sure on the details. Did it only go to Mazatlan on weekdays? Was the Saturday trip just to Topolobampo? (Still need a pronouncer on that one but it’s fun to try!) How quickly would it fill up?
Finding the ferry dock wasn’t too tricky, and we asked the man directing traffic where we needed to go to get a ticket. He motioned to the building and parking lot. We parked, walked inside, and took a number for the ticket counter. The office was filled with what appeared to be local families, on their way to or back from vacation. I’m pretty sure we were the only Americans driving our ’68 bug across the country for kicks.
At our turn at the window, we learned we needed to be inspected and weighed first, before a ticket for the vehicle could be issued. We went back outside and got in line for that. The agent in our lane asked about our paperwork, which we had, and our VIN number, which we could not point out for him. I’m sure it’s on the car somewhere, but we had no idea where. After a few words of explanation, and absolutely no inspection, he waved us through to the scales.
The bug weighed in at around 1500 pounds. Back inside the building, we purchased two passenger and one vehicle ticket for the ferry the next day, and got instructions to show up two hours before departure.
Feeling confident about the next leg of the adventure, we headed off to celebrate with some waves at Todo Santos, which basically involved driving straight south to the Pacific side once again.
Lunch was on a nice patio in town, with two stray dogs snoozing nearby. Before we ate our meal, dessert arrived via a woman and her children, selling donuts for five pesos. We got two.
The key to burning off chocolate icing is paddling out, so we hit the surf shop in town to pick up a leash for one of our boards. The woman running the store was happy to sell us the leash, but cagey about the local breaks, clearly pretending not to know much about La Pastora, which we’d heard was amazing, and steering us more toward Cerritos. But we wouldn’t be detoured so easily, and double checked the online descriptions for La Pastora, which was rumored to be a good place to get barreled if you hit it on the right day. (To be clear, only one of us was looking for that sort of thing.)
The bug was a trooper and pressed on through all kinds of sand, brush and hills. Several times we spotted farms and fences, and surmised this might be La Pastora, only to walk down to a flat beach. Finally, around sunset, we saw an opening in the brush and turned off — there it was! The waves were once again no match for my skill level, so Edgar grabbed a few while I flowed on the beach.
Trust me, he’s out there.
When the sun went down, we headed to a hotel I had booked online, but when we got to the gate no one answered. There was a note and a giant bell to ring for the clerk. We gave it a couple pulls… nothing. Called the number…nothing. The neighbor came home and mentioned the desk kept “crazy hours” and that if we kept trying someone “might answer.” Rather than being stranded at dark in the street, we decided to press on into town and found the Maria Bonita. The young girls working the counter enjoyed some giggles at our Spanish, but they did have rooms available, and we had ourselves a place to rest. Dinner was sushi with a hot pepper Mexican twist…. an unexpected and tasty fushion!
Miles traveled on day seven: about 50 from La Paz to Todo Santos, plus a good amount of wandering in search of La Pastora.
On day eight: We watched the struggle to climb Everest while traveling through the night on the Sea of Cortez.
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