Uganda here we come (03/17/2026)

The couple was aimlessly wandering through the departure halls of Zanventem, the international airport of Brussels in Belgium. He was 24 and she was 22. It was February 1978 and they were filled with apprehension. They had met two years earlier and got married 7 months ago and now they were going to the man’s first full-time job as farm manager at a leprosy center in Uganda. It was 10 o’clock in the evening. They were taking a Sabena (the Belgium National Airline) flight to Nairobi, Kenya and from there to Entebbe, Uganda. Into the unknown.

At the time of their move, Uganda was ruled by the ruthless dictator Idi Amin who had given himself the title "His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular." He was known for the deportation of all Asians in the country and a brutal murderer of anyone who opposed him. Moreover, flying to Entebbe meant they were going to the airport that was famous for the hostage crises and Israeli raid of 1976. Everybody they knew told them that they were crazy and that they were going to be in severe danger by going there. The couple kept telling themselves that leprosy would repel anyone that could threaten their lives; people were afraid of that biblical disease called leprosy, or so they thought. Now these two were not religious, they went for humanistic reasons and for adventure. Little did they know what would happen in the next year and a half.

The two had arrived in Brussels in the morning by train from Rotterdam. They deposited their luggage at the hotel from where the Sabena shuttle to the airport would leave that evening. Having time to spare, it was time to do some sightseeing: the Great Market and Manneken Pis, have a last Trappist beer and a nice dinner. After that, they sat in the hotel lobby waiting for the shuttle to the airport.

Their flight left Brussels around midnight. They were flying over the Sahara when the sun came up. It was one of the most beautiful sights they had ever witnessed in their young lives; parts of the mountains and dunes illuminated by the orange light of the rising sun, while the opposing sides of hills were still in the dark.

They never exited the plane in Nairobi, but they could feel the warm tropical air rushing into the cabin when the doors opened to let passengers off and allow new ones to come on board. Th majority of the embarking folks were Africans and so, the ethnic makeup of the passengers changed dramatically. Reality hit, they suddenly realized that they were no longer in Europe but were entering dark Africa.

The landing into Entebbe gave them some beautiful views of Lake Victoria and their first Ugandan villages down below. Once landed the plane taxied to the terminal where they were greeted by a huge banner with the face of that ruthless Ugandan dictator, Idi Amin Dada, the conqueror of the British Empire. The banner was draped from the roof of the arrival building and reached all the way to the ground. Now in 2026 the couple is being reminded of that sight by similar banners with the picture of the current U.S. president that are draped of buildings. Let’s not talk about Amin’s massive deportation drive of folks that had migrated into Uganda and did not look like him. Nothing new under the sun.

Once they cleared customs, the couple was met by Pieter, the Dutch doctor and medical superintendent of the leprosy center, and Steve, the Ugandan anesthesiologist. Later they learned that Steve was a wheeler dealer for the hospital, he knew which buttons to push, who to bribe and even had sex with him. But so did the sworn bachelor Pieter, neither gentleman had ever heard of sexual harassment and avoiding sexual relationships with underlings. But after all, this was Africa and late 1970s.

Naturally, that couple were my wife and I. As you know, my writing is a collection of autobiographical sketches, environmental essays, and political commentary. Hope you enjoyed this one and it gives you an insight into my brain and who I have become over the years. Feel free to browse the keyword list for the word Uganda; there is so much more, and more to come.

Manneken Pis

The conqueror of the British Empire

The Colorado Plateau (5/2/2024)

If you are somewhat of a regular, you know I always have a few books open, and yes I need to update my reading list on this blog. Currently, I am reading Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey. While this is a required reading as I describe <here>, I am getting a lot of enjoyment out of it. Abbey is a radical; he was on the FBI watch list, and I just read that he wanted to grind up all the domestic dogs into hamburger and feed it to the coyotes. He was hoping that this might change the tune of coyotes and make them more pleasurable to listen to. I have heard many coyotes in the Chihuahua of southern New Mexico during the field work that I was doing for my Ph.D. On top of that we have seen and heard them in the woods behind our home here in suburban Virginia. I dare to differ with Abbey in that I actually enjoy their shenanigans and howling.

Abbey's description of the landscape in the Moab area hits me in the guts. I spent time in the area in 1980 and 1981 to do field work for my Masters. His description of the landscape is amazing: the Henry Mountains, Dead Horse Mesa, the La Sal mountains, the towns of Hanksville, Blanding and Moab, the Bear’s Ears, and of course Arches National Park. My research plots of the time were in the Henry Mountains, near Fry Canyon, in the mountains near Monticello (between Blanding and Moab), and near Green River. 

I realize now that I might as well have spent time on some of the mines Abbey wrote about but were abandoned when I spent time there in 1980. Abbey wrote about uranium prospecting in his book, and I was working on the results of all that work.  As I am sure, a lot of you are aware of, uranium was used to generate energy and for more sinister reasons such as blowing up things and killing millions with one small bomb.  Southeastern Utah and the Moab area is littered with mine shafts dug into the cliff sides and piles of waste materials that were dumped below those holes. These dump sites were bare, and we were doing research on the revegetation of these piles. 

 My research involved the revegetation of uranium mine-spoils. Uranium and its mining features heavily in Desert Solitaire. In the 1940s, 50s and 60s uranium was in huge demand; areas in Ontario Canada and in the Canyon lands had some the largest deposits of that mineral in North America.  At the time Blanding had a uranium enrichment plant.  I also worked on a site of another uranium enrichment plant in the Red Desert of Wyoming, just north of Green River, UT and Rawlings, WY.  That plant had a large herd of wild horses nearby and it was always fun watching them gallop through the area.   

One of my favorite experiences was my work near Fry Canyon. The canyon was aptly named, it was scorching hot in July. My thermometer read 110 degrees. It had the typical desert vegetation of juniper, salt bush, galleta grass, Indian rice grass and I remember seeing mallows, sunflowers and cacti. We had our two dogs with us and during the day they slept under the truck I was driving. We had to drive up a dirt road in the canyon and arrived at my plot after maybe a half hour to forty-five minutes off-road driving. Camping there was fun as well. Just nice to be out so remote in the desert with no extraneous sounds or lights. It is something that the folks I follow on YouTube (my guilty pleasure) that live in vans out West often do. I remember wondering about cougars, poisonous snakes, scorpions and coyotes.

In 1980 we showed my parents around the Four Corners Region when they visited from the Netherlands, and we took them to Moab, Arches and Dead Horse Mesa. What still amazes me was that during our visit to Dead Horse Point, we were standing and looking at the Colorado River, when a car drove up and two Dutch ladies stepped out, speaking Dutch. At that point there were five citizens of the Netherlands and only one American on the point. Quite a coincidence. One of my favorite memories is that after the meeting we decided to drive down a dirt road to the Colorado River. My wife Donna walked in front of the car (an old AMC Pacer) to move all the big rocks out of the way, make sure we would not bottom out or slide down the ravine.

As I mentioned before, we returned to the area in 1992 and it was great to see it again. I was more of desert rat by then, after getting my Ph.D. and subsequently having lived on the Colorado Plateau in Gallup. Abbey's description of the Navajo, the people, the nation and the treatment of the people was very familiar as well; I spent 3 years working with and around the Navajos. I describe our recent visit to Gallup and the region <here>.

Anyway, these are some of the things that I am reminded of when I read Abbeys book. While he is an interesting writer with great observations, his book can be tedious at times because of the run-on sentences and the difficult words. This is something I try to avoid in my lousy writing, but Abbey is a master. I found one sentence that is an entire paragraph long and in print was something like ten printed lines in the book. Moreover, I had to use a dictionary to look up some of the words he uses. But he was radical; while most of the time I agree with him, I would not dare to put some of it in print. He had guts and called it out.

I hope it was somewhat interesting and motivates you to pick up this interesting book.

September 24, 2024, my return to the desert of the Colorado Plateau.

Desert and Walden (3/22/2024)

Last week I signed up for a workshop with Clay Jenkinson that will be held at a resort in Idaho in early January next year. I will need to fly into Missoula, MT and it is somewhat interesting to tell folks it is in Idaho, because it feels like it is in Montana. The workshop is a discussion of two books, somewhat like a book club. We will be discussing Theroux's “Walden" and Abbey's “Desert Solitaire.” Interestingly, I have both books and have read parts of both of them. While it is still nine months or more away, I started re-reading Desert Solitaire.

Desert Solitaire discusses Abbey's time working for the National Park Service at what is now Arches National Park. I spent time in the Moab, Canyon Lands area in 1980 and 81 during my graduate studies at Utah State University. We returned as tourists in 1991 when we lived in Gallup, NM. By training, I am an arid land (or desert) ecologist, or even better a plant-ecophysiologist or stress physiologist. Abbey's book is hitting close to home when he details the plants, animals and sights in the Moab area. His environmental views also align with mine, and I even think his cynicism. Naturally things have changed since the time he was there. I remember well that we felt terribly intimidated by the buff young mountain bikers during our 1991 visit, so we decided to just go for a hike in Arches and not rent bikes (and make fools of ourselves).

While reading Abbey's book I wondered about my desert experiences. Where have I seen them, encountered them and spent time in them? My first real encounter with a desert was that morning we woke up in the airplane that took us to our new job in Uganda. This was in 1978 and we were flying over the Sahara. I was in awe. Later in life I have set foot in what looked like a desert in the Turkana area of north-western Kenya; I spent a lot of time in the Four Corners Region of the US; on the dry Tibetan Plateau of Nepal; in the deserts of Yemen; Egypt; and in the Chihuahua in southern New Mexico. I also spent time in the Great Basin, the Sonoran and Mojave deserts of the U.S. I grew up on the Island of Curacao and lived there for 13 years and this island was pretty dry as well. The island was covered by cacti. This might explain my love for the desert.

One of these days I will try to describe some of my experiences in all these deserts. For right now I’ll start with some generalities about why I have this love for the desert. As I mentioned, I grew up in the Caribbean, and from my bedroom on the island I grew up on I could see for miles. I could see the main land of Venezuela on a clear day, and at night we often saw the lightning on the mainland. With every lightning bold you could see an outline of the mountains sixty some mile away. I often tell people that I need to see the horizon, or at least be able to see for miles and miles. The desert allows that. While as I am sure you are aware of, I love trees and forests; however, I need to get away from that and broaden my view. During our recent trip through the Dakotas I was in heaven as well, driving through the more arid short grass prairie and again being able to see the horizon.

Being an ecologist, desert survival of plants, animals and even people fascinate me. This is what I call stress physiology. Even when I was working on my bachelor’s degree in the Netherlands in pasture ecology and agriculture, I was spell bound by an article in (forgive me) the Readers Digest about reforestation in the Moroccan desert. I fascinated me so much that I requested a book by Evenari entitled “Negev the challenge of the desert.” The book detailed traditional (Bedouin) and modern ways of living and surviving in the desert. I read the book from cover to cover. This was before my Sahara flyover. Anyway, stay tuned and I'll write more some about my desert experience another day.

The high Arizona desert.   We are looking back at the mountain above Flagstaff.   I took this picture in September during our trip across country.

Nomads, the conclusion (10/8/2023)

We are home arriving a few days ago. On arrival we felt both happy and sad at the same time. Happy to be home, sad that it was over, thirty-four days of travel of which most of them on the road. Yes, we spent a week sleeping on a guest bed at our daughter's and four nights in a motel bed, but we did spend the majority of those days that we slept in a motel in the van.

Here is a summary of our itinerary, listing the places we spent the night: (Home –) Twin Knobs Campground, Cave Run Lake (near Morehead, KY) – Babler State Park (near St. Louis, MO) – Big Lake State Park (near St. Joseph, MO) – North Sioux City (SD) – Gettysburg (SD) – East Totten Trail Campground (near Coleharbor, ND) – Miles City (MT) – Lewistown (MT) – Great Falls (MT, two nights) – Dillon (MT) – Logan (UT) – Cedar City (UT) – Henderson (NV) – Long Beach (CA, a week) – Kingman (AZ) – Flagstaff (AZ) – Albuquerque (NM) – Alamosa (CO) – Dodge City (KS) – Lee’s Summit (MO) – Rend Lake (near Mt. Vernon, IL) – Ashland (KY) – Natural Tunnel State Park (VA, three nights) (– home)

 

We drove 4695 miles going and 3277 miles returning. This makes sense considering on the way there we ended up north in North Dakota. I don’t know the exact amount of fuel we bought, but at 18 miles per gallon I can estimate that we burned 440 gallons of gasoline. This could have been less if we did not have to idle the van to keep our doggies cool.

We visited or drove through: VA, KY, IN, IL, MO, NE, IO, SD, ND, MT, ID, UT, NV, CA, AZ, NM, CO, KS, MO, IL, IN KY, TN, VA, a total of 19 different states. Personally, I added North Dakota and Nevada to the list of the states I have set foot in. Before this trip I had been to all the other states on this list. How long did we spend in these states? In total we spent 8 nights in CA, MT 5 nights, MO 3 nights, VA 3 nights, SD 2 nights, UT 2 nights, KY 2 nights, AZ 2 nights. We did not sleep in IN, IO, ID and TN and in the others only one night. Does this reflect our love, enjoyment or dislike of a certain state? To some extent, we really liked Montana and Missouri; in addition, we drove from one side of the state to the other (east to west, and in Missouri again from west to east on our return trip). Both states are big, but yes, we enjoyed both and fell in love with Montana. Kansas was liked least <here>. While I loved the countryside in certain areas of Kansas, we were bothered by all the feedlots, the looks, the smell that they produce and as a result the huge number of flies we had at our camp site. It was almost too much and it made us wonder if vegetarianism was the answer. Getting the hell out of Dodge seemed appropriate.

What did I or we learn from this trip? This country is damn big! No wonder it took Lewis and Clark so long to get across <here>. I realized that I still miss the desert, or maybe being an arid-land ecologist, observing all the changes in the plant life. I am and will stay a biologist or ecologist at heart. You read that folks complain about the monotony of the Great Plains; however, to me this area is fascinating. This includes the land use, differences in vegetation and most likely soils, the prairie potholes, the limitless sky, you name it. Moreover, I realized during the trip that the desert still remains my second love (after my wife/family/dogs of course). I have often written about forest bathing and my love dor wandering in the wood; I even presented a sermon on the subject. Yes, we drove through forests in Montana, New Mexico, Colorado and even in Missouri, Kentucky and Virginia, and loved it. However, I wonder if traveling through and spending time in the prairie and desert gives you the same benefits as experiencing the forest.

What did we learn about camping? You run out of time! Our van is small, and with two dogs we tend to cover the bed, a place where they spend most of their time while driving. The cover is used to keep the allergens (read dog hair) off our pillows and bedding. It generally took us 30 to 45 minutes to set the van up for sleeping once we decided it was time. Getting ready to get on the road in the morning is a different story. We never got on the road before 9:30. Stowing everything and cleaning up takes a long time. Thank goodness we both have our tasks and overall, it went very smooth. Usually, Donna would walk the dogs while I got the van ready for sleeping and driving the next day. I would make coffee in the morning while the dogs got their walk and breakfast, and at night I would make our evening coffee while Donna did the dishes. But still, it is a process to arrive at a site and depart the next day.

A little about camp sites. We stayed at commercial RV sites, KOAs, US government and County sites, and a town park. While KOAs started out as the last resort, they are the most expensive, later in the trip they became a great fall-back option and actually a preferred option at times. We found that commercial sites packed as many campers or RVs into their places as humanly possible. The sites were on gravel, which is a pain for the dogs, and two of the sites were next to livestock holding areas, smelly and teaming with flies. With the possible exception of the camping in Lewistown, MT, we left none of the commercial sites with the thought that it was so nice that we should return soon. Commercial sites charge around $50 per night.

KOAs are generally cleaner, have larger plots per camper, often have trees, clean restrooms and shower facilities, recreation facilities, a store, and sometimes a restaurant of sorts attached to it. Now, if you are passing through this may not be important, but it is nice, albeit more expensive. The cost for a night is close to $80 or even higher in desirable locations.

We fell in love with the State and County parks in Missouri and Virginia. They are relatively inexpensive ($20 to $35) and as good or better than the KOAs in my opinion. They miss the miniature golf, camp store and swimming pools, but they are clean, have nicely spaced sites and are well managed. With the special government pass, the US government sites are $10 per night. We stayed at one in Kentucky and in North Dakota. They were the two favorite sites on our trip. Finally, the city park site in Gettysburg, SD <here>. It seems that some of the small towns in the mid-west have opened their city parks to camping. They even provide electricity, water, bathroom and shower facilities to the weary campers. This is all for free, but a donation is welcomed. Moreover, you are expected to spend some money in town. We had breakfast at a local coffee shop the next morning. We loved the place and will return.

Something we never realized is that the public camp sites, like those owned or operated by the federal, state, or county governments have camp hosts. We encountered a camp host for the first time during our camping outing in July <here>; I wrote about them thinking they were unique; however, I now realize how ubiquitous they are. Hosts are folks that are volunteers who stay in the campground for free and manage things. At the campground in Lee’s Summit, Missouri and Rend Lake, Illinois <here> they even handled the registration and money. Camp hosts will bring firewood and ice to your camping site, and they all seem to drive around in golf carts to check on you and occasionally to chat. Now the town park site in Gettysburg <here> had no host and we were all alone, but the sheriff lived across the street.

As I mentioned above, we stayed in motels four times during our trip. Three of them were weather forced, in North Sioux city we read 108 on the thermometer <here>. In Cedar City we were hit with thunderstorms, and just outside Las Vegas we hit the heat again <here>. We had agreed to meet up with our friends who were moving from Yorktown wherever our paths crossed and stay in a motel <here>. The dogs behaved in the motel rooms, so it was actually not bad. Motel rooms are more expensive than camp sites and therefore are something to avoid.

Concluding this long post, we had fun. Will we do something like this again? Yes, probably but we need to plan the season better to avoid extreme heat, cold or inclement weather. Thirty-four days? Who knows, but first some shorter trips exploring our immediate area and the East Coast.

Google gave me a location map for September, and this shows the route we took.

Our dog Jasper is happy to be home, not to wear a harness and cuddle with mommy.  

Nomads, days 25 and 26 (9/27/2023)

So, we made it to Flagstaff and camped at a KOA campsite again. Although we hate to admit it, they have become one of our favored establishments. They are predictable and have relatively roomy sites and usually very friendly. What did we do the next two days? I for one was very excited, knowing that I would really immerse myself in the ecosystem that I dearly love: the southern Colorado Plateau high altitude desert. We were going to meet up with friends for the next two days and visit places we used to live in. But first things first.

Day 25: Flagstaff (AZ) – Gallup (NM) – Albuquerque

Day 26: Albuquerque – Santa Fe – Tres Piedras – Alamosa (CO)

It was especially day 25 that was so familiar to me. We had lived in Gallup for three years in the early 1990s and this was the next homecoming for us. We were able to contact Gwen, one of our best friends when we lived there and were able to visit her for three hours before moving on to meet our next batch of friends. But first Gallup.

The drive to Gallup was amazing; it included I-40 at its worse, Navajo souvenir shops, the Painted Desert and Petrified Forest National Parks, and a lot of reminiscing (“been here, remember this or that”). The entrance into New Mexico was as dramatic as I remember. The landscape changed from flat, high-altitude desert to the red rocks and cliffs that Gallup is famous for. Gallup looked the same, except that I think they moved the Walmart (which was overrun every weekend by folks from the reservation who came down to shop). At least I think it was. They had built what looked like town houses along the interstate. Gwen told us later that it was low-income housing. And there was a dog park in Gallup. It was great catching up with an old friend talking about old friends that we were not able to catch up with.

A little about the desert. Short grass, fourwing saltbush, sagebrush, an occasional juniper and other assorted plants. Having lived in Gallup, the species (looking from the van) and the sparseness felt so familiar. These were all species I had done research on during my career out west or know from the bonsai folks I follow. We spent a lot of time with Gwen and her late husband Mark visiting spots in the desert, looking for petrified wood, hiking the woods and exploring the lave fields and lava tubed in the Mal Pais.

The road from Gallup to Albuquerque was similar, we drove through the lave fields near Grants ("remember camping on the ridge with our daughter in her play pen and us almost starting a forest fire or meeting those folks from Florida who decided to travel the U.S. after their home was destroyed by hurricane Andrew?") before descending into the Rio Grande are. Maybe with the exception of the Indian Casinos, it was also familiar. I remembered the day that I was varnishing the floor in our living room, and I ran out of varnish. I jumped in the car and drove to Lowes in Albuquerque for another can and drove back. This was a three-hour trip, and it was snowing all the way. I continued varnishing when I arrived home. The floor looked great afterwards. Ah, to be young again!

In Albuquerque we met our friends Jean and Steve who were moving to Arizona for a temporary job. This was a motel night for us; we ended up going to dinner together and afterwards we said our goodbyes. Time for us to sleep in because of a date we had in Santa Fe after 10:30, while they got up early so they could reach the Phoenix area by nightfall.

The next day we had a wonderful get together with Ruth and Terry in Santa Fe. Terry and I used to commute together to the coal mine we worked at, and they took care of our daughter when we needed it. We had a great time catching up and getting pointers for our trip further north and east. At their recommendation we followed the route to Tres Piedras and a stop-over at the home that Aldo Leopold built as the time of his marriage and acceptance as head forester of the Carson National Forest. I felt like stepping on hallowed ground. It felt very special!

We ended our trip in Alamosa at the KOA campground (did I mention our like of KOAs?). We had spent some time in Alamosa in the past to attend a wedding between good friends, which is the reason why we chose this for our trip home. Jean and Steve told us that I-40 sucked; moreover, we wanted to stay away from the large highways. Alamosa is at 7500 feet elevation and famous for the Sand Dunes National Parks. It was predicted to be 34 degrees that night. A microbrewery and dinner out later we settled into the van, small space-heater on and hoped for the best. Ah what a grant two days in familiar territory and with old friends.

A quick walk in Flagstaff in the Pondarosa pine forest near the KOA

The desert

On the road between Santa Fe and Tres Piedras (honey I am home)

Aldo Leopold's home

Nomads, days 23 and 24 (9/25/2023)

On the road again. We left Long Beach. Here what we did the first two days on our return trip:

Day 23: Long Beach – Barstow – Kingman (AZ)

Day 24: Kingman – Grand Canyon – Flagstaff

Leaving the LA area made us realize that we had spent a week in polluted air. Driving the freeway out of the basin you could see the haze and we clearly broke out of it when we popped into the surrounding hills. According to the air quality apps the air was relatively clean; however, two days after we left our daughter texted us the latest updates and the air quality had deteriorated substantially. We had been in luck, folks told us, no Santa Anita winds and reasonably clean air. It had been relatively cool (low 70s) in what we had been told, the hottest period of the year.

When we left Long Beach for Kingman I had set the gps on my phone to drive via Palm Springs and Johsua Tree National Park. Unbeknownst to us our GPS reset itself to take the shortest route via Barstow (leave it to Google). This was somewhat upsetting to us since we drove down this way and we both hate to backtrack. However, it is the shortest way and we got to enjoy Interstate 40 (I-40) in its whole glory. Boy, what a terrible road that is! However, some 20 miles outside Barstow, we got to enjoy the Mohave desert in its full glory: hot, and sandy, with a lave field interspersed. Eventually the ocotillo cacti started coming in, indicating that we were entering or maybe approaching the Sonoran or sometimes called the Colorado desert. I had a ball, since I was trained as an arid land (desert) ecologist.

The highway follows the original Route 66 (yes, from the song), and this was fun as well, since we lived along it in Gallup, New Mexico, some 30 years ago. We were reminded of Route 66 all over Kingman.

That night it drizzled for a large part of the evening, and somewhat to my surprise the world still felt dry. You could hardly see the impact of the drizzle on the ground. “I am really back in the desert,” was my first reaction. On our way to the Grand Canyon the weather got increasingly worse, which somewhat in hindsight could be contributed to orographic lift, at least the wind direction was correct to attribute it to this phenomenon. It was off-and-on pouring in the National Park and the canyon was filled with aa dense fog. You could not see the other side, nor the bottom. Still, it was nice to see and be there.

Getting away from the canyon, the weather became remarkably better and once arrived in Flagstaff the sun was out. We tried to make a campfire, failed miserably but went to bed well satisfied. It was nice to be back on the road again, but this time it was in the direction home.

In Kingman, AZ

The Mohave desert in its full glory

Grand Canyon in the fog (the next three picture).  The first one could easily be a bonsai.

Nomads, day 15 (9/19/2023)

We have arrived in Long Beach, our intended destination. We have come here to watch our daughter get ordained as a Unitarian Universalist minister. I have no idea how long we will stay here. But let’s continue with the correct sequence of events.

Day 15: Henderson (NV) – Las Vegas – Barstow (CA) – Long Beach

Days 16, 17 and 18: Long Beach and the Los Angeles area.

The trip from our latest stopping point to Long Beach was interesting and uneventful at the same time. We left the hotel as soon as possible! Here, I came up with one observation: while the setup of the van makes sense and is good, we need to devise a better way of moving things from the van into a motel room or now into our daughter’s home. Yes, I get a lot of steps on my Fitbit walking back and forth between our van and the intended place of domicile for the night, but it all seems somewhat inefficient if you decide not to sleep in the van that night. We have our clothes in bins and when staying overnight in a motel room, I only need our toothbrushes, one piece of underwear, a clean T-shirt, etc. You get the message I assume. We still sleep with the same clothes on as at the time we were born.

After what had inevitably become to be, our regular breakfast of a McMuffin meal with coffee, we decided to go for broke and visit the famous Las Vegas Strip. It took us a half hour drive in morning commuter traffic to get there. However, we were treated with the sights we were somewhat expecting. The van we are driving has the advantage that you sit higher, and you can look over all the vehicles. It was a great vantage point. There was a lot of construction and traffic on the strip, so we inched from one end of the strip to the other. The benefit was that the driver (me) had plenty of chances to look around as well. The electronic billboards, the famous casinos, the tourists, and even the occasional person sitting on the curb, acting as if he was completely out of it, broke after gambling, drunk or with a hangover at 9 in the morning was fun to see. After hearing so much about the famous strip, it did not disappoint.

Leaving Las Vegas put us on Interstate 15, all the way to LA. Starbucks on the way, and by the time we left Nevada for California my Google Maps told me there was an accident somewhere down the road. We were passed by a screaming police vehicle and soon thereafter we got the reminder why not purchase one of these super big campers (at least the size of a big bus) that fit behind a monster truck. We finally got to see what one of those campers looked like from underneath. The camper was on its side on the shoulder of the highway. The truck that was pulling it was upright, but it looked like it had been on its side as well. The airbags had been deployed and when we drove by, I could see the driver trying to deflate them.

The remainder of the drive was fascinating. We just descended and descended from a plateau that was above 4000 feet to approximately 700 feet in elevation. It got progressively hotter, and the vegetation became sparser; we encountered large areas covered in sand. Looking on the map we could see we were entering the beginnings of what was to become Death Valley further to the northwest. We never actually entered Death Valley; we skirted it; however, this low area already seemed very inhospitable and an eerie reminder of what we could have encountered had we gone there. In Barstow we stopped for dog food at the local Tractor Supply, which was much larger than our local one at home. Lunch at the outlets near Barstow and on the road again, now with Long Beach as destination on our GPS. Our lunch spot (at Chipotle) was interesting. We sat outside with the dogs, and we were surrounded by house sparrows that were begging for handouts. Radar was really interested in the little birds and tried to shoe them away.

Back up in the hills to finally descend into the L.A. basin. As we dove down a layer of smog or maybe thicker polluted air and the L.A. highway system welcomed us. The highways were all that they were made out to be, very crowdy and congested. Thank goodness we were able to utilize the carpool lane having 2 individuals in the van.

We arrived in one piece after a 16-day trip. In the next post I will describe some of our adventures while residing in the Long Beach and L.A. area. We are now slowly starting to plan our trip back home. I think we will be somewhat happy to drive up our street, to stick the key in our front door and start planning some new (van-based) adventures.

Not in order of our trip this time.  We have arrived!

Joshua trees in the Mojave Desert 

Las Vegas strip

Las Vegas strip