We left the Brooklyn docks in the intense heat index of 110 degrees F on July 6th.  Hauling our backpacks, chalked full of (almost) everything we needed for the Mongol Rally – ranging from clothing and safety equipment to Russian phrase books and a toilet seat.  Needless to say, we were a rare sight on the Cunard’s Queen Mary II.  The very first day on board, we headed directly to the ship’s library and I perused the nautical history section in detail.  I read through early pirate history along America’s coastline, read about the crossing of the Titanic – White Star is now Cunard, and I also came across a great book about the Mayflower and a history of the pilgrims before they left the England and Holland.

Attending lectures by John Maxtone – Graham, author of The Only Way to Cross and Liners to the Sun, by day and

concerts and balls by night, Lauren had our entire days outlined by 8:00 the previous evening.  Graham gave extremely interesting portrayals of the History of Cunard, the building and crossing of the Titanic, and life on-board crossings during the 19th and early 20th century.  These lectures and histories really opened our eyes to the amazing way we started off our journey, which would / will eventually take us to Europe, Mongolia, and eventually Southeast Asia.

I eagerly watched the satellite image of the Queen Mary II cross over the final resting place of the Titanic 2.5 miles below our feet.  I walked up on the deck of the ship and looked out at the water realizing how much difference 3 months makes when cruising the North Atlantic.  I looked out over a foggy fairly calm sea in a humid 74 degrees Fahrenheit.  We had fog, but practically no fear of icebergs in July.  In April of 1912, we would have seen our breath in the cool air and the icy waters below.

After crossing over the sunken wreck of the Titanic, I read daily about the preparations the pilgrims made to come to America.  I read with great interest as I learned things which I had never been taught in school about the pilgrims crossing.  There had originally been two ships one was called the Speedway, which was purchased by the exiled pilgrims in Holland when they grew impatient with the negotiations with “sponsors” in England.  By the time they had arrived, a company called the Merchant Adventurers had purchased a ship called the Mayflower for their voyage.  There was great turmoil between the pilgrims and the Merchant Adventurers, who aimed to profit off the fishing around the new colony.  My previous understanding had been that they simply could go where ever they pleased in the New World, however in fact, they had to get land patents granted by the crown.

There were also accusations that Holland, who had claimed a right to Manhattan Island, attempted to delay the pilgrims and keep them away from the New World because the Pilgrims’ land patent was at the mouth of the Hudson River, which was too close for comfort.  There were many more facts which I will spare you that I found interesting about their voyage.  It was slightly amusing as I pulled my head up from the book, reading about how the Mayflower was in a turbulent storm in the mid-Atlantic and how the crossing took 60 plus days.  I, on the other hand, looked around took a sip of beer and listened to children laughing in the pool in front of me and was also in the Mid-Atlantic after just 4 days.

Once we arrived in Southampton, I discovered it was only a short walk with all of our gear (in much cooler weather than in Brooklyn a few days ago) to the Mayflower monument. We headed that direction and a wave of fascination swept over me as I looked up at the giant stone monument to the Mayflower crew. Strangely, there are bronze signs for many people on board but not for my ancestor, William Bradford. Hopefully after the rally this is something I’ll be able to remedy.

I’m growing a bit concerned about the folks on talk radio in the USA. We’ve had ol’ Limbaugh for quite some time, but recently I’ve noticed a surge in folks on the extreme right and left who take up the airways and fill them with drivel. Remember the good old days of Paul Harvey and ‘The Rest of the Story’? That was high quality radio right there! I’m really craving a show that gives interesting facts (not political points)or even a bit of American history. I know some stations donate a solid minute a day to history in the form of ‘this day in history’ but that simply doesn’t meet my apatite for good radio. I’d love a show where radio hosts interview surviving WWII veterans, or chat with politicians about their childhoods, moral ideologies and thoughts instead of their current events attitudes. It would be nice to see a wider picture of America than the Billboard top 20, the latest in celebrity gossip, and the diatribes of the psychotic.

Just a thought.

I don’t count. I simply do not exist nor do I count to the American government. Ten years ago I was overseas and wasn’t counted. As it happens, Americans living abroad not involved with the government are simply not counted in the census. Thus, for the last two censuses I’ve been nonexistent. A census representative had a booth set up in my home town. I asked the gentlemen about my status and made him exceedingly sad when I made a sad remark about not mattering. I think he took me a bit literally. Anyways, he filled me in on the policy of us non-VIPs living overseas. The bare bones of it—you don’t count.

This wasn’t my first interaction with the 2010 census. Down in Texas (where we did a bit of traveling last winter) we noticed dozens of billboards along the Mexican border with signs like “Be honest on the Census. Immigration officials do not have access to census files.” And things of that nature. We suddenly noticed some of Hollywood’s A-list stars on TV telling us politely to fill out the census forms. And each evening when we turned on the news we saw talking heads talking about the upcoming ordeal. How many millions were spent making these commercials, billboards and forms?—not to mention the folks who went door to door!

My personal experiences with the census didn’t stop with my sad encounter with the census rep in my home town. Nope, a young man came to the family home where I happened to be visiting and demanded to know why there were several people at the house when only one was listed. I told him I didn’t count, and he said that I did! Success! I matter again! He took down my name and hopped in his Toyota and zipped down the driveway as I basked in my newly gained self importance. I matter!

Alas, this simply isn’t the case. Recently up in the Upper Peninsula, in Michigan, a census woman emerged from the woods and inquired about our residency and status. We told her we sometimes matter and sometimes don’t, depending on which census representative is asking. Turns out we decidedly don’t matter in the UP. Defeated again! (although obviously, the April 1st point did not apply to us) On a funny side note, this poor lady said some of these cabins in the woods she is sent to have no roads, only paths, and she has walked several miles down trails only to emerge suddenly in the front yard of a small cabin. “Aren’t you worried about getting shot?” I asked her. “I’d get worker’s comp.” she replied. Funny lady. Apparently she has walked and hiked and driven all over the UP and has quite a few interesting encounters with the yoopers (upper peninsula locals) not to mention the very active wildlife. She confirmed my earliest suspicion that we didn’t matter and then laced up her hiking boots and headed back into the woods. This is one very thorough government!

Despite the seeming confusion about the census, I’m very excited to see the results. I can’t wait to see how some of the places I’ve lived and visited have changed and grown (or shrunk, whatever the case). I think it is a great practice, and I am honestly excited about it. Almost like a sitcom you love that you have to wait to see the finale for—come on 2010 census information! I wonder how long it will take for the results to get into the public domain (aka-Wikipedia) for each city/county/state, etc.

We’ve spent a few weeks in Michigan’s UP, the Upper Peninsula surrounded by great lakes. It is a beautiful, if not rugged landscape that grows tough, hardy people who are simultaneously hard as nails and yet as friendly as Home Improvement’s Wilson character. You can walk into a diner or bar in the UP and see some of the world’s most flannel-clad, bearded and grime covered men, only to have them pull out a chair for you or hold open the door with a tip of their baseball cap. It reminds me of a time I’ve never experienced, but only heard about. People leave their doors unlocked, and neighbors stop by almost daily to chat about the weather, the fishing conditions or whether or not you saw the deer out by the lake the previous evening.

Here is a story to demonstrate my point: The septic tank pump broke and alarms were going off in the cabin. We dug out the still water hole and replaced the pump. Meanwhile, neighbors from the left and right side of the cabin sauntered over to offer their help, advice and the use of their facilities until we solved the problem. Neighbors from even further down the road heard of the incident and drove by to see if they could help. It was like a sitcom scene where the whole town shows up in the yard to help one family. I had heard of such things in the past from my grandparents (or history books) but up in the UP that is just daily life. The community has taken us under their wing, given us local history lessons, books, food and fishing and hiking tips. It’s like we’re part of the family—two long lost prodigal grandchildren who suddenly returned from out of the woods. It’s a great feeling, and one we’ve never experienced anywhere we’ve traveled. All hail to simplicity!

On an unrelated note, our time in the UP has yielded quite a few fish as we try our hands at acquiring our food from the wild. As it stands, I have caught several large bass while Mike seems to be a pro at walleye and pike. I learned to filet the fish, a task which involved (sadly) cutting it open and taking out the parts Americans don’t eat. It made me sad since we’ve seen folks in China dig into the organs and eyes, head, etc and yet we’re wasting those parts here in the US. I have no idea how to cook fish head, but when I’m back in China I’ll take a cooking lesson or two so I don’t have to toss out half the fish in the future. I have this theory that you shouldn’t eat meat if you couldn’t or wouldn’t go out and catch/kill it yourself and prepare it from the moment you capture it to the moment you eat it. I’m testing this long-held philosophy with the fish. So far, it involves petting the bass and apologizing to it, turning around while Mike stuns it, and then I’ll cut it open (while apologizing) and then filet and skin the meat parts. Then I apologize a bit more while I’m washing and storing the fish. I never considered myself a city girl, but I think these Yoopers (UP locals) would have a good laugh if they saw me petting and apologizing to my recently caught bass.

We just returned this evening from a small neighborhood gathering where some of the town’s most well known locals had us (and a few other cabins) over for desert. We chatted about many things, but no political or religious conversations emerged. We talked at great length, however, about the beaver population (did you know a beaver can live up to 80 years!) and told stories around the table of our travels abroad (everyone was extremely intelligent and well traveled). I have to say, it was a really amazing, simple and perfect evening with the Yoopers.

You can’t consider yourself a long-term thinker if you shop at Wal-Mart, Best Buy, or any other major chain in the United States. Here is why: they outsource. Simply put, we get products for cheaper but in the end more folks here will be unemployed which will result in fewer purchases long term. Folks at these major corporations have to realize they are simply sucking as many greenbacks as possible out of the economy while it lasts. An entire economy based on service industries is hardly a stable one, but that is where we seem to be heading.

So, why do I take it out on Wal-Mart? Honestly, it isn’t really fair. Wal-Mart is just a prime example because they sell the largest range of crappy products on the market, stretching from crappy sewing machines to crappy electronics to crappy plastic toys to crappy, low-quality clothing. This isn’t much different from most other major corporations, but this one is more prevalent. Its like blaming McDonald’s for all fast-food woes.

Yesterday I was looking at a piece of antique furniture. Unless doused in gasoline or saturated in water, this thing will be around long after I am. Something about that is much more comforting than looking at the $20 Ikea equivalent. Our culture demands things for cheaper and cheaper, and when a deal is good we’ll buy the product even if we’re fully aware it is sup par. We seem more than happy to accept that an item has a shelf-life. I’d much prefer to buy something once and have it for life. My life, not the life span attributed to it because it will whither away on its own accord over time.

I remember the day I returned to the USA having spent several years in Germany as a child. We got away from the airport in our rental car and I asked my dad why all the houses were made out of cardboard. An astute observation for a child, I have to say. It turns out it isn’t cardboard, but 2×4 pine boards with a bit of drywall and nails. The shelf life of a home in the USA is under 50 years, and this seems downright sad. Mike and I recently worked with Habitat for Humanity down in Texas and were shocked at the minimal amount that actually goes into making a house. Once you see the process from A to Z you start to wonder how the thing lasts even 50 years. Meanwhile, in Germany homes are built to last several generations. They can spend the additional money to make it correctly and make it sturdy because no one family is supporting the entire weight of the bill. If America were to start to make better homes, it would have to change the underlying cultural trends wherein children leave the nest and move to an entirely new area.

This reminds me of a story my grandfather told me when I was younger. He said the US government brought in some German road engineers to teach them how to build long-lasting roads. The Germans dig way into the earth and layer with straw, sand, tar, cement, straw and much more over and over again for around 2 meters. When they finally slap on the last coat they have a product that can withstand extreme weight, weather and use. The Americans were impressed and started to mimic the German road-building method. Suddenly, construction was halted as a politician pointed out that all the road workers would eventually work themselves out of a job with these long-lasting roads. I don’t doubt the story is true, but I do doubt that we would work ourselves out of road jobs by making them right the first time.

I recently read that there are two types of belief systems- utilitarianism and deontology. The former type believes in the greatest good for the greatest number of people while the latter believes in personal rights, regardless of the outcome. Americans seem to be distinctly deontologists, and are concerned about the jobs of the workers over the long-term happiness and convenience of millions of Americans who would enjoy driving to work without dodging orange cones. I think this is interesting because I’d much prefer the roads to be done right, to the highest possible quality at a higher price tag now, and then save money and time down the road (ha ha, my first pun) on repairs. I also suggest this project as a sort of CCC type deal for our current unemployment solution.

I digressed from my anti Wal-Mart point, but the ideology underlining it is the same. I think long term we need to pay more for high-quality, lasting products from small businesses instead of buying the cheaper version that will wither away and need to be replaced. In short, I think the greatest good for the largest group of people in America would mean more jobs here, more high-quality, lasting products here, and building a country we’d be proud to show our grandkids, instead of delivering them one in need of massive repairs.

I don’t mean to launch into a diatribe, but its my blog and I feel like ranting about the so-called ‘disaster in the gulf.’

1. This is a product of drilling for oil. If we’re going to insist on using the combustion engine, we have to realize the consumers are as much at fault here as BP. If we were not buying up oil like it was gold, then they wouldn’t push themselves to drill it out of the ocean with such urgency that it causes them to be rushed and thus a bit haphazard.

2. Can people please stop blaming BP like they are shocked that a company would put the environment or human beings in danger in return for profit? Lets not be naive. The company is not Tony Hayward, who is also not a super villain who is secretly delighted by the spill. The company is the stock holders, who will do anything (including spend their fortune on an ad campaign mid-crisis) to keep the shares from losing value. There is nobody who deserves to have his or her ass kicked more than the stock holders, good luck Mr. President, in finding them all and kicking them a good one.

3. I’m tired of seeing oil-saturated birds and wetlands. We take a very large, very toxic dump on the environment on a daily basis all across the planet, this really isn’t any different. People are not willing to move past the combustion engine (see point #1) so they can’t blame anyone for oil-soaked birds but themselves. Put down your remote, pick up a pen and write your state representative to support mass transportation and clean, renewable energy. Otherwise don’t criticize BP for pouring oil down fish throats. Also, don’t call anyone who wants to progress past outdated technology a hippie. I doubt Ben Franklin, Alexander Graham Bell, or Eli Whitney would enjoy that type of labeling, and I don’t feel like I have dreadlocks forming simply because I think wind energy is more intelligent than digging for dead dino bones to light on fire.

4. If Americans want more jobs (and I think they should be actively demanding them) then they need to force their representatives to enact laws that ban or prohibit outsourcing. We have high unemployment at home while our electronics, automotives and chemicals are produces abroad. Being the jobs home, put people to work, and get more funding for our science programs so we don’t loose our innovative edge. Also, give grants for clean or renewable energy research and reward people who provide solutions instead of point out problems.

5. I’m supremely pissed that the real bill for this crisis is going to come out of our pockets. The reserves of oil under the sea in the gulf belong to our country, yet a British BP comes in and sucks it out, slaps a sticker on it and sells it back to us for a profit. Once this all blows over, you can expect gas prices to one day go up enough for BP to recoup its losses in the gulf. After all, the Exxon Valdez crisis was a disaster that is quite aptly comparable, and yet Exxon today is the largest company in the world. Anyone who doesn’t think this bill is landing on them isn’t look at the larger picture- which is to say, that we’re essentially going to pay BP for this misstep.

6. I’d like to suggest someone slap the media quite hard for their constant nagging. When did the media in the USA become as lame as the politicians? These folks are supposed to be reporters, which means they should be doing a bit of research from time to time. Instead, we have poor Admiral Thad Allen up there making statements and these talking heads (the reporters) are fixated on all the wrong aspects of this seemingly never-ending story. The media has made this oil spill the only thing happening in the world. I want to hear about the news. This is not new, this is over 50 days old. And the media seems more than happy to keep a constant ticker on how much they harp on one story instead of report on what is actually happening now in the world. It makes me feel like the media is intentionally focusing on this to avoid having to do any real work. Meanwhile, we have real issues going on around the world that Americans should be aware of, and all they know about it how the media is trying to portray everyone as incompetent. The only really incompetent ones are the folks at CNN, Fox and every other major network that has long since stopped being respectable.

7. Finally, and this is a positive point for a change, I’d like to point out how awesome I think Thad Allen is. This military man, the ‘incident commander’ is a straight-shooting guy that really doesn’t’ bullshit his way through a press conference or dodge answers. If he were to run for office tomorrow I’d click ‘yes’ simply because he isn’t a politician. Reporters ask him questions and he gives an answer. Meanwhile, at a press conference yesterday, the White House spokesperson standing behind Than Allen interrupted several of his straight-forward answers to back peddle, blame shift, and generally make himself look like a lawyer/villain from a Tim Allen movie. I’m so outraged by the type of person who goes into politics (in both/all parties) that it is actually a real shock to see someone answer a questions bluntly. Way to go, Thad, and keep up the straight shooting. Also, you just might be the military’s best spokesman at present.

That is all I have to say about the disaster in the gulf….for now.

Traveling for the past year has been quite an enlightening experience. We left our home in Shanghai on May 1st, 2009 and are still on the road (now in America) traveling and taking in as much as possible from the world’s various and diverse cultures. One thing that has struck me recently is the extreme amount of marketing and advertising in the USA. We’re completely saturated in capitalism, and I don’t say this in a Marxist way, but in a ‘is this a product of our culture, or our political system?’ kind of way.

In China, marketing was only just emerging in full force. I remember distinctly the day cabs in Shanghai were outfitted with miniature TV screens on the back of the driver and passenger seats. They didn’t necessarily even market specific products so much as provide a venue for advertising in the hopes companies would catch on. By the time we left Shanghai come five months after the insulation, we had screeching ads blaring at us as we zoomed across the city.

In the ‘Stans we found a distinct lack of advertising, and in Turkmenistan we were standing at the bus stop one day and it suddenly hit us – “They don’t have Coca Cola here!” It was surprising, and yet wonderfully relieving. Also, the buses were not plastered in erectile dysfunction ads or maxi pad logos. It was also very nice.

Once we reached Europe we were no longer used to seeing ads at all, and were a bit taken aback by the billboards that blocked the view from the train. Although it was done a bit more tastefully than in China, the trains did contain a few little marketing stickers here and there. By and large, we were not overly saturated or bombarded.

In November we entered the USA in Florida and the wave of advertising and marketing was a choking shock. It seemed like too much, too fast, and none of it seemed relevant or even applicable to where it was being advertised. It was almost like companies plaster their logos over as much of the country as possible. Take, for example, Sonic (fast food). They advertise nation wide even though they don’t have restaurants in every state. Or, and this is what really began to irritate me when we returned to the USA, the radio seemed to play about two songs before cutting to 5 commercials, and we found the same to be true of TV. We actually timed it one afternoon while watching a one hour show—15+ minutes of commercials!

In recent weeks the extreme and overt advertising in the US has become a real drag. I’m tired of hearing about all these products. When I finally do get to the store I’m so burnt out on this stuff that I feel inclined to buy the products that advertise the least—thus rewarding them for not annoying me. I feel like I’m a 90 year old grumpy woman with a ‘get off my property’ agenda, but in all honesty cable TV costs a lot of money, why do I still have to listen to commercials? I have to pay for internet, so why do I still have to look at ads? Isn’t there a way to get these irritating marketing people out of my life?—the temporary solution is, at least for now, to head back overseas where I happily have no idea what new flavor Coca Cola is launching, or which washing detergent has more or less H20 in it. I also don’t want to know which cell phone company covers more of America, as I’ll never get a cell phone again (those horrible, soulless companies) nor which deodorant leaves less white crap on my black shirts (they all clog your pores with aluminum and eventually cause lymph nodes to be blocked). Anyways, I want out of this world of saturated media, and back into a place Coca-Cola free.

In recent months I’ve come to realize what my psychology (and statistics) professors meant by ‘Negative Response Theory.’ Essentially, people who are unhappy with a given situation are more likely to go out of their way to voice their opinions than people who are happy with the same situation. This skews all polls (as people with a grumpier outlook on the situation will go out of their way to participate while content people won’t) and makes having a blog somewhat unnerving. Here’s what I mean:

We write a lot of posts about the places we visit, and the people we talk to or the experiences we have. Its meant to be a fun travel website that really documents our journeys and has a bit of information on what we experienced, heard or saw. Nevertheless, total strangers go out of their way to point out flaws in the website. It is very rare that a total stranger goes out of his or her way to point out something good. Perhaps our site is total crap, or perhaps this is a perfect example of negative response theory. It is depressing because our culture trains us to be critical thinkers, which most of us view as a good thing, but some people just take it too far. Now we have a nation of amateur lawyers trying to find holes in every argument, conversation or passing phrase. To an extent this is healthy, but by and large I’m starting to think that Americans can’t enjoy anything anymore because they never stop questioning things.

But, and this is why it is depressing, Americans hardly ever seem to take action. I hear people complain all around me about the government, taxes, their township, etc., but instead of taking meaningful action they vent their frustrations by leaving negative and critical feedback everywhere they visit on the web. The web is now the world’s largest therapist as it offers a way to interact with the world by venting your built up frustrations and redirecting your anger at more meaningless (and therefore manageable) problems. For example, we’ve had a lot of people attack a post we did on a one day trip to Malaga. People go out of their way to leave an ‘I disagree!” comment, often without even reading the original blog post! We reserve the right to approve or deny all comments posted on our site, and are sad to report that some comments were so full of hatred and vile that we did not ‘ok’ them. We have children reading the site for goodness sakes! But the real issue is why someone, anyone, would get so upset about a random post on a random travel site. Methinks the issue lies elsewhere, but it doesn’t stop be from losing a lot of the passion I used to have for writing these posts. In a country where freedom of speech reached its pinnacle, I feel completely suppressed because it no longer matters what I say– someone will exercise their right to speak against it, even if they have no idea why! Here’s what I mean:

See, the poor guy was just trying to play ‘Dust in the Wind’ on his fake guitar. He isn’t hurting anyone, and yet people went out of their way to be rude. If they didn’t like it they should have navigated away from the page, which is what I suggest you do if you don’t like our website.  Nobody is forcing you to read it, after all.

Into Cave Abyss

After a great two days in Eugene, we packed up the old trusty mini van once again and decided to hit the road and head south. With all four of us in the minivan, things were lively and the drive flew by quickly. We reached the creepy town of Cave Junction around 10pm and decided to see what these Oregon caves were all about. Mike ran into a terrifying-looking gas station to ask directions to the caves. They replied, “its near the greyback.” Mike nodded knowledgeably and ambled back to the van to report the directions. We sat in the van blinking at each other. “What’s a Greyback?”

We pulled into Cave Junction’s only hotel where a lady with 1980′s makeup and shoulder pads so large they hit her in the ears told us to head for the greyback to find a camping spot. She gave us a free local newspaper (aka, a tiny pamphlet of nothingness) and pointed up the road. “To the greyback!” We repeated her mantra back to her with a bit less gusto, “to the greyback?!” and made our way out the door.

Eventually, after a beer stop and a few more inquiries, we decided to just find out for ourselves what this mysterious greyback was. Twelve miles up a horribly-constructed road we found a campground and Mike ran past a “CLOSED” sign to inquire again. From deep in the woods a woman’s voiced yelled out, in true Goonies style, “We’re closed!” and then a dog began to bark very close by and Mike and his friend sprinted into the van. No help at the camp site. We drove back down the road and saw a lit phone booth. A mirage in the woods that seemed beyond creepy. I took a picture (yes, its on flickr, no it didn’t turn out very well because the car was bumping along a dirt road as I took it). It turned out the phone booth belonged to a man who ran a camp site. Score! He installed us in an RV lot for 16$ and we set about making a fire and cooking our dinner. Only after we finally figured out how to assemble the tent did we realize the rain cover was full of holes.

Mike and Lu in Oregon Caves

In the morning, the forest seemed only slightly less creepy. We packed up our camp site  after making some breakfast on what was left of the fire, and headed deeper into the woods to solve the mystery of the greyback. You just can’t stop for intrepid explorers eager for discovery.

The Oregon Caves system is a national monument. And we learned from our 90 minute tour of one of the caves that a monument is a presidential decree rather than an act of congress.  Hopefully that helps you down the road in bar trivia. Our national monument ranger wore the typical OD green suit and funny ranger hat, and talked to our group of adults like we were perhaps 6 or 7 years of age. She told us stories in a drawn out tone, and even called us kiddos. She led us deep into the heart of a cave, some 200m underground. It was a dark, creepy and yet beautiful experience. Unfortunately, in our attempt to preserve the cave someone cut it all up to put in cement floors, stainless steel stairs, railings, ramps, lighting, cables for lighting and emergency exits. Its really not much of a natural thing anymore, its more like a movie set on Batman. My hypothesis– if humans find it, its screwed.

Nevertheless, we enjoyed the tour through tiny, musty cave rooms that looked very strangely like our first apartment in China. We scaled up and down slippery steps, around hanging stalactites and over pointy stalagmites. We even had to duck once. Eventually we left the caves without interacting with any live nature, and we drove back through Cave Junction (still creepy in daylight) and onwards towards California. While we never did learn what a greyback was, some mysteries are better left unsolved.

We packed up the minivan and decided to head south to see two longtime friends and adventurous souls who live in Eugene, OR. The drive was pleasant down ol’ I-5, and we arrived made great time without incident until we got to the lovely and illogically grid-like, one-way nightmare of downtown Eugene. We thanked Map Quest for their incorrect instructions and, without cell phones, decided to head towards the only hill in the city for a better look. Turns out that was the hill they lived on. Problemo solved.

The following morning, after an informative and retro night on the town,we ventured to a local hot spot, Off the Waffle, for some breakfast. A nice treat there, and then a quick peek at a vintage book store where I found a rare book on exploring Central Asia for herbs, before we decided to hike to the top of Eugene’s hill for a better look. As Mike was backing up the trusty Toyota, there was a bit of a mishap that doesn’t bear retelling. Suffice to say Mike can never make fun of how I drive again. Ever! Score! This was the best accident of all time, in my book.

Area Around Eugene

Eugene is a very unique city. In our limited time there we saw that very few large corporations have penetrated into the city’s center. Anti-expansion laws have made property prices skyrocket, but there are no suburbs full of Wal-Marts or Home Depots either. Independent restaurants and cafes dot the city, and the uniqueness is almost overwhelming at first. Americans seem to like arriving in a new town and having it look almost identical to the town they left. McDonald’s, Walgreen’s, Target…. all of these places are lined up on consumer alley (or main street) in almost every American town of any size. Eugene is a breath of fresh air and shows what America could look like if it wanted to. It reminded me of why I disliked traveling in the USA– every time you arrive somewhere new you feel like you haven’t left home yet.

While traveling to Eugene made me aware of all of this, it was also pleasantly different, and we spent a few days soaking that in. The higher prices were well worth it to try so many new things. By the way, at an independent grocery store I found out there are literally thousands of different kinds of cereal. Turns out if you shop at a name-brand store they get to decide your menu for you. And here I thought all along there were only a few kinds! Silly me. Eugene’s independent grocery store had two isles of bulk cereals. You take as much as you want, mix and match, add accompaniments, and you’re off! Don’t get me started on how many kinds of juice there are. I did not think you could find lychee juice outside of China. Anyways, suffice to say we liked Eugene.