Traveling Domestic

The last week in September I hopped a super cheap Allegiant flight to California.  I flew from Idaho Falls to LA, rented a car, drove to San Luis Obispo and spent the night there.  Then the next morning I headed up the 101, making a short stop to visit my long lost high school friend and blog reader, Kirsten.  

We played soccer together for Rigby High School.  We sucked.  

Anyway, it was fun to catch up and visit and for me to learn all about Kirsten's place of residence, Greenfield, CA, which may as well be called Campo Verde, California because it is pretty much a little piece of Mexico, right in California...in fact 90ish% of its population is Hispanic.  

The electronic marquee at the school where Kirsten's kid attends is in Spanish...only in Spanish as far as I could tell.  I didn't want to stick around too long though to see if it would change to English...snapping photos while sitting in a rental car outside an elementary school might be seen as freaky.  I just don't know if "Yo soy un blogger...les prometo!" would be a good enough explanation for why I was taking pictures of the school marquee.  So, I moved on quickly.  

It seems that only Hispanics dare/care to run for office.  

Anyway, Greenfield was an interesting little podunk town to visit and it was fun to see Kirsten after all these years.  

Then I headed up to Palo Alto, stopping at the outlet mall in Gilroy to try to find some new clothes... particularly church clothes.  But, I was unsuccessful and all I left with was messed up, staticy hair.  Sad.

I got to Palo Alto Friday night and met up with my friend, travel buddy, and former mission companion Katie.  (She's the one I traveled in England, Turkey, Norway, and Switzerland with this past Spring.)   

We grabbed some dinner at a nice little Italian place that was supposed to have amazing ñoquis, but they ran out before we got any.  Dang.  Ñoquis are my favorite.  

The next morning Katie and I, as well as Katie's friend Danielle, who I got to know and travel with a bit while she and Katie were working in London, all headed to San Fransisco for the day.  

We had breakfast/brunch/lunch at Mama's.  It was delicious.  

Then we just toured San Fran.  

A view

A gorgeous view of the Golden Gate Bridge.  I've always wondered why it isn't golden though.  That would have been a nice touch.  

P.S., did you know that the Golden Gate Bridge is the world's number one suicide spot?  Weird/sad, huh?  

The weather was gorgeous...actually quite hot for the end of September.  There wasn't a bit of fog covering our view.  

Me, Danielle, Katie, and a really annoyed girl (because she had to wait for 10 seconds while we snapped a picture) at the super crooked part of Lombard Street, a typical tourist stop.  

Katie and I after we took a sweaty hike up to a viewpoint of the bay.  The view was worth the sweat.  

Me

We three

Anyway, Katie, Danielle, and I hung out all day in San Fransisco but for some reason I didn't take many more pictures.  Maybe I felt too sweaty and gross.  I can't remember.  

Sunday Katie and I took a long and winding road up into the Santa Cruz mountains where her ward was holding church since they'd had a ward camp-out that weekend.  I doubt that is really legit per the Church Handbook of Instructions, but whatever, who am I to say.  Besides, having church in the middle of a Redwood grove is pretty spectacular, except for those hard wooden benches.  I lost all power to concentrate on anything other than my tail-bone after about one hour.  Too bad I didn't have a doughnut pillow with me. 

After church, Katie and I went over to Danielle's house where we all cooked a delicious dinner together.  

Then Katie and I went to the rebroadcast of the Relief Society General Broadcast.  I'll be honest.  I usually try and avoid going to that meeting.  I like to screen the talks myself from the privacy of my own home and just read or listen to the ones that I want to.  I know.  I'm a brat.  I just have a low tolerance for exclamation points and bragging about perfect children. 

But, it was actually quite good this year.  I'm not saying I'm going to make going a habit, but I will admit there were some very good talks.  

Monday morning I headed to the Stanford mall for several hours of shopping.  I figured I'd have better luck in California then in Idaho to find some decent clothes, but I still didn't have too much luck.  More messed up, staticy hair.  

I just hate shopping for clothes.  I hope we have uniforms in heaven because I just don't think any place where you have to go shopping for clothes could be considered heaven.  But, I also feel that heaven won't be heaven for me unless it is dog free and I know that lots of people feel the opposite and I'm not sure how they're going to work all that out.  Maybe there will be dog and non-dog sections...like smoking or non-smoking tables.  I'm really hoping we can all come to a consensus on the uniform thing though.  But not ugly ones like MoTab outfits or anything.  

Anyway, after I'd had as much of the mall as I could take I drove over to Half Moon Bay and began my journey down Highway 1.  

For some weird reason I've always wanted to drive all of Highway 1, or all of the whole coast of the Western United States if I had the chance.  

I guess it's just something I heard about and decided I would do at some point in life. So, I decided that now was as good a time as any to get started on it.  

That first day I drove from Half Moon Bay to Monterey, where I stayed for the night.  I was just driving and driving and driving to get to Monterey and I was so hungry but kept passing places thinking that something more delicious would come along but finally when I got to Seaside (which is basically part of Monterey) I was so hungry that I made a desperate choice and went to Taco Bell, which isn't one of my first choices.  

Well, to make a long story short, Taco Bell became Taco Hell, as I spent the rest of the night ralphing up my taco.  Yup, food poisoning.  

How is it that I have eaten street food, salads, and strawberries in Africa, Central and South America, as well as the sketchy parts of Europe and Asia and have always come out okay, but one little taco from Seaside, CA could wipe me out?  Seriously.  

Anyway, the next morning I walked around Monterey a bit and then got on the road and headed down Highway 1.  

The views were gorgeous.  It was so hot that it was almost a little hazy but it was really pretty.  

Another view.

More Highway 1 scenery.  

I stopped by Hearst Castle.  It was pretty stinking awesome.  I thought I wouldn't be too impressed because I've seen some pretty cool castles in my day, but this one was just so interesting because it was so over the top and crazy and had artwork and even whole rooms from all over the world.  And William Randolph Hearst, the builder of Hearst Castle, was a little bit crazy...and slightly crazy people fascinate me.  

Here's a view of Hearst Castle which overlooks the ocean.  

I think the pools were my favorite...great views, Roman or Greek or whatever ruins, marble statues from Italy...just completely over the top.  

The indoor pool was super cool too.  I just didn't get a very good picture of it.  William Randolph Hearst originally had plans for the indoor pool to be salt water and have sharks and crocodiles and other scary things swimming on the other side of a glass partition from the humans.  That gave me the creeps because I used to have nightmares of swimming in a pool like that.  

I drove pretty much all the way down highway 1 to LA where I flew back to good old ID.  The picture above is Morro Bay.  


Anyway, it was a good trip.  It was nice to see some of California besides LA/San Diego or the very north near the Oregon border, which are the only parts of California I'd been to before this trip.  And, I really liked Northern California and the Central California Coast...it's definitely better than Southern California, in my humble opinion.  

Listen up leeches...

Hey leeches...you owe me...you know you do.

So, here's what you can do for me...

My cousin-in-law, Jason, is a finalist for an 18,000 dollar scholarship for students with cystic fibrosis.  

And, the winner of that scholarship is determined by whoever gets the most votes.  

So, to clear your conscience and make up for your leechy behaviors, here's what you need to do.

Go to www.solvaycaresscholarship.com and VOTE for Jason E!

You can vote once per email address, so if you have several email addresses, well, be a champ and vote several times.

It will take less than one minute of your precious blog surfing time, I promise.  

Then, pick up your phone (or better yet, phones) and call: 

1-888-305-9808 and vote for #19...Jason E.  

Or, if you are the texting type, text: VOTE19 to 30364.

If you want to know a little bit about Jason before casting your vote, you can just go to the scholarship voting site and read Jason's profile.  

But I'll just save you the time and will tell you that he's one of the coolest, most optimistic, and hardest working people I know.  

And definitely very deserving of this scholarship.

Jason and his wife Geri (my cousin).  I hacked this picture off of their blog, so I really hope it's one they like.

He graduated with high honors (one of the cum laudes...I can't remember which one) from BYU-I and just started Optometry school in California.  And, I don't know much about Optometry school, but I'm guessing it's pretty dang expensive and an extra 18 grand would really come in handy...especially in California.  


He's a super great guy...served an LDS mission, is kind to everyone, plays tons of sports, and loves children and small puppies.  (Actually, not sure about the small puppies, but everything else is true.)


And that, leeches, is why you should vote for Jason.


Okay, now that you've voted two times (via phone and online) for my cousin-in-law, I give you permission to feel good about yourself again...even though you are a leech.  


Later leeches!
Love, Becca


What are you doing still reading this post?  Go VOTE!


And then tell everyone you know to vote as well...even your pretend friends on Facebook.  


Seriously, what are you still doing here?  Get voting already!

Get Out Of Jail Free Card...

I've got to be honest here.

Some Sundays I really wish I had one of these...

a Get Out Of Jail Free card.  

Here's how it works...

High Councilor getting a little long winded?  Sniff your baby's bum, grab the diaper bag and walk out.  Nobody will think you are rude, nor will they question whether or not your baby actually needed a diaper change.  In fact, they will thank you for changing your baby's diaper before they smelled anything (especially true for older babies).  

Dying of hunger or thirst during Sacrament Meeting? Grab your kid, baby bottle or sippy cup, fruit snacks and goldfish crackers, and walk out to the hall for a tasty snack.  No one has to know it's you that is uncontrollably hungry and thirsty and not your kid.  

Having a hard time concentrating in Sunday School?  Purposely let your child misbehave...give them loud or otherwise annoying toys or let them run around the back of the room.  Then, minutes later when they become visibly obnoxious to those around you, take the kid out.  Let your face flush a bit and people will think that you're so embarrassed that your kid is such a hellion, but really you are the hellion who just wants to get out of studying Isaiah.  

These are just a few examples of using the Get Out Of Jail Free card in church.  I'm sure you can all think of more...ones you may even be guilty of using yourself.  I think pretty much every parent uses the card at one time or another.  

And the bad thing about being a childless spinster is that you're stuck...for three straight hours.  Because really the only thing you can do to get out of a meeting in progress is to start coughing uncontrollably.  And, really, you can only do that about once or so a year.  Any more than that and people will start thinking you have tuberculosis and will avoid you.  And you don't want that to happen.

So, you just stick out those high councilor talks and lessons on Isaiah and hope that someday, someone, will come up with a socially acceptable hall pass for people of all walks of life.  

But until then, I'll endure to the end and will use my uncanny ability to daydream as a mental escape in times of need.  

Oh, and am I aware that my nephew is beyond adorable?  Yes, yes I am.  

And, I'm afraid that so is he. 

Just look at Mr. Rico Suave.  Eight months old and already knows how to work a crowd.  

Sometimes I do slightly stupid things...

I'm guessing that at some point in your earthly existence you've all received that forward about the World's Most Dangerous Road, aka: Yungas Road, or Death Road in Bolivia, which contained pictures like this...

and this...

and this...

and this...

and this...

and this...

and this.  

The forward goes on to give you all sorts of scary facts about why this road is called The World's Most Dangerous Road, or Death Road.  Like the fact that in 1983 a bus ran off a cliff and killed over 100 people...all in one tragic accident.  Or the fact that an estimated 200-300 people died per year on the road from the time the road was built in the 1930's until 2006 when a new road was built that bypassed the worst of the old Yungas Road.  

The forward also lets you know that the road is only 10 feet wide in most places, has only four short guardrails along the entire 40 mile road, has several waterfalls running through the road, has 2000-3000+ foot cliffs (that's 6-10 times the height that I bungee jumped...yikes!), and often has rain, fog, and or dust creating visibility problems.  Oh, and it's a dirt/gravel road.

And, although in the rest of Bolivia people drive on the right side of the road, on this road you drive on the left side, so that the driver is always close to the edge of the cliff and can stick his head out the window and see exactly where his outside tire is in relation to the cliff.  

Anyway, I've received this forward several times since forwards became a means for sharing "useful" information with friends and family.  And I've always thought 'holy crappoly I never want to be anywhere near that road...if I go to Bolivia some day I will avoid that part of the country!'

But, in the end, what did I do instead?  I not only went on the road but I mountain biked the road...for 40 miles (fortunately about 90% of the ride was downhill).  

So, how did I go from shaking in my pants just from reading a forward about the Death Road to riding a bike down Death Road?  

I don't know.  

I guess sometimes I just do slightly stupid things.  

My friend Kate, as well as the 15 other people from our group that did the mountain biking somehow convinced me that I should do it too.  

And, I didn't want to miss out on potential fun.

And, I might only be in Bolivia once.

And, I know for sure that you only live once.  

And, I'd rather die living then live like I was already dead.  

Plus, the road has gotten significantly safer since the new Yungas road was completed in 2006 and most of the traffic was diverted to that new road.  Although on average they still lose a biker or two per year.  But, a biker already died in 2010 so I figured the odds were with me for living.  

And, I figure that as long as I don't have any offspring who are dependent on me or a husband who would miss me, that I may as well continue to do slightly stupid, but really fun things.  

Okay, my reasoning sounds kind of dumb when you write it all out like that, but it felt like really sound reasoning at the time.  

Anyway, the Yungas Road starts near La Paz at an altitude of over 15,000 feet.   

This is what the beginning of the road looks like.  At 15,000+ feet not much grows so it's pretty barren and desolate.  

One of the coolest things about the bike ride is that in 40 miles you descend over 11,000 feet.  That's a big enough change in altitude to sky-dive!  Yeah, I know, crazy.  

So, as you go from 15,000 feet and end up several hours later at around 4,000 feet above sea level, you get to see quite a change in terrain.  You start in the Altiplano region and end up in the Amazon jungle.  

This is a picture at the end of the road...it was very Jurassic Parkish.  

Oh, and lest you forget that what you are doing is slightly stupid, they have these...

all along the way to remind you.  

We biked down the road and then drove back up it to get to La Paz.  Our driver loved stopping on the way back to La Paz to show us different crosses or memorials along the road and tell us things like, "this is the area where two buses went off killing everyone inside," or "this memorial marks the place where some men from the opposing political party were thrown off the cliff several years ago," or "see where all the vegetation is crushed?...yeah, that's where a van of 16 people went off the cliff last week."  

But, despite the dangers of the road, it was a beautiful and amazing bike ride. 

And, here are a plethora of pictures to prove it...

This "curve ahead" sign is maybe the understatement of the century.  The road takes pretty much a 90 degree turn (or else you go off the cliff) right into a waterfall and all they give you is a little curvy road warning?  

Here we are at the top of one of the cliffs.  The cliff is so tall that you can't even capture it all in one picture...the bottom went way farther down than this picture shows.  

I just feel that the pictures don't do the sheer terror of the cliffs or the beauty of the scenery justice. 

Most of the girls who did the ride.  

We had to wear the bright orange safety jackets...not just so cars could see us but so they could find us if we flew off a cliff.  That's comforting.   

On the far right of the picture is one of the sharp curves we had to go around.  I think they call it "Postcard Point" or something because it's so picturesque.  But, photographers beware...some dude accidentally backed right off the cliff (and died) while he was taking a picture.  

Me, not backing off a cliff and not dying.  

Since cars on the road drive on the left side we were technically supposed bike on the left side too...mere inches away from the cliff (no exaggeration here). 

I, however, have heard of tons of people on bikes surviving getting hit by cars, but have never heard of anyone surviving biking off a 2000+ foot cliff.  So, I decided to take my chances with the cars and biked on the right side next to the mountain.  I think I made a wise choice.  

Just taking a break.  We had lots of breaks during the ride so we could unclench our hands from the bike breaks, stretch our legs, take some pictures, get instructions about the terrain ahead, and, just look around at the scenery.  

They encourage you to not look at the scenery while riding, but to stay focused on the road instead.  I guess people have ridden their bikes right off the cliff while peacefully observing a butterfly, bird, or beautiful vista.  

And, here we are at the bottom.  Not all 17 of our group made it to the end.  Nobody died or anything but one guy in our group did fly off his bike, face-plant, and end up with 45 stitches or something like that.  I'd show you a picture of him but my mom doesn't like blood, and, as my mom is both my mother and one of my best blog fans I will not gross her out this early in the morning.   

But, luckily for our face-planting friend, we had an ER doctor with us and he, as well as a couple other people, accompanied the face planter back to the hospital in La Paz where he got all stitched up.  

In conclusion, I'm really glad I did the Death Road ride but I hope no one I care about ever does.  


The end.  

Getting technical...

Sometimes people say, "hey Becca, how many countries have you visited?"  


And I want to know exactly because it would be nice to have a definite answer instead of "Um...I'm not really sure...60ish?" 


There are just some places I've been that aren't really countries but aren't just territories either.  


Like for example:


Scotland, Northern Ireland, and Wales...Wikipedia calls these all countries.  Some people don't consider them countries but just say that they're part of the UK and count that as one country.  So, I don't know whether to count England, Northern Ireland, Wales, and Scotland as one country or as four.  


Isle of Man...considered a British Crown Dependency.  This is not a territory.  The Isle of Man has its own government, own currency (sort of), own healthcare system, own tax laws, own welfare system.  They just rely on England for military protection (and pay them for it).  So, it's not a territory, but is it a country that just hires out the dirty work of war or just a nice place to spend a summer day?  


Vatican City...some list this as a country others call it a city-state.  I call it awesome.  Vatican City is so cool.  I even saw the Pope when I was there.  And, the pope-mobile, of course.  


Liechtenstein...most list this as a country but some list it as a microstate.  It's so tiny (and beautiful) but is it a country or just a little bit of land smashed between Switzerland and Austria?


Some places are more obvious and easy to categorize.  


Like Guam or Puerto Rico.  I wouldn't count those as countries I'd visited if I ever went there, because, even though they are very different from the United States, they are still territories of the United States.  So, you might feel like you're in a different country, but you aren't...as is the case with Texas.  


Or, Antarctica...that is obviously a continent and not a country.  And although several different countries have made claims on portions of Antarctica, those claims aren't recognized universally.  Even though Antarctica wouldn't count on my list of visited countries I really, really, really want to go there.  Someday... 


Anyway, I know I'm getting technical with all of this and that it really doesn't matter.  But, I just get asked the "how many countries have you visited?" question a lot and I'd like to have an answer.  


So, what do you think the definition of a country is?  How would you count some of the places I listed above?  What makes a country a country?