Lean southern dining

Where were we? Ah, yes. Santa Fe.

We made good time huffing it down to the New Mexico capital. Our host for our 12 hour stay, Veronica, saddled up to our pace and waisted no time getting us out to the Santa Fe plaza. Santa Fe looks just as I had imagined - quaint, desert-camouflaged town selling equal amounts of turquoise and chili.

We did the Santa Fe-night right with drinks at the Coyote Cafe, delighting in a hot pink prickly pear margarita, followed by more margaritas and a chili-blanketed Mexican meal at the local eatery, The Shed. The chili there is no joke. We tested out the home-grown Sante Fe green chili stew as an opener to their indiginous spice. A local staple, the green chili stew was SO tasty, surprsingly so, that it was gone before the cup cooled. In case you're chili-curious, it boils down to two options - there's the red (dried, smoked) and the green ('raw') and then there's Christmas (a mix of the two). As I can't order on my own accord, I followed Veronica's lead and tested out the Christmas mix. The red was a sucker punch to my amateur New England taste buds, but the green, as with the stew, was just the right amount of heat, taste and sweetness. I'm hooked.

By morning, nursing a bit of a margarita hangover, we went back into town for more burritos and chili and a quick walk around in day light. As recommended by Veronica we ate at the Tia Sophia and had the best breakfast burrito - it's true - ever. Smothered in cheese and green chili there's no doubt that there was a party in my mouth and everyone was invited.

Oh, there was some culture too. We sped in and around the Georgia O'Keefe museum, tried on a cowboy hat or two, bought some smoked green chili salsa, fondled some Indian jewelry and hopped back in the car.

The trip from Santa Fe to Austin is long so we spent a 'Friday Night Lights' evening in Abilene, TX. Prior to our eight o'clock arrival I checked out some local websites for restaurant recommendations. When most sites offer up between 3 and 5 stars to buffet joints, I couldn't help but worry about what we would find. We settled on Alfredo's Mexican - an authentic hole in the wall that was delicious. We inhaled a few burritos and Dr. Pepper and flew to make a 9:50 showing of Pineapple Express (you can see where our priorities are). God it was stupid. But, considering a meal of fancy take out and a teenage-boy movie pick, it really seemed a quintessential night in Abilene.

I sense that from my first burrito in Santa Fe on out, that the rest of our trip will be a big 'ol meat fest and I welcome it with an open tum. We're a mere few hours away from our destination and looking forward to a frolic in a river and then (drum roll please) some AWEsome BBQ at The Salt Lick, as recommended by everyone who has touched Austin soil. I'm salivating just thinking about it.

We're only in Austin for a night, which seems scandalous I know, but we're on a mission and time is winding down (tear). Try to keep up.

Image closer: a shot of a Santa Fe street (that we totally walked down) and the central Cathedral

All the desert has to offer

We left the serenity of San Clemente and plowed right into the gaudy chaos of Las Vegas.

The best thing about Las Vegas was that The Hard Rock Hotel upgraded us to a suite. Indeed. The moment I stepped into the leather-walled, red velvet-curtained room I knew that the Hard Rock saw what was budding inside me all along - a badass mother-f*%@ker. When I strutted past the floor-to-ceiling decaled mirrors it might as well have been Slash looking back at me, which, considering the uncleanliness and length of my hair, is not actually that shocking.

Not to sound old, but Las Vegas was a little too much for me to handle. We ate, we walked, we milled around the slots trying to score free booze from scantily clad waitresses (did not pan out) and then passed out happily in our NYC apartment-sized bed.

Upon daybreak and with a taste for anthropological sightseeing R & I headed to Fremont Street, or the old Las Vegas strip. This was the underbelly, the grit and the original Vegas, but after parking in the new multi-level lot and walking under a mile-long canopy meant to block the glaring Nevada Sun we found that the Fremont Street of yesteryear was no longer. Nope. It has more than one Starbucks - need I say more?

Off to Zion we said - free of the lights and crowds we faced the loss of an hour as we head East with big hopes and slightly sleepy eyes. And Zion was BEE. U. TIF. FUL. The Tetons were incredible and majestic, but Zion is like nothing I've ever seen. A blue blue sky set against these red rocks that roll for miles. We walked the narrows, which is the best hike ever as it winds and bends with the canyons through a river of crystal clear water. We made it back to our camp sight just before sunset and prepared ourselves for a night of camping bliss. As we were still out of tent poles we had to purchase a new tent back in San Clemente and what we found was the Rolls Royce of tents: sleeps four, shoe door to keep away the wet stuff, rain net, and inside pockets for the odds and ends. We could nearly stand in it!

And then mother nature stepped in. Just after midnight this wind storm blew threw and took our fortress of water-resistant tarp with it. We rocked and rolled with these gail-force gusts and were kept up all the live long night contemplating when this weirdness might end. It didn't. We're pooped.

But no time to dwell! With 16 ounces of coffee in our systems we crossed over 500 miles south to Santa Fe where we will spend one splendid night with a former Kenyonite. She's promising 'the best margaritas' ever. Swoon.

To end: other people enjoying The Narrows at Zion

Eating our way down the California coast

A bit of a delay over here, but we're in the thick of SoCal and, in an attempt to blend in, are taking it slow.

But of course, not slow enough. We've seen the whole state in a matter of days. It is big, beautiful, foggy, hot and perfect - not all in that order.

How do you see a city like San Francisco when you have only one day? Extreme sightseeing.

Strap on your fanny packs, buckle those cameras onto your belt, tie a sweatshirt around your neck and head to Fisherman's Wharf. SF's answer to Times Square. It is seething with tourists and we blended in nicely, buying two tickets to the gray line San Francisco trolley tour. Yes, a trolley tour. Two and a half hours of sight-seeing bliss with Richard, our guide. It was great, it was lazy, it was freezing. We saw all the major sights: Presidio, the Golden Gate, all the beautiful houses and multiple neighborhoods.

Fresh off of the trolley and nearly locals we headed to North Beach for some authentic (read: massive) Italian subs. Still chewing the nub of crust from the sandwich we moved right into City Lights Books to see what all the fuss was about. Across the street we had some bubbly at Vesuvio and were bouncing out and into the China Town district just as soon as you could say Alan Ginsberg. Moving on to the Mission district we stopped into Petez Coffee for a personalized cuppa joe and then stepped into this delightful shop owned by former Brooklynites Derek & Lauren called The Curiosity Shoppe (check it out). Dinner was delicous at Ramblas - small plates, strong sangria and crazy good fresh-fried churros and warm chocolate dipping sauce (drool).

Quick to bed and early to rise R and I were back on the road heading down the long, windy and fog-stricken Route 1. Destination: Big Sur Bakery. Late brunch on a Saturday morning, but well worth the slightly nauseating trip - avocado and bacon omelet, white and black bean soup and a chocolate chip cookie that would make you weak in the knees.

Back on the 1 for some digestive scenery. I want to romanticize it, but honestly said picturesque-ness could not have moved along fast enough. Hours passed and we were still hanging on for dear life over death-defying cliffs with indifferent guard rails. I couldn't have been happier to see the highway - sweet, plain, speedy highway.

I won't go into the details of the later half of our trip down the coast of California but let me say this - it takes WAY longer than you think. Besides a quick and heavenly stop in Santa Barbara for some of the most authentic and awesome street Mexican food and a Jared Leto sighting (yes! Thankfully looking much more like Jordan Catalano than the weirdo in the band he thinks he's fronting) I don't think R or I would have made it down without ripping each others heads off.

Needless to say we were deliriously pleased to land at the wonderful home of my Aunt and Uncle who showed us a fantastically relaxing time in this low key, laid back place called San Clemente. The pace is much slower and I can dig. Today we spent a splendid day at the beach and just consumed a restaurant-worthy meal of California fare. Fabulous. I'm stuffed.

Tonight it's early to bed but not so quick to rise (we're still in S. Cali, after all). Tomorrow we will catch a few rays to hopefully even out my 'tan' and then head back 'round again. Back east via Las Vegas (among others) - I look forward to some desert kitch, good food, photo opps, fake Elvises and maybe, just maybe, a little bit 'o luck at the tables. And by tables I mean slots, and by slots I mean the keep-sake penny machines - you know the one where you drop a penny in and it comes out flattened and imprinted with the Eiffel tower/Brooklyn Bridge/Mount Rushmore on it? What can I say, I can't break the habit.

To close: an enviable photo of the San Clemente pier at sunset


TTFN
~L & R

California, where have you been?!

I LOVE this state.

We first crossed into California early yesterday morning and were once again blown away by what the west has to offer. The Redwoods are apparently the tallest trees in the world and, yes they live up to their reputation.

We parked, loaded our gear and headed into the woods for some backpacking. Serious stuff. Camping, I've realized, comes with small successes and failures. For example:

We succeeded in hiking the 4.5 mile path to the coastal campground, but failed to get there early enough to actually claim an area. But it wasn't a complete loss, as we ended up sharing a site with a father-son duo who were lovely and our new camping best friends.

Though we failed to pack our tent poles after our night in the Badlands, R succeeded in Macgyvering something resembling poles out of "camping gear" we found in the local Walmart.

The tent may have failed to stand upright, but we succeeded in getting into the tent for a few hours of sleep.

And of course, we did succeed in not being eaten by bears or mountain lions. Good stuff.

We huffed it back down the mountain trail this morning and hopped back in the car (because we can't get enough) for a drive down the 101.

As it is our theme to stay in each place/city/state for just a day or so, it makes sense that what would be an afternoon visit in the wine country north of San Francisco was, for us, a 15 minute stop-by at Summers Winery. We pulled into their sun-drenched parking lot a mere 12 minutes before they were set to close, but made it just in time to spend a pretty penny on some delicious wines.

Back in the car and after a very foggy introduction to this fabulous city, we have arrived at our destination - an A.DOR.ABLE apartment on loan to us while our friends are visiting Chicago (thank you James and Shari!).

Tonight we're off to indulge in some Pacific coast fare and then get to bed - this camping guru is pooped.

Some highlights from someone else's Redwoods backpacking vacation:

Standing beneath the very tall redwood trees


The foggy but still splendid pacific coast


~L & R

Camping in the CA Redwoods: yes this tree is bigger than my pack

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Float on...

This nomadic life continues. We were in and out of Portland in a day, but let me say that it was a fantastic 24 hours. Portland was totally new to R & I and it was incredibly appealing. Not only was the city accessible in size and the type of people it draws, but also in the essence of the city - built not on corporations but on independently-owned businesses.

As I mentioned before, we saw the city by bike - up and down and across the river and back. Throughout that journey we were took witness to hundreds of small boutique shops, stalls and restaurants in every quadrant of the city. We caught with friends from Kenyon, who are not only doing very cool things but the majority of them have started their own ventures. There's Abby who just started her own business in Portland called Your Natural Chef. Then there's Pat who is creating fabulous t shirts sold online and Tim started a dinner and alcohol-pairing series, which has really taken off.

It's all very impressive and inspirational, even. Suddenly, while strolling into a super quaint and adorable antique store I see myself creating a new line of hand-sewn bandannas, or photographing street signs for some sort of hilarious series of pins, no, stamps. I'm doing a lot so long as I stay in Portland.

But we don't, so I'm not. We've got places to go and more people to mooch off of, so my new endeavors will have to wait (though I'll let you know when those crocheted bandannas hit the market, no need to hold your breath).

But onwards an upwards. R & I drove an incredibly quick four hours down to the crazy cute town of Shady Creek, OR. We arrived just in time to catch a trip up to the head of the river so that we may 'funyak' down to the bottom. Three hours of lazy, sun-drenched bliss. It was delightful. Only delayed slightly because everyone in this town is incredibly, incredibly high, but when you have no agenda, that affliction is suddenly, surprisingly endearing.

After our epic river float we met up with R's friend Jason who works for the Forest Services here in Oregon - yes he's like fighting forest fires. We bbq-d by the river and watched the meteor shower. It's a pretty ridiculous visit. I cannot believe where we are right now and I have to type fast and get back out to watch the rest of the star-works.

Tomorrow we're off to the Redwoods for some camping. The fact that we left the tent poles back in the Badlands is really only a hiccup - I'm sure my time in Portland had a subconscious-talent-enducting effect and within the three hour drive down I will have fashioned new tent poles out of masking tape and a string bikini.

Stay tuned...

~ L & R

Portland via bike

Today was a Portland day. We were lucky enough to borrow bikes from our hosts and hit the town. We biked over the river to the west side, hit up the very awesome Powells books, where we walked off with a half dozen that were added to R's already full pack.

Next up, we got a walking tour from a Kenyon alum, then headed back over the river to the very hip North East side for some lunch with our Kenyon host. After that it was more biking in and through all the fantastic (very Brooklyn-y) neighborhoods and then back 'home.'

Exhausted, but at least now clean, we're about to stroll back over the river - perhaps testing out the public transport - for some browsing, dinner and drinks with more Kenyon peeps, because that's how we roll.

Here's a photo of (not) R & I biking:



and here's a photo of downtown Portland, so if you put the two together, you get the general idea:



TTFN
~L & R