Having a Whale of a Time

*Warning: this blog entry is full to the bream with appalling fishy puns.

Leaving Denver, Mike thought it might be interesting to consider a side trip via Guantanamo Bay, although an orange jumpsuit is not his look. We were lined up at security at Denver Airport behind an old guy in a wheelchair. His family was not allowed into the security area, so this bloke was struggling with the multiple bags hanging off his chair and person, while trying to wheel himself one-handed. Mike stepped in and helped him out with his bags. By now the security staff made the assumption that Mike was his companion and demanded that he remove the bloke’s shoes. I was on the point of saying that a) we don’t know this bloke so don’t push your luck, and b) what harm could a disabled old bloke do with his shoes?, but decided that silence was the best policy. After Mike went through the X-ray, he was taken aside by security and quizzed about the contents of the old bloke’s bags, which gave him the opportunity to say that he didn’t actually know this bloke from a bar of soap. Which lead to more questions about why Mike was helping him….thankfully they accepted Mike’s explanation, as it turned out that the old bloke was actually carrying a pair of brass knuckles which are an illegal weapon in Colorado! He was whisked away for further questioning and fitting for his jumpsuit, while we were free to go. That is after I was briefly detained for having a snotty tissue in my trouser pocket which I had to present for inspection – more fool them, I say!

What a relief to arrive in Canada and be back in the Commonwealth where common-sense reigns, and a decent cup of tea is a possibility. We stayed briefly in Victoria, a beautiful waterfront city on Vancouver Island and enjoyed glorious weather for the evening. We wandered around the harbour enjoying the sight of seaplanes landing and taking off at the waterfront – they had to dodge kayaks, ferries and the occasional seal making for an interesting runway. Next day we caught the bus to Campbell River halfway up the island, meeting the ferry to Quadra Island to join our kayak buddies for our Johnstone Strait Kayak trip. 

The trip started with a 3 hour water taxi ride to West Craycroft Island, the location of our camp. There are many narrow channels that funnel water through at great speed with whirlpools making for a rough ride – I had to salmon up the will not to puke. On the way up we saw our first orca which was very exciting. Our base camp was set up on a rocky outcrop with tent platforms overlooking Johnstone Strait and the Robson Bight Orca sanctuary. We were greeted by a river otter sitting on a floating log below our tent, eating a fish – we were otterly surprised to see it up so close. The camp was super, comfy spacious tents, endless yummy food, hot shower on demand, a hot tub and reasonably luxurious long-drop loo which they named the Turd Aquarium. All in all it was an extremely well orca-nised operation.  The only downside was that the kayaks were a little cold and wet, but then again you can’t have your kayak and heat it too.

On with the paddling. We did a series of paddles from the camp, heading up and down Johnstone Strait. On one of the days we did a walk up to an Orca research viewing platform, from where we saw our only other sighting of orcas – 2 brothers who hang out together. We didn’t see any other orcas for the whole trip, which was a little disappointing –perhaps they were avoiding us on porpoise? But still, we wouldn’t have missed it for squids. We spent some time paddling about the intertidal zones to get a good look at sea-life including the very weird and creepy sunflower sea-stars which have up to 26 legs and are voracious eating machines. Other wildlife sightings included lots of Bald Eagles, seals, dolphins, sea urchins and lots jumping fish. All this fun in the outdoors sure got our natural endolphins going! 

Being dropped off in the rain

Our guide doesn't take much Urchin on to make a silly hat.

A Kling-on

Sunflower Sea Star

When not paddling, we amused ourselves by eating far too much and too often, wearing silly hats, hot tubbing and games of giant Jenga, which morphed into extreme Jenga – aiming to make the tower as big and precarious as possible. Just for the halibut we waved at the cruise ship we will be on in a couple of weeks as it travelled past – sods didn’t wave back, probably all in the casino or at the buffet.

Keeping it weird

Mike's kayak has the water on the wrong side

Radiance of the Sea, the ship we will be sailing on in a few weeks. Passes by our tent. No-one waved though

After the kayak trip we drove across Vancouver Island for a couple of days in Tofino on the wild west coast. The locals were all blissing out as the temperature topped 25 degrees with sunshine – normally it is bleak, windy and raining. We did a whale watching trip seeing some humpbacks and grey whales, followed by some kayaking in the calm inlets of Clayoquot Sound (you think we’d have had enough?). What a beautiful place! Next day was bear-spotting day, with 2 black bears turning up to be viewed from the safety of the boat – no need for hideous codforsaken singing and bl***dy bells! We visited Tofino Chocolates to purchase a hand-made chocolate bear which was choc-full of chocolate sea creatures – fish, starfish and shells. Such a shame to have to eat it! It must be said that the food and coffee in Canada is so much better than in America!

Humpback lunge feeding

A Fluke shot- Californian Grey Whale

The view from our Tofino balcony

On to Alaska to see if Sarah Palin is home……….

Rocky Mountain High

Our final week in the Lower 48 States was spent in the beautiful Rocky Mountains (cue John Denver soundtrack). The Rocky Mountain National Park is breathtaking, both figuratively and literally – being between 8,000  and 12,000 feet of altitude lets your lungs work a bit harder than at sea-level. We are still in the heart of cowboy country, noting on our way to the National Park a church called “God’s Country Cowboy Church”. I was going to suggest a Men’s ministry called “Chaps Welcome”.

We stayed in Estes Park, at the entrance to the National Park and were there over the 4^th July holiday. Town was therefore really crowded, with festivities including fireworks, a “Patriotic” concert and another car show (our favourite thing!). There were many many tacky souvenir shops mostly selling T-shirts, interspersed with cowboy grills, a shop specialising in giant belt buckles (no, Mike wouldn’t buy one) and ice-cream shops galore.  We saw a drive-thru coffee shop advertising that it is the “Home of the Chicken Fried Latte”. We were way too scared to investigate this.

We escaped to the relative quiet of the National Park, doing a walk in the Bear Lake area which included a number of beautiful perched lakes. We spent most of the walk at around 10,000 feet so going uphill was a slow affair, with many scenic stops to admire the view and allow my lungs to catch up.  Coming down to a waterfall we heard loud shrieking which was a little alarming. A couple of women walking towards us said cryptically “oh, that will be Amy”. Huh? Our curiosity was soon satisfied as we rounded the corner to find a couple passionately kissing near a big sign saying “Amy, marry me”. She said yes, apparently.

Dream Lake - Rocky Mountain National Park

Mills Lake- Rocky MNP

Alberta Falls. Amy says "yes"

Next day we drove the Trail Ridge Road through the park, this being the highest paved road in North America topping out at 12, 183 feet. It includes some sheer drops, but happily a few more guardrails and road shoulders than other roads we have driven on. I did have to stop several times to disengage my fists from the steering wheel.  We saw a magnificent male elk with a large rack of antlers, and thought this would make an excellent trophy above the telly. Perhaps that would be a little gauche?

Life on the edge.

How is it that when we hate edges so much we just keep finding them?

Trail Ridge Rd - RMNP

Pika (not Pickachu for the gamers out there, but looks somewhat similar without being yellow).

Moving right along, we headed south for Snowmass, a ski resort high in the Rockies, near Aspen. At this time of year it is turned over to hikers and mountain bikers. When planning the trip, we had in mind that we could do some mountain biking; however after seeing rider after rider roaring down the slopes with full face helmets and body armour we decided this was well out of our league. Instead we did a great hike to Maroon Bells and were fortunate to see a moose with calf hiding in the shrubbery.  Mike was busy being enthralled by the airport with row after row of private jets. It seemed like there were hundreds. We didn’t see any matching celebrities, but never mind.

Maroon Bells (for the colour blind).

For the non colour blind.

Columbine flower.

Aspens at Aspen.

Moose Mum watches.

On our last morning we went white-water kayaking in “duckies” – inflatable single person rafts, which was a heap of fun. I developed a particular talent for finding rocks to get beached on. Trying to avoid some ‘traffic’ I got myself well and truly stuck on a pile of rocks at the entrance to a chute of water. Everyone else in the group, including Mike, paddled along, crashed into me, bounced off and sailed merrily down the chute, wedging me higher and higher on the rock with each crash. I jiggled and rocked and pushed and pulled and bounced to no avail, just had to wait for one of the guides to come and rescue me. I was “beached as, bro” (no-one even offered me a chp).

Near the end of the trip, we pulled into the side so that the guide could explain how we were going to negotiate the waterfall. Sorry, what was that? A waterfall? What do you mean WATERFALL?????? (cue sound of internal organs loosening). I made it through by the seat of my Big Girl Pants – actually it wasn’t as bad as it was made out to be.

Action Girl entering the waterfalls.

Mike coming out the bottom of the falls.

Our trip was slightly marred by the presence of America’s Rudest Woman. So far the Americans we have met have been overwhelmingly friendly, polite and lovely people. This woman was something else. After a couple of rapids we stopped to regroup and she complained loudly that she was miserable because she was getting wet. I hate to break it to you Pet, but water will do that. Against advice from the guides, she and her (longsuffering) husband insisted on taking a double kayak – this takes co-ordination and teamwork, not easy for novice paddlers, particularly in white water. As you can imagine it was a disaster, and at one point got very dangerous as they barrelled at high speed into a head height log and flipped over. They survived, one of the guides took Madam into her boat and left Hubby to his own devices. Whereupon Madam spent the time berating him over and over for his incompetence (like, she was a total expert – NOT).  At the end of the trip I saw her struggling to get her wetsuit off so thought I would be kind and assist. I noticed she was trying to get the wetsuit off over her boots, which was never going to end well. Just to make it more difficult she hadn’t unzipped the legs of the wetsuit. I suggested that she might take her boots off first, but she turned on me in a rage, hissing at me that she couldn’t have done that because her boots were under her wetsuit. I slowly backed away, wondering if it would have been a good idea to have brought the bear spray after all. It brought to mind the Far Side cartoon of a man sitting on the edge of the bed looking at a big sign saying “Pants first, then shoes”.  Oh dearie me.

This afternoon we drove back into Denver passing through the town of Gypsum, which caused us to wonder if they spend their weekends getting plastered?

That wraps up another Circuit of our trip. We’re 3 months in, still having a great time and still talking to each other! We are about to go to Canada and Alaska, first stop Johnstone Strait to go sea kayaking with orcas. Mike assured me that he ticked the “orca sighting” box on the booking form. So we shall see.

Fasten your seatbelts, it’s the All American Road Trip!

This is a big one, so you might want to make a cuppa first.

Leaving the Grand Tetons, we travelled east towards the Wild West. After crossing the Continental Divide for the 4^th time in 2 days, we mysteriously entered a portal transporting us into Arizona, or so it would appear. It was really weird going from alpine meadows into Grand Canyon-like terrain with no warning. The portal centre was the town of Dubois, which was full of Big Things such as the Big Elk and the main attraction, The Big Jackalope. Mike took the opportunity to have a ride. The Jackalope, according to local knowledge, is a cross between an extinct pygmy deer and a species of killer rabbit. You can get a hunting licence which is only valid for June 31^st, and only if you have an IQ less than 72.   

What happened to the alpine meadows?

Yeehah Cowboy

We continued across the plains of Wyoming, miles and miles of sparseness and oil derricks. We passed through a town which boasted that it was the “Home of Oiler Pride”. Nice. Our destination for the evening was Casper, Wyoming which by all appearances was a roughneck cowboy and oil town. We found its soft and caring underbelly as we wandered the nearly deserted streets. We came across special park benches accessible for the seating-challenged cowboy, and a horse fitted with leg-warmers, essential for this mountain location. There is WiFi access so that cowboys can text while riding. We thought we would be restricted to yet more steak / burgers, but no (Hallelujah!!), Casper provided us with the best meal we have had in 3 months – at a Thai restaurant of all places.

Park bench for cowboys

Park bench for normal people

Don't text while riding

Next destination was the Devil’s Tower, featured in the movie “Close Encounters of the Third Kind”, for those of you old enough to remember. It’s quite extraordinary, sticking up like a sore thumb. We took a walk around the base, interesting to see how it changes from different angles. It seemed to have a special force-field that attracted a lot of bikers, most particularly elderly bald men with silly little ponytails (oh for a pair of shears!), muscle shirts and their leather vests stretched to breaking point over their guts.

Close to the tower is a very large “Prairie Dog Town”, with many very cute inhabitants. We met the Sheriff of Prairie Dog Town, who gave Mike a long lecture of squeaks and whistles. In a surprisingly Ninja Moment, Sheriff let out a big squeak and leapt into the air. Not sure what that was about really, maybe he was just overjoyed to see us. Or constipated. He let us take his photo.

With such short arms, its difficult to get the quick draw

Moving right along, we visited the Geographical Centre of the Nation at Belle Fourche. We told them about the Centre of the Universe being in Wallace Idaho, but they didn’t believe us.

We drove through the Black Hills of South Dakota to the Very Wild West Town of Deadwood, home of Calamity Jane, Wild Bill Hickok, Preacher Smith and Potato Creek Johnny. They would be proud that the town has kept up its tacky reputation. We visited the cemetery and the graves of Jane and Bill. There was a fascinating list of causes of death from that era which included the usual shootings and animal mishaps, a cause listed as “God Knows”, and another as “a Broken Hump Bone”. But take a moment of silence to think about poor John Crummins whose cause of death was listed as “14 Hard Boiled Eggs”.  Possibly shell-shock?  I’m not yolking.

Wild Bill's grave next to Calamity Jane.

Next stop was Mt Rushmore, a site of American Pilgrimage. Timing our visit just before 4^th July in school holidays was probably not so wise on account of the Pilgrims, but couldn’t be helped. Small children were losing the plot left, right and centre. Mt Rushmore is very impressive, and it is really amazing to hear the stories of the men who built it. Initially the plan was conceived in an attempt to improve the South Dakotan economy by attracting tourists and getting them to empty their wallets. The initial proposal was Wild West Heroes (Jane and Bill again). The sculptor decided to try to bring some meaning to the project by insisting on American Presidents. But the idea to make money is still going strong - you should just see the tacky souvenirs you can buy!  Another interesting thing is that you can buy ice-cream made from Thomas Jefferson’s own recipe. TJ penned the American Constitution and an Ice-cream recipe – both documents have been instrumental in shaping America, the latter quite literally.

Down the road is Crazy Horse, the Native American answer to Mt Rushmore with an enormous carving of the warrior Crazy Horse, sitting on his horse. The carving started in 1948 and the only thing that is finished is Crazy Horse’s face. They have a long, long way to go.

A highlight of any American Road Trip is a visit to Wall Drug. This was started as a Pharmacy in 1931 in the tiny town of Wall, South Dakota. As a means to get people to stop they started offering free iced water. From these humble beginnings developed a gloriously tacky tourist trap which takes up almost 2 blocks, with souvenir shops, fast food, singing racoons, a bellowing T-Rex, a piano-playing gorilla, cowboy boot shops, a gold mine and lots more. Mike indulged his new hobby of Jackalope riding. Oh, and somewhere in there is a small pharmacy. My word, the excitement.

Just remember this is a pharmacy.

This is a pharmacy right?

Are you sure this is a pharmacy?

We stopped in at the South Dakota Air and Space Museum, which was more interesting for one of us than the other. There were displays about the Minuteman Missile program - Sth Dakota is full of missile silos so they can fire on the Russians (or anyone else) as needed.

A short trip through the South Dakota Badlands took us on our way back to our lodgings in Keystone. 

I looked for the police station in Keystone, so I could get a photo of the Keystone Cops, but there is only a Pennington County Sheriff so that was no good. We had our worst meal of the trip in Keystone, being boiled salmon with overdone broccoli, left in the bain-marie to dry out and cool down. Bewdiful.

Saw a sign for “Nature in Action Taxidermy”. Perhaps nature would demonstrate more action if it wasn’t stuffed.

A final word from Wyoming: Never trust cheese that comes out of a tap.