When I pushed off and the kayak slid into the water I was hoping she wouldn’t sink on the spot. It was overloaded with food and equipment for my ten day trip though Clayoquot Sound.

My kayak is seventeen feet long, with two large bulkheads in the bow and stern. These were fully packed and I had the overflow in the cockpit, but at least I didn’t have to lash anything to the deck.

I estimated I had 80 pounds of equipment stuffed in every nook and cranny of my boat; food for ten plus days, camping and cooking equipment, clothing, safety and paddle equipment. Plus a few luxuries, including some sneaky beers tucked away. One thing that saved me; I didn’t need to bring much water as there were plenty of streams along my route.


First camp

Sunset at first camp

I held my breath as I launched into the cold Pacific. The waterline was high but not dangerous. She handled like a barge, she was running slow and sluggish, went through waves instead of bobbing over them. But the weight distribution was good and she seemed seaworthy enough to make it to the first camp. I swung the bow north and headed off on my adventure. Continue reading

Categories: Americas, Clayoquot Sound, BC - August 2016 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment

Back to my late ways


Over the past few years I had got better about getting to the kayak launch site at a reasonable time. This trip, I reverted to my old ways, arriving in the middle of the night before a early launch.

It’s a long trip to Clayoquot sound, BC. with a border crossing and a ferry trip, so lots of opportunity to get delayed. It should take 8 hours if everything went right; If things didn’t go right, it could take hours more. My first problem is getting out of the house. Wrapping up work, packing last minute things, triple-checking I have everything. I don’t hit the road until 1:30pm.

Not far out of town, I’m in stop-and-go traffic caused by a accident, not the best start. That clears up but just half an hour later a fatal accident closes down the interstate. So I take the back roads through the countryside to a small border crossing way off my original route. Finally over the border and into Canada, and it’s taken two hours longer than it should have.

I catch the 8:15pm ferry over to Vancouver Island; it’s a two hour crossing with a three hour drive after that. Whatever; I’m resigned to the fact that I’m way behind schedule. I go up to the top deck and take a seat. It’s a beautiful twilight, with a deep red sunset over the Straight of Georga. At this point I am good, whenever I’m on this ferry it means vacation, plus the food is good and I am starving.

Next up is a long, windy road through an endless, evergreen forest, over the hills to the rugged coast, through the darkness. Finally I arrive, find a parking lot near the beach, pull out my sleeping bag, recline the seat and try to get some sleep. It is 1:30am. and I have to be awake at 6:30am.

Launch, finally

Finally launching, Tofino

Driving late and sleeping in the car is something I’ve done for years. It’s not ideal, but adrenaline makes up for the lack of sleep. I was fine in the morning but would pay for it later in the trip.

It feels like a tradition for me showing up in the middle of the night and sleeping in the car. But it’s a crappy tradition, one I wish I could kick.

Categories: Americas, Clayoquot Sound, BC - August 2016 | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment




I moved to Seattle in 1994 when Ken Griffey Jr. was in the prime of his career; I often went to see him and the Mariners play at the KingDome. I watched in amazement at Griffey’s sweet swing, his reckless defense and the Mariner’s historic playoff run in 1995. Whenever I see him or highlights from his old days, it brings me back to my early years in Seattle.

I have always wanted to visit The Baseball Hall of Fame. So when Griffey got voted in this year, in his first year of eligibility and receiving the most votes ever for a player inducted to The Hall, it seemed like the perfect time to make the pilgrimage to Cooperstown, NY.

We flew into NYC and drove through the back roads of upstate New York, through the beautiful Catskills, past picturesque old farming towns to our remote destination. We arrived on Main Street just in time for the parade of Hall of Fame Legends. The normally sleepy town was overflowing with rabid baseball fans watching a strange parade of baseball players in the back of pick-up trucks rolling down the street.

Pedro, Pedro !!

Pedro, Pedro !!

There were baseball fans from around the country and every team was represented. There was no animosity, Yankees and Red Sox fans side by side, chatting and watching the parade. It was a celebration of baseball; we were in Cooperstown and everyone was a winner.




The following morning we laid down a blanket on the field to watch the Induction Ceremony with 50,000 of our fellow fans. The sun was out in full force, it was over 90 degrees and humid. But that was of no concern; we were there!

As they played highlights of The Kid’s career on the big screen, I could remember them all. Goosebumps formed, it was as if I was back in Seattle in twenty years ago. Griffey started his speech and immediately choked up. As tears tears flowed down his face, sweat poured down mine. It was amazing to see the usually care-free Griffey so emotional.



I laid back in the grass and listened to him speak, the intense sun causing me to hallucinate. I drifted back to the days of listening to Dave Niehaus calling the game on the crackling radio in my 1984 Tercel; Playing pool and watching the Mariner’s game at the Comet Tavern. Wherever you were, whatever you were doing, everything came to a pause when Griffey came to bat. Nothing else mattered and he proved anything was possible.

Categories: Americas, Cooperstown - July 2016 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Canada Day

Capital building BC

BC Parliament building

We were in Victoria BC for my friend’s surprise birthday party, which happened to be on Canada Day. On July 1 1870, Canada and England made a gentleman’s agreement and parted ways and what we know now as Canada emerged. It wasn’t celebrated at first, but now it is almost as popular with Canadians as the NHL Finals as a Holiday; there were fireworks over the harbor and so the streets were filled with celebrating Canucks.

We passed a local bar I vaguely remembered, Big Bad Johns, and had some time before the party, so we stopped in for a refreshment. The dingy, dark wood-paneled bar had a floor covered with peanut shells, bras hanging from the ceiling signed by their previous owners and bar stools filled with hardened drinkers. Craft cocktails here? Jack and coke.

The three women sitting next to us were getting in the spirit.

Big Bad Johns

An old woman slowly walked through the bar with a white cane, tapping it back and forth in front of her. I didn’t think much of it. Some time later, classic rock came on the jukebox and the blind women wandered by with a shaggy, hobo-chic man. She suddenly grabbed him by the hand and started dancing furiously. Drunken patrons cheered and clapped. Screeching at top volume, she pulled and spun the stumbling man. I wondered where the cane went.

A loud man with long greasy hair was at the bar cutting the sleeves off a bar T-shirt. He then took off his own CBGB shirt and gave it to a random women standing next to him. I (and she) had no clue what was going on there, but an unfortunate thing; he forgot to pull up his pants. One of those things, once you see it, you can’t un-see it.



When it was time to leave for the party, I was reluctant; This was the kind of place where you have no idea what was going to happen next. The night was young and I think the craziness had only just begun; The one thing in common with all the riff-raff in this bar: It was Canada Day and they were ready to party.

Victoria harbor.

Victoria harbor.

Categories: Americas, Victoria - July 2016 | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment

Down the river

Irrawaddy river

Irrawaddy river

On our first night night in Myanmar, we were staying in a floating hotel on the Irrawaddy River, just outside of Mandalay. The taxi from the airport dropped us off riverside; It was a half mile wide with fast-flowing brown water. Dilapidated boats of all sizes were tied up to the muddy river bank, many housing families with their drying clothes hanging from boat lines. All the boats were rusted, dreary and listing. All except one, our hotel. The Karaweik Floating Hotel. It looked like a traditional Royal Barge, on acid: Gold, multi-level with white life-size elephant statues and two massive mythical birds on it’s bow, covered in lights. It looked like it just floated in from Vegas.

Hotel. .. Name

Karaweik Floating Hotel.

We walked down the gangplank and into the lobby where a Burmese wedding had just happened. The bride was in a colorful long-flowing dress and fancy, sparkly heeled flip-flops covered in fake gem stones. The men wore dress shirts with longyi, the traditional long dress worn by men. They also wore flip flop without the bling. They were all excitedly running about the lobby and through the hallways.




When we managed to get to the front desk, they asked if we were here for the cruise. Confused, we answered that we were are staying at the hotel. “OK, but you can go on the two hour cruise if you want to. We leave in a hour.”

On board Elephant

On board Elephant

This was news to us, clearly if we had arrived an hour later we would have seen our hotel sail off downriver. There was no mention of this when we had booked.
The rest of our conversation at the front desk was lost in translation. Neither side had any understanding of the other. The bell boy was clearly confused from the start. Now the woman behind the desk kept trying to order us a cab, “you want a taxi now?”.

Conversations went back and forth but somehow we got checked in and got the room key. The room was nice with dark teak walls, with a door opening up onto the deck with a table and chairs overlooking the river. Inside was a table with fruit, two life preservers and a TV with only a few channels. The local channel was an out-of-focus close up of a monk chanting. There was also a K-pop station, Korean MTV. These two channels could not have been any different.

Robes and life perservers

Robes and life perservers

In the evening we went up to the dining room as the nightly puppet show was just finishing up. Two puppeteers stood behind a small screen and manipulated strings as the puppets jerked and flailed about. Local songs played over the outdated, fuzzy sound system. Strange is the only way to describe this spectacle.

Puppet show

Puppet show

The show ended and the two families watching, left. We were the only ones in a room with a dozen large empty tables around us. So we ordered booze to go and the waiter insisted on ceremoniously leading us to our room with the beer and a bowl of fruit on a tray. We sat drinking on the deck and made a plan for the following day while watching the Irrawaddy River flow by.


River side.

After the first night in Myanmar we felt that we were not just in a different country but we were on a different planet.

It was full of surprises and contradictions. The first of many was the floating hotel, it was just inexplicably strange; Twilight Zone plus David Lynch strange. The dirt-colored river was disconcerting. The staff was bizarre. I had nightmares about the puppet show.

We loved it; It was everything we had hoped for Myanmar.

After our first night in Myanmar, we realized we weren’t in Kansas anymore

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , | Leave a comment


Sunset on the train, myanmar.

Sunset on the train, Myanmar

I always like to indulge in the local brew when I travel. On our last trip I began an appreciation of SE Asian beers; even though they are seldom cold and taste more like a bud than a local craft beer. But they are surprisingly refreshing in the heat and so in every country we visited (six total), I tried every local beer I could get my hands on.


Hanoi beer

In Vietnam there was Biere La Rue and Saigon Beer. In Hanoi there is an area named Beer Corner that sounded right up my alley. So we walked through the maze of narrow streets to get a ‘Fresh’ beer, or two. The area was packed with people and tiny cafes with tables that spilled out onto the sidewalk. We sat down on short plastic stools at a small plastic table and watched the throngs of young Vietnamese parade down the street.

Beer Hanoi

Beer corner,  Hanoi

Myanmar Beer came in 40-ouncer’s and were dirt cheap but always served lukewarm. I brought an ample supply of Myanmar 40’s for our 16 hour train trip. Drank a few warm ones on the slow boat down the Irrawaddy River. Had some delivered to our hotel room in Mandalay. It was over 100 degrees every day; warm Myanmar saved me.

Maybe a few too many Myanmar beers

Maybe a few too many Myanmar beers


Lion beer

Lion beer, Kandy, Sri Lanka

Sri Lanka had Lion Beer, my favorite. Light and crisp and with only a few Sri Lankan beers to choose from, Lion it was. Lions are not indigenous to Sri Lanka, but they are the symbolic symbol of the country, a mythical lion adorns their flag. On our last night in SE Asia we had dinner in Galle and they only had Heineken. What, no Lion? I was appalled. But I forced down a few, against my will.


Chang in Bangkok

Back at home now, drinking ice-cold, organic, craft, small batch, farm to table IPAs. They’re nice, but I still have a soft spot for those warm Myanmar 40-ouncers.

On the boat on Halong bay, Vietnam

Halong Bay beer, on the boat, Vietnam

Overnight train to Hanoi

Overnight train to Hanoi


Saigon Beer in Ho Chi Minh City

On the plane.

Chinese beer on the plane to Beijing

Monkey ???

Monkey beer???

Tinssao ice beer. China.

Tsingtao Ice at the Great Wall, China.


dan Nag, Vietnam

Tiger in DaNang, Vietnam


La Rue beer, HoiAn, Vietnam

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , | 1 Comment




We packed light for this trip. We were going to be away for four weeks, so I had planned to pack six pairs of undies and do laundry, but I couldn’t count and ended up with only five. This turned out to be an issue, especially on our grand tour of Sri Lanka.

It was stupid hot, over 100 degrees, so all clothing, especially undies, had to be washed often; No wearing them inside out for the second day. So I had to wash them in the sink and hang them around the room to dry. I’d dry them on the balcony, on the chairs, in the shower. Half the time it was too humid and they wouldn’t really dry and I would have to stuff them in my pack damp.

In Sri Lanka, Helen, Rachel and I shared a room in basic guest houses, a kind of Sri Lankan B&B. Now Helen is used to my underwear lying all over the place. But poor Rachel had to endure my undies flung all over the room; Walking into the bathroom first thing in the morning and having to negotiate around my underpants.

I think she may now be suffering from PTSD.

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , | Leave a comment




When we landed at Colombo, Sri Lanka and took a taxi to the hotel, there was hardly anyone on the road. I was half expecting Delhi-style traffic chaos. We checked into the hundred-year-old Grand Oriental Hotel, which had seen better days. A few hotel employees were in the lobby intently watching the tv, which was playing a repeating infomercial of the hotel. Very Strange. Needless to say, it took a lot longer than it should have to check in. All very similar to India, but not quite as crazy; Sri Lanka was India-light.

Some of the similarities and differences I noticed:

Tuk tuk. The Sri Lankan 3 wheel taxi

Tuk tuk. The Sri Lankan 3 wheel taxi

1. For being a laid-back people, Sri Lankans are aggressive, reckless drivers. Anything goes on the road. The main difference to India is that there are less sacred cows all over the road.

Size matters, so buses rule the road. Many buses are privately owned so race well over the speed limit, looking for fares. Cars and scooters get pushed off the road and bicyclists must have a suicide wish. It’s a free-for-all; they cut each other off and come within inches of hitting you.

With all the chaos you would think there would be fist fights in the intersections. But no; no road rage, no dirty looks, just quick beeps of the horn.

2. Good food; The cuisine is fresh, with lots of Indian influenced tapas-like small plates.



The most prevalent dish is curry. Every meal has curry, even for breakfast; Curry of every type: lentil, coconut, fruit. All spicy but not blazing hot.

The Sri Lankan fruit was amazing; pineapple, mango, papaya and odd shaped tiny bananas. I was eating it with both hands whenever fruit appeared on the table.



3. Both Sri Lankans and Indians do the ‘head bobble’. This is when they tilt their head quickly from side to side and it can mean several things. I deciphered a few:

A) “Ok, but I’m not happy about it”. For example, when we told the women at the hotel that we had a change of plans and could only stay one night, not two, she gave us a big, slow, silent bobble, and then she said “ok.”

B) “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I got this one a lot. This is usually a continually rolling bobble, followed with a blank stare.
C) Most of the time, the head bobble means something between “Maybe” and “Whatever”.

I have quickly adopted the head bobble; It comes naturally to me. I have bobbled a few times even after I returned to the states. I hope it sticks.

Gale, Sri Lanka.

Galle, Sri Lanka.



Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , | Leave a comment

Travel karma

We were taking the long overnight train from Bagan to Yangon, Myanmar. We booked the tickets weeks before for one of the old beat-up British sleeper cars with four sleeper berths. The conductor opened the door, and an English couple were already inside, and he said, “actually we booked all four spots in this car”. The conductor looked at all our tickets, the carriage had been double-booked. The Englishman said again, “We booked all four spots, so sorry”. Clearly there were only 2 of them; We both gave him a look; that’s not going to happen. I thought to myself what a #!?! Was he just going to leave fellow travelers on the platform when they had two spots open? Luckily, before it all kicked off, the conductor looked at his clip-board, and motioned us to the next car that had beds available.

Sleeper car

Sleeper car

We settled in and a nice kid from Singapore joined us and we chatted about our travels around Myanmar. Later, we were all ready to try and get some sleep, when the train made a stop. I stuck my head out the window and noticed two young local men get into the carriage of our friends next door, the door shut and the train immediately departed. Looks like the young English couple was going to have some company for the evening after all. There was no way to leave the car once the train was moving and there wasn’t another stop until mid-morning.

When the train finally arrived in Yangon, as we passed their carriage, I slowed and took a peek in. The carriage looked well-worn and the women was still packing, looking disheveled and exhausted. She saw me out the window and I gave her a big smile; travel karma got you!

Sunset on the train. Good karma

Sunset on the train. Good karma

Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , , | 1 Comment

Crazy train

The rail system in Myanmar was built by British in the late 1940s and has fallen into disrepair over the decades. It is notoriously slow, always late and an extremely rough ride. We were taking the overnight train from Bagen to Yangon, a seventeen hour ride through the jungles of Burma.

Sleeper carriage

Sleeper carriage

We climbed aboard and were joined by a 20-something kid from Singapore. Together we checked out our home for the night; The 50-year old ‘upper-class’ sleeper carriage had four seats underneath a sleeping shelf on each side. With a fight, the seats could be turned into a bed. It had a bathroom with a sink with no water and when you opened up the toilet lid there was just a hole through the floor to the tracks below. We opened the windows wide, were pleasantly surprised when the ceiling fan worked; the train seemed relatively comfortable for being a rolling antique.



At the station, we had loaded up on the essentials; water, snacks and beer. We got out the books, camera and sustenance out and settled in for the long trip.



The train slowly groaned to a start, bumping along the track. It certainly was not a bullet train, we were traveling at about 25 mph. Looking out the window we saw small farms with grass and mud-brick homes. Small kids would stand by the tracks and wave as we passed. We didn’t see a car or paved road for hours.

Sleeping shelf

Sleeping shelf

We tried to sleep on the upper bunks; basically enlarged luggage racks. Every time I drifted off, I was jolted awake by what sounded like someone banging on the floor with a sledgehammer. During the night you’d be woken by the train alarmingly rocking and rolling from side to side; it was like sleeping through a massive earthquake. You were bounced inches in the air off the bed, slammed into the wall and then almost thrown right off. I resorted to sleeping on my stomach, arms and legs outstretched, like a starfish.

We arrived at Yangon almost two hours late. We were tired and dazed, but OK considering we had just been trapped in an over-sized washing machine for nineteen hours. Then we stepped off the train into 106 degree heat.



Categories: SE Asia - March 2016 | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

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