A little more Aloha

Ok, Hawaii has more than beaches, volcanoes and pineapples, as incorrectly described in my last post. Well there is spam. And there are rainforests. And I concluded that GPS doesn't work in Hawaii as I met numerous people who were trying to find themselves. And the answer to global warming may be the tapping of the ubiquitous energy vortices all around the islands.

Hawaii is truly a state of mind, which can get high based on breathing the fumes from volcanoes or weed.

Hiking in a rainforest is scary. I have probably hiked over a thousand miles of trails in CA. I'm at ease in the clean, manicured forests of northern CA where everything is well behaved. In a rainforest, everything is out to get you. Insects, reptiles, plants with thorns, plants with weird oils that make you itch, plants that look plain evil. But since I was in Hawaii and since I like hiking, I had to hike in a rainforest. The rainforests of Hawaii are more welcoming. It is said that the plants and animals of Hawaii lost most of their defense mechanisms (aka scary features) because there was very little competition on these isolated islands. Until of course man arrived and all hell broke loose. But don't be put off by those nasty tropical plants. A hike in a lush forest is a spiritual experience. The strong aroma from the trees and the wet earth, the chirping of countless birds and critters and the bright green all around mixes up for a wonderful cocktail that quietens the busy mind and relaxes the weary body. Until of course something crawls up my leg.

After all the nature and man v/s wild experiences, I decided I should feed my non existent cultured side by attending a luau at an expensive resort.

How apt to reenact a rather primitive culture on the manicured lawns of a 5 star beach resort? The food was delicious and the hula dancing enchanting. Boy, those hips don't lie. They tell a story, I'm told. I wasn't sure how to read a story from a dance, but those gyrations did spin a tale. After a few Mai Tais, my mind wandered and pondered on the way rich people vacation. I wondered if mediocre pasta tastes delicious at a resort. Is going on an adventure tour really an adventure? Do they like puns?On a plus side, peeing at night is not a hassle. You don't have to worry about stumbling on some night beast when you step out of your tent or worse, run into wasted guys at the hostel restrooms. I have camped at dozens of campgrounds, but have never stayed at a 5 star resort. I'll need someone to sponsor me a 5 star vacation and then I'll make a accurate comparison.

Thus I bid Aloha to the land of Aloha. Onward and southward to Australia. Until next time, hang loose and have a great day mate.

Aloha from Hawaii

Welcome to paradise. What does one think off when one hears Hawaii? For me it was beaches, volcanoes and pineapples. I'm not a great swimmer (I always look like I'm in survival mode, flailing around), I don't surf (except on the internet) and I don't need to work on my tan (I'm already a rich mocha). But I did enjoy snorkeling. It was like being in an aquarium. The colorful corals and fish set in stunning turquoise blue waters was breathtaking (no, I wasn't choking on the snorkel mask). It's a whole other world out there that we don't think about. So much color, so much life, so much beauty. I have always said that I wish I could fly, but now I think swimming to the depths of the ocean would be a nice super power as well.

The volcanic landscape is from out of this world. The Halleakala crater has been rightly described as a lunar landscape. It is completely barren and so quiet that it is unnerving. The brilliant rock colors kaleidoscopic. As an aside, the sunset from 10k feet, above the clouds made me feel like I was in heaven. While Halleakala on Maui is an older volcano and has been eroded, Kilauea on the Big Island is younger. I walked on lava that was completely hardened only 20 years back. Hiking on a lava lake while listening to birdsong is an surreal experience. It's a stark contrast of beauty and destruction. The rocks splintered and cracked rocks make for fascinating patterns. And while life has begun to find it's way onto the lava field in the form of grass and shrub, it was fascinating to imagine the volcano with its blazing cauldron sloshing and exploding. The raw power of nature in all it's glory. One evening, I viewed a glowing lava field from a distance. Even from a mile, you could sense the power of the underworld forces. I visited a town that was threatened by lava flows last year. It's unnerving to see that wherever the lava had flowed, the land was completely destroyed with no hopes of rebuilding for a long time. Damn nature, you are scary. Oh and to top it all, you land on a lava field at the Kona airport.

One thing I noticed was that there were only Hawaii plate cars around. Then I realized that I was on one of the most isolated islands in the world. And how they hell did the Polynesians find these tiny pieces of rock in the vast Pacific? One of humanity's great mysteries. They navigated to these islands without modern instruments. Look it up. I talked to one of the guys who moved to Hawaii 10 years back about the difference between life on the mainland and life on the islands. He said there is a greater sense of community and belonging as the land and the people are finite. You can't be rude to anyone as you never know when your paths will cross again. There is a greater involvement in community affairs due to the culture and the small size of the community. And imagine there actually being a limit on options available. For e.g cars, doctors, lawyers, hotels, etc. If you don't find something you like, you actually have to accept it and you can't say I'll drive a 100 miles to find it.

A few thoughts about travel in general. For me being on vacation is not a matter of checking things of a list. I do like taking pictures like the ones already there on the internet. But being on vacation is more than that. It is being: present to yourself and to the sights around you. It is about seeing something new and experiencing something different. It is good to identify the goals of travel. For me setting expectations is the first step towards satisfaction. The goals could be bucket list, pictures, nature, food, people, experiences, getting away or being open for something new. It also helps to understand the difference between pleasure, happiness and joy. And I believe the questions to be answered is, how does travel lead to joy?

In these early days of my trip, I do feel a little overwhelmed. A sense of loss after the farewells coupled with being on the road for the next few months makes me a little uneasy. But I know that as I settle into a routine and learn to be more present to myself and to God, I will be more at ease with this whole adventure. After all this has been my dream for a long time. I look forward to new sights, experiences, food, people and adventures.

If you don't like raunchy humor, please stop here and wait for my next post in a few days. So I was at a beach the other day. The turquoise blue water and white sands made for a spectacular setting. As I pondered on how to capture it with my camera, I spotted a path leading up to a small cliff at one end of the beach. As I neared the top with my camera in hand, I saw the path continue further down to another beach. And lo and behold I was at a nude beach. It was as unexpected as the Spanish Inquisition. There were no signs expect for one that said no life guards on duty. I guess naked people have a natural buoyancy? I quickly put away my camera and selfie stick, because who wants to be seen at a nude beach with those things in hand? I avoided eye contact as it was difficult to make eye contact and I wasn't sure if it was against nude beach etiquette. I didn't want to butt heads with anyone. Now, nudists are usually the kind of people you don't want to see naked. I would say it wasn't the case this time. For a split moment, I considered putting and checking of 'swimming naked at a nude beach' off my bucket list. And as Nelly says "It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes." It was a hot day and it was tempting. I could end this post right here, but I'm not the kind of guy to leave anything hanging. At that moment I was too afraid of raising any red flags as I wasn't sure of the do's and don'ts at a nude beach. What if they went nuts all of a sudden? What if they didn't appreciate my assets? Some of them looked a little testy. So I threw in the towel and left, saving my birthday suit swim for another day. All puns, real or imaginary, in this account are intended.

In America, we do road trips.

Road trips are a quintessential American vacation. Open roads, spectacular scenery and the ubiquitous McDonald's make for memorable experiences. I usually avoided road trips as it violated my law of travel. "Time spent at a place should be greater than twice the total time spent in transit in a car/plane/train. Time spent sleeping is not counted." And then there are the annoyances of driving, which I'll get to after extolling the merits of a road trip. But this time, since I had the time and a car which I have to get rid off after driving only 40k miles, I decided to do a road trip up the west coast.

Cruising along an open highway with the wind on my windshield (sorry, I don't have a convertible) and the music set to Bon Jovi is something one yearns for. Isn't it awesome that approximately 1 day of walking = 1 hr of biking, and 1 day of biking = 1 hr of driving, and 1 day of driving = 1 hr of flying? What an incredible blessing modern technology is. And the spectacular scenery whizzing by makes you feel glad to be alive. This indescribable joy that swells within you. For an instant everything is perfect. You just thank God for the gift of the present. It great to feel free, completely. No emails to worry about, no chores, no appointments. It's magical to wake up every morning and feel a sense of adventure well up from within.

For me, this joy leads to gratitude. And at this point as the farewells have wound down, my mind drifted towards the wonderful friendships I have had in the Bay Area. They say hindsight is 20/20. And truly I saw in retrospect (and after staring at I-5 for 7 hrs straight) the blessing my friends have been. I'm excited about the next phase of my life, but I can't help feeling a strong sense of nostalgia and loss. When everything is done and dusted, what you are left is with are memories. A shout out to all my friends who laughed and cried with me, who put up with my quirks, who let me share my life with them and their life with me. Isn't it ironic that happy memories make for sad farewells? Life moves on. And until we meet again, may God hold them in the palm of his hand.

I pondered on traveling alone v/s traveling with friends. Traveling alone has its perks. A great sense of freedom to choose what and when you'll do with your time. I love photography and sometimes it requires patience, which most non photographers don't understand. Traveling alone gives a lot more time to ponder and reflect on what you see and experience. You learn a lot about yourself and you gain confidence and a sense of independence after a successful solo trip. When you are alone, there's a much higher chance of talking to strangers and getting to know people outside of your daily life. Having said that, I prefer traveling with friends. I love having friends to share the memories and experiences with. Things you can laugh about years later. I love having friends give me pity laughs for my lame jokes. Also, as a team, travel can seem less daunting. But this trip will be mostly solo, because who else gets 6 months to travel?


And as promised earlier, I present the annoyances of driving. The main annoyance of driving are the moronic drivers. There are the left lane campers who believe it is their birthright to be in the left lane, no matter the speed they are traveling at. And there are the high beam gangsters who I think are signalling to their alien overlords in the night sky. What about those people who drive real slow on windy roads (understandable), but never use the turnouts and speed up whenever there is a passing lane? Finally, we have the group that believes blinkers are Christmas lights on their cars and never actually use them while turning or changing lanes. I'm sure there are many more. But I don't want to dwell too much on moronic drivers as it makes me irrationally angry and that leads me to break my lenten promise of being more charitable in my thoughts.

And so the road trip section of my travel ends. Now I downsize from my car to a backpack. The world beckons. Next stop, Hawaii!

Answering the call of Mt Whitney

Why do you want to climb Whitney? "Because it's there." That's adapting Mallory's famous words about Mt Everest. This was the 4th year that I was going to attempt to summit Whitney. The last three years were unsuccessful due to various reasons including last year when we hit by a thunderstorm. Was 2015 going to be it? The weather forecast called for 40% chance of rain the following day. My friend's altimeter on his watch was beeping with pressure fluctuations. Was that a sign of the storm? Another guy had seen a red moon. Apocalypse anyone?

The day dawned bright and clear, we got an early start at 7:30am and I was feeling alive. Despite having a pack weighing in at 43 lbs, I was hiking at a brisk pace. I briefly stopped to chat with a guy

who seemed bursting with a joy that was contagious. I told him about my three previous failed attempts. He promised to send positive energy my way and said that I would make it this time. I decided that I was gonna summit on day 1 itself. All that interval run training was coming good and I made it to trail camp at 11:30am. I had hiked 6.3miles, 3800 ft in about 4 hours. I emptied my pack, had a quick lunch and refilled my water. I gave myself 7 hours to summit and be back at trail camp. That would be 9 miles and 2500 ft climbing. Doable. And I was off. 

I was feeling good, though the altitude was affecting me. The previous night I had slept at 5000 ft, not exactly at a high enough elevation to acclimate. Trail camp is at 12000 ft. I was getting a slight headache and was feeling a little short of breath. The smoke from a wildfire was irritating my throat.

But I stayed focused on a steady pace with a 10min break every hour. The scenery was stunning. Eastern Sierra is spectacular with a stark beauty of ragged mountains and deep blue lakes. I finally made it to Trailcrest and there was slight downhill of 200 feet that felt great after the 99 switchbacks of climbing. The fork in the trail marked 1.9 miles to go. The summit was in sight. But those last 1.9 miles took a good 2 hours. I had underestimated that hiking gets exponentially difficult as you climb higher. I stuck with my hourly breaks, but I was getting nervous about the time. Everyone was descending. I estimated that I had to summit by 4pm to have a good chance of making it to camp by dark. I reminded myself of the positive energy that was wished to me eons back. I kept my body fueled with water and food. Finally, after almost 9 hours of hiking, the little hut at the summit came into view. What a glorious sight it was! I had summited Mt Whitney! 

I was elated. I was on top of the world or on the top of continental US at least. Fabulous views in all directions, slightly blocked out by the smoke. I took a few pictures and soaked in the magnificent scenery. I wrote my name in the register and took a picture of it for good measure. Time to head back as I didn't want to hike in the dark. I made good ground until I came to the slight uphill of 200 ft. I could barely move. Every step was excruciating. My head was throbbing. I was a little concerned about falling into a stupor and losing my way. So I tried to stay alert by doing math problems. At one point, I wanted to sit and rest, but I was worried that I might not be able to stand again. So I just leaned against a rock and caught by breath. I remembered the positive energy wished on to me. I think that guy was God. He had taken me to the top and would take me back down. I dragged myself to trail crest after which the trail would be all downhill. After a mighty struggle I made it to Trailcrest. As I descended I got my wind back and picked up my hiking speed. I reached trail camp just after 7pm. A long 12 hour hike was done. It was time to bask in the glory of achieving 

something thousands of people do every year. But hey, I had earned it. And I had earned a good night's rest without the need to rise at 3am the following morning to summit.

The next day I woke up at sunrise. There she was bathed in morning light. I snapped a few pictures of the glory of God's creation. I packed up and headed down. Goodbye Whitney, it was nice meeting you. Someday we might meet again.

Running a Marathon, the whole 46,145 yards

The Marathon, the ultimate endurance race, the common bucket list item, the new years resolution, the passion, the ego booster, the masochist's hobby. I finally thought, why not? The idea to run a marathon came from a mixture of ego, vanity, Facebook, bucket list, 2014 new years resolutions, etc. The idea was just the beginning. The race is long after that.

Alright, I got the idea. Next up, which one? Schedule, logistics and level of difficulty were considered. I finally settled on Napa as it would give me a few months to train, it was within driving distance and it was a flat course. Also March would mean cooler temperatures, which would help my cause. Now for shoes. I started with Vibram Five Finger as I had enjoyed running barefoot in the past. But my feet were pulp after 7-8 miles on asphalt. I needed the padding. So I decided to go with Asics Electro 33. Now running shoes are a religion and I will not get into that debate. You have all sorts of theories as to what works. I went for low price, minimal sole and light weight. Now I was ready to hit the ground running.

So how to choose a marathon training plan? Depends on how long will your training stretch and how many days a week you are willing to train. I made a hybrid plan after looking at a few websites. My goal was a 3:59:59 marathon. The training definitely tested my resolve. Running in the pre dawn darkness on cold winter mornings can make you question your sanity. Weekends had to be planned around long runs. Food had to be planned starting the previous night. One Sunday morning, I started running at 6am in the hope of the beating the rain forecast for 9am. I had 18 miles scheduled. It was cold and windy, but I was determined. A few minutes in, and the heavens open up. Here I was running in the rain. I couldn't run fast enough to keep myself warm and I started shivering. I felt like a moron. I questioned the purpose of this endeavor. I thought about a warm bed and a cup of hot chocolate. I eventually put mind over matter and slogged on for nearly 3 hours. I was cold and tired, but I felt accomplished. Life can be that way. You have your aims and goals. The going gets tough, and that's when the tough get going. You are done only when you decide you are done. On the plus side, I got to know my neighborhood very well. Running endless laps on the side streets introduced me to yard sales, friendly neighbors, pretty gardens, annoying dogs and rude drivers.

I used Mapmyrun to track my training. I thought it served the purpose without too many distractions. I highly recommend cold showers and ice baths for a quicker recovery after each workout. At one point, a few weeks into the training, I experienced sharp knee pain. I thought I had hit my limit at 12 miles, but it turned out my shoes were worn out. I'd advice new shoes after about 200 miles. I'd also suggest biking and weight training to help your knees. Oatmeal served well for a pre training meal and Cliff bars for snacks during longer runs. Three weeks before the marathon you begin your taper. A couple of days before the race, you load up on carbs and protein and avoid any exercise.

Finally, it was D-day! All the months of training had come to this. I was at the pinnacle of my fitness. I was pumped. It was time to get a run for my money. A few short speeches and we were off! I was feeling good. The numerous photographers and the cheering spectators lining the course made me feel like a celebrity. I waved and smiled. I high fived random people. I felt light and happy. Every step took me closer. I had some difficulty in pacing myself as I didn't have my watch and there were no clocks or pacers to be seen anywhere. I decided to ask my fellow runners every now and then to help me keep a steady pace. And then it came, I hit the proverbial wall at 20 miles. I was tiring out. This was the farthest I had ever run. I was wilting in the late morning heat. Where was that second wind? I stopped to take a drink. I couldn't start again! My legs simply refused. Eventually, I managed to stumble forward. I had to put mind over matter. I didn't want to stop again lest I might not be able to start again. My legs felt like jelly. I closed my eyes and I prayed hard. I cussed. I remembered all those hours of training. I thought about my goal of 3:59:59. I thought of my ego. I had never pushed myself that much before. And then the final stretch, the end was in sight. I saw the clock and my heart sank. It was 4:04. For a brief instant, I thought I'd have to do it again. But my tired legs kicked that thought into oblivion. Never again! Never have I been in that much pain. At the end of the race I thanked God for carrying me through, but also asked for forgiveness for cussing so much.

I have great respect for all marathon runners, Ironman triathletes and others who do masochistic feats. But I am done. given that it's my first marathon it is also my PR. I needed to use Paul Ryan's calculator to get a sub 4hr time. And since I like quitting when I'm in front, it was also my last marathon. There are lots of could haves and should haves. But I can't go through this again. I gave it my 100% on race day and I can't see myself going through months of training again. I learned that the race is no place for an ego boost, as people two or three times my age passed me. In fact the race is with yourself and your goals. As it is said, “a moment of pain is worth a lifetime of glory”. Well not exactly a moment, and not exactly a lifetime as well, but still... Wanna run?

Training schedule

Free Spirited Hostelling.

After my epic and extended stay at the amazing BH2 at BPGC, I have yearned for more hostel experiences. Of course the hostels I now frequent are for travel purposes rather than a dorm during college. Hostels are and always will be a mixed bag. The places and the people have their quirks and characters that make them fun. It's a wonderfully communal way of spending a night. It is a cheap and convenient way to stay on budget when traveling alone. I've only stayed at hostels in the US so far, though I have heard it's more of a thing in Europe.

Hostellers are a motley group of people. But they tend to the more laid back, new age spirituality kind who talk about finding themselves, the universe conversing with their soul, karma of their past lives, etc. I must confess I rarely mention that I'm an engineer and have a office job. I think it stops conversation as I appear to be elitist. I have had numerous random experiences at hostels. I was offered weed on one occasion. Once my room had no floor but was just sand. Another time, the hostel had an outdoor hotub overlooking the Pacific, a million dollar view for $5. Then in this hostel above a nightclub, I had Kanye lullaby me to sleep. You have no idea who your roommates will be. I always carry ear plugs and eye covers so that I can zone out when I need the zzz's.

I think the best part is meeting people and listening to their stories of life, travel and adventure. These are people I'd never meet in my friend circles from a tech job and Church. It opens your mind and broadens your horizons. It enriches your life experience vicariously. You connect with a complete stranger over the most random thing. As an Indian, I'm the exotic guy who has lived their eastern spirituality. I politely mention that I'm Catholic but helpfully joke that I had a pet snake and rode an elephant to school as a kid. I once met a biker from NZ who biked in the Yukon territory and Alaska for months. Then there was this girl who moved from Wisconsin to Puerto Rico in search of finding a calling in the tropical paradise. I came across a Chinese girl who spoke better Spanish than English because of all her travels in Latin America. Once, a hostel host mailed me a $20 bill as a refund for the key deposit. Money I had thought lost after we had checked out before he had woken up. I was pleasantly surprised by his integrity.


Of all my hostel adventures, one will always remain etched in my memory. Last December, I was driving after dark on a cold rainy night on Hwy 101 in the remote NW corner of Washington state. The Google Maps voice said “You have arrived”. I thought to myself, “Where?”. Here I was stopped on a pitch dark highway. There was no sign of civilization. Suddenly I spotted a small sign that read “Hostel” and a narrow unlit driveway leading up besides it. I pulled up slowly to a small house with a dim porch light. I pondered whether I should go in or just drive off? I chose the former, thinking that if he has a website, he must be legit. Yeah, sound logic! An old man opened the door, which creaked on it's hinges. I greeted him nervously and peeped inside. It was his house. It was messy but looked clean. We exchanged what could pass off as pleasantries and I asked if he had any other guests. He replied none and mumbled something about off season. The last guest was a week before me. I took a deep breath, hoped he made it out alive and went to fetch my bag from the car.

The charge for the night was $13 and an additional 50 cents for a towel. I took the towel just so that I wouldn't be stuck with the number 13 in that creepy place. And there was the requirement of 20 minutes of chores which could be substituted if you paid an additional $5. I took the chores, which he said would be done in the morning. I inquired the time he woke up. He said he would be up when I was. I wasn't sure if that was funny or creepy. After some conversation I concluded that he was the kind of guy who was dissatisfied with the world for no specific reason and was trying to live off the grid. I retired early party due to fatigue and also to end the awkward sporadic conversation. The creaking and groaning of the house was magnified in the absolute stillness of the night. The creep factor was increased by the darknedd. I told myself to trust God and trust me. Somehow I managed to sleep peacefully.

The next morning when I woke up, Jim was already up. I asked him what my 20 min chores were. He told me to vacuum a few rooms. And he actually watched me do it as I tried to be diligent in getting under the tables and around the furniture. Finally I was done and I drove off into the pre dawn darkness. Back on Hwy 101, I wondered whether that was just a dream. Sometimes reality can be stranger than dreams.

I'm not sure if I'll ever make it back to Jim's hostel, but I'll definitely stay in hostels on my future travels. Hostels are a paradigm of “Life is a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get.” Unless of course it is a glass box, which is what Yelp can do sometimes. But still, I live in the hope of being pleasantly surprised on my travels.

Lost coast is found

Last Fourth of July, I celebrated Independence day by wandering wild and free on California's Lost Coast. It is a hike in paradise. The rugged, wild and desolate beaches are part of the last remaining stretch of undeveloped coastline of the West Coast of the US. The hike is one long walk on the beach with waves singing to you and the wind caressing you. The blue ocean shimmers in the summer sun and you thank your stars for your chance to be in heaven.

The incredible beauty moves you to wonder, to believe in something deeper, something higher. There's something magical about staring into the blue ocean, smelling the salt and listening to the waves. There's something mysterious about the fog clinging to the hillside and settling over the ocean. There's something soothing about feeling the soft sand under your feet as you soak in a gorgeous sunset. Someday life will be perfect like this, but today I'll settle for this temporary perfection.

The hike from Mattole to Shelter Cove covers 25 miles of magnificent scenery. The Pacific, as blue as it can be, on your right and soaring cliffs and golden hills on your left. You hike to the rhythm of the waves with rocks crackling under your boots. You hike in the soft sand, leaving behind footprints soon to be wiped away by the tide. You hike on trails through open grasslands. You cross numerous creeks and streams which make great spots for snack breaks. The seagulls skim over ocean, wild and free. The sea lions lounge in the sun, grunting as you pass by. The otters glide smoothly over the waves, the hare looks at you out of curiosity and the snake slithers away as you reach for your camera. The beautiful driftwood littering the beaches is more forgiving to your slow reflexes with the camera. Your day starts with the mysterious fog clinging to everything around you until the sun blazes through. You day ends with a magnificent sunset over the Pacific. Camping on the beach is a dream come true. You end a perfect day of hiking with a dip in the ocean and a rinse in a stream. Chow down some delicious pasta on the beach and soak in a beautiful sunset. The waves lull you to sleep as you dream of another day in paradise.

Some useful tips on the logistics of the trip. Get a map to know the locations of the creeks. I purchased the map by Wilderness Press. The creeks are basically where you can camp at night. The map also shows the 'impassable at high tide zones'. Make sure you check the tide tables for the day of your hike. I'd say for safety, you should not be in those zones 4 hours on either side of the high tide time. Obviously the ideal situation is hiking in the zones when the tide is going out. But if you have a tight schedule and the high tide times are not at the opportune times, use my 4 hour rule of thumb. We camped at Spanish Creek on the first night and at Gitchell Creek on the second night. That was about 10.5 miles on day, 10 miles on day 2 and 4 miles on day 3. Most people hike in the north-south direction as the prevailing winds in the summer are from the north west. For that, you need to park your car at Shelter Cove and take a shuttle to Mattole. Blu with Lost Coast Adventures was our shuttle guy. Super nice and friendly. The shuttle schedule depends on the tides so you can cross those high-tide-impassable zones at low tides. Call Blu to discuss your trip. As for gear, in addition to the standard backpacking gear, you might also need water shoes as there are no bridges across the streams. But this year being a drought year, the streams were running pretty low and we could ford the streams by hopping on rocks. And bring a giant thrash bag for all your gear that you can't fit in your tent. The overnight fog will give everything that is exposed, a thorough soaking.

Hope you find yourself at the lost coast sometime. Life is a beach, go play in the sand.

More pictures can be found at https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10202471721850279.1073741842.1111549502&type=1&l=a41f52db50  

Puerto Rico - Explore beyond the shore

Running on the beach free as a bird, with the sun and wind in the my back, then a rainbow pops up over the ocean, then pouring rain, followed by a dip in the warm ocean as the rain abates and all is fresh again. A wonderful memory. And many more from the Enchanted Isle. How about listening to reggae music on boat, sipping a Pina Colada, gazing at the turquoise blue Caribbean sea, with the smell of salt as the breeze gently caresses your skin?

I spent two weeks in PR. The first week was planned by me, the second week by the snow storm in NYC which canceled my return flight. Some nice memories and some not so nice. I won't talk about the must see or do. That will depend on what floats your boat and you can find guide books for that. I used Lonely Planet, for the record. This is a travelogue about my experiences and opinions.

I spent days at the beach, where everyone has a beach body. No, I don't call them beach bodies just because they were bodies on the beach. Frankly, I had never seen so many beautiful people at one place at the same time. I worked on my tan. If you say I am too brown to need a tan, I ask you, why do black people sun bathe? I camped at the beach. It was wonderful to go to bed to the sound of the Coqui frog and refreshing to rise to sound of waves. And there were countless Pina Coladas, from roadside stands to upscale restaurants. It is my new favorite cocktail. It is summertime in a glass. I once ordered a Cuba Libre for breakfast. “Would you like coffee or juice with that omelette? Nope, a Cuba libre please.” It was 8am! After all I was in the rum capital of the world.

The bio bay tour at night was the highlight of the trip. Quite otherworldly. It was like being in the movie Avatar. The water sparkles as you paddle your kayak or run your fingers through the water. It glitters when you hold it in your hand or sprinkle it around you. It feels like magic. And snorkeling in the ocean was fun too. Though not as colorful as the stuff I had seen on TV, still memorable as it was my first time. And the caves were mysterious and eerie. Nature is beautiful in so many different ways. Just when you think you've seen it all, here you are left open mouthed yet again.

I loved laying on the sand as it rained. I enjoyed walking the cobblestone streets of San Juan, lined with beautiful Spanish architecture. I explored the lush green countryside and the gazed at the deep blue ocean. PS, to see those calm turquoise Caribbean waters, visit in summer. In winter, the sea is too rough. Bummer. And I will remember kind souls who helped me find where to get off from the bus and the cab driver who came back late at night to return shoes I had left in the car.

A note to lone travelers. It is much more fun and easy to meet people for company and cost sharing if you stay at hostels and campgrounds rather than hotels. Hostels have a motley crowd of fun peeps, hotels have (at least at the hotel I was put up) snobbish uptight people.

Some more notes or more like complaints. Public transport is terrible. Bus schedules are almost non existent. And those publicos work only if you have all day to spare. Once, a publico went to someone's house as a detour while

we patiently waited twiddling our thumbs. Bikes and bike lanes are rare. You might get an unfriendly vibe, especially outside San Juan, if you speak in English. And sometimes, they will not speak a word in English. Hello sign language. All food seems to be fried. There are no bookstores. The bugs and humidity can be a lethal combination. Everyone is slow to react to everything. Drivers are crazy. I had a fear of speed bumps. Until I overcame so many in PR. Cabs don't have meters. Ok I am done.

Traveling, like life, is a box of chocolates. You never what you'll get. But isn't that the glorious uncertainty of life? Go out there and make memories. I promise the good ones will get better and the bad ones will fade away with time.

Bike Tour - Crater Lake and NorCal

“The wonders of the world are only made more magnificent when you approach them from the humble perch of a bicycle.” - Bound South. True that. Biking in Crater Lake NP, the Redwoods NP and along Hwy 1 in northern California lets you experience some of the most breathtaking scenery up close, personal and at a meditative pace at which you can truly soak in it's magnificence.

I took the train up to Klamath Falls OR, hopped on my bike and rode to Crater Lake and then on to Crescent City and south along the coast to Santa Rosa. I have wanted to do this for a long time, to ride my bicycle for days on end with the open road in front of me. Over a period of 9 days, I covered about 630 miles with 45,000 feet of elevation gain. And I was rewarded with sights and experiences of a lifetime.

Being at Crater Lake is like being inside a postcard. The serene blue waters with gray mountains in the background are a mesmerizing sight. Riding through the forests of Oregon calmed my mind and cleared my lungs. And then the Giants of NorCal, the Redwoods. They are a sight to behold, tall and stately, yet quiet and gentle.

And the scent and sounds compliment what you see, to create something nearest to perfection. Riding by the ocean is always a joyful experience. The vast blue expanse, the cool breeze, the waves tirelessly carving away at the rugged cliffs, the tiny sandy beaches, the muted lighthouses, everything about it speaks to the soul. A sunset over the ocean is timeless in its beauty. The rolling farmland interspersed with tiny towns took me far far away from my daily routine.

The people you meet along the way is surely one of the highlights of a bike tour. Troy, a fun guy from Seattle, became my riding buddy for the second half of my trip. He was riding from Seattle to Big Sur. And there was this British couple in their early 20's who were hitch hiking and camping their way down the coast. I had thought that that happened only in books. Then there was this guy who hardly carried anything besides his sleeping bag. He slept under a tree or the stars every night. And there was this guy from South Carolina who biked across the US, passing through the Nevada deserts in June! And he didn't have a stove.

He cooked all his meals with fire made from firewood he gathered every evening. The list is endless. There are a lot of fun, quirky, adventurous, insane people out there.

My daily routine started at the crack of dawn. Eat breakfast, wash, pack up and hit the road. Then pedal the whole day with breaks for food and pictures. Reach a campsite in the evening, set up camp, dinner and hang out with others there or go exploring the state park or national park. Hit the sack at 9pm. Food; well, the days were filled with endless eating. Breakfast, followed by hourly snacks of trail mix, peanut butter and bagels, and fruit. I usually had two lunches at some deli or cafe. And then more snacks, followed by dinner at campsite.

The main daily activity of the trip was biking of course. Hours of pedaling through beautiful countryside and small towns. I liked the sound of my tires on the road when I was cruising along. Mile markers were the faithful companions. Of course, it was not all cruising. Uphills always lurked around the corner. Even the smallest uphill is killer if you are not patient. Use granny gears and great granny gears and the steepest climb will be overcome in due time. There were numerous occasions when I had to put mind over matter and keep going.

“End of Lane” signs on the uphills usually signified end of climbs and were much looked forward to. And sometimes I didn't look forward to the downhills either. The toil of the uphill would leave me drenched in sweat which would freeze me as I whizzed downhill. And since drag is proportional to velocity squared, the steep downhills are a major waste of energy.

The trip went to plan as my bike and body did great. I used the Oregon DOT, Adventure Cycling and Krebbs maps to plan my trip. These maps help you get off the highway when possible and take you along scenic routes. They also provide additional information about campsites, towns and services, elevation profiles, etc. which is useful when on the road. Smart phones might not work at most places as cellphone network coverage is quite poor.

A couple of things that I would do differently, given a chance. Do not camp at Del Norte SP. It is a lovely park, but the campsite is so far down in the valley, that it took me close to an hour to get back on the highway the next day. Secondly, less daily mileage would be better for my body and also give room for weather and mechanical issues, if any. Something like 60-65 miles a day would fit my level better.

I am glad I was tougher than I thought I was. Maybe that's because I simply had to be. I think a lot of life is like that. The edge of toughness can be dulled by too much comfort. Get out there. Life is an adventure, dream it and live it.

Hiking Half Dome in Yosemite NP

As you drive into Yosemite, you can't help but wonder if God is an outdoor enthusiast. The lofty granite peaks stand tall and mighty, overlooking the verdant green valley below. Waterfalls cascade hundreds of feet down the sheer cliffs. An unbridled display of nature's grandeur. As John Muir said about Yosemite, “It is by far the grandest of all the special temples of Nature, I was ever permitted to enter.”

The half dome hike was the centerpiece of my trip. Step 1 of a Half Dome hike is to get permits. There is the season lottery and the daily lottery. If neither attempt is successful, try the begging lottery as we did when we were one permit short for our group. We basically asked everyone along the way if they had extra permits. And we eventually found one! If I ever have extra permits, I will put a sign on my backpack saying so, when I hike the trail. I think it would be a crime to let Half Dome permits go unused. The permits are checked just before the sub dome, which is well before the cables. If you don't have a permit, you don't even get a decent view of the Half Dome.

A few pointers to any Half Dome dreamers. Start early to avoid traffic in the valley, to find parking close to the trail head and to avoid crowds at the cables. We reached the parking lot at about 7am. The hike is about 18 miles round trip from the nearest parking lot. It took us about 11 hours including a half hour spent at the top of Half Dome. The Mist Trail is fairly well marked and easy to follow as it snakes along the Merced River. The Vernal Falls and the Nevada Falls, in full flow during the early spring season, painted a beautiful picture. And I love the sound of rushing water. The trail can be strenuous at times. Some people recommend hiking poles. I had them but didn't use them. Take plenty of water and/or a water filter. The last place where you can filter water from a stream is at the Lower Yosemite campground, which is about 4 miles into the hike. The trail is shaded for most part which is a bonus. That is until you get to the sub dome which is exposed granite with a few hardy trees providing some shaded rest points. And the Half Dome itself is completely exposed. Gloves are useful on the cables section to haul yourself up without ripping your palms.

The highlight or the tough part, depending on your perspective, is the cables section. Metal cables along with wooden slats provide for a way up the steep and slippery granite rock face. At some points, the inclination is about 45 degrees I read. You will need some upper body strength to pull yourself up when there is no traction for your feet. You can take your time and rest at the wooden slats which are spaced about 10 feet apart. But you will cause a traffic jam as there is only one way up and down and it is impossible for people to pass you when there are hikers coming down too. So for the sake of all, keep yourself moving. It took me about 20 min to get up. And about 30 min to come down as traffic had picked up significantly by then. It is very safe as long as you don't do anything stupid, like climb when it is wet or go outside the cables.

The views from the top are absolutely gorgeous. Granite hill tops with a smattering of snow as far as the eye can see. Vertical cliffs drop down into the lush valley floor. Evergreens hug the sides of the mountains wherever they can. Streams rush down to the valley floor in the distance. The cool breeze refreshes the weary mind and body as you soak in the exhilarating views This truly is one of nature's grandest monument.

Half dome has to be in the bucket list of every avid hiker. A great challenge with sweet rewards. The only downside in my opinion is that it is a trail that goes out and back, in the sense it is not a loop, unless you take a detour on the John Muir trail towards the end. That means once you are done with the summit, you have to drag your butt 8 miles back down to the trail head along the same trail you had just seen. Maybe that gives you time to ponder upon, to digest the beauty of Yosemite or maybe you can just enjoy the scenery a second time with the sun at a different angle, especially the waterfalls that face west.

The Lonely Planet guide certainly is not kidding when it says that Yosemite makes Switzerland look like God's practice run!

(Bike) Tour the Bay Area

Don't wait to go cross country, go overnight, says Bike Overnights. A long bike tour is my dream vacation. A day will dawn, when I will ride the open road in front me over thousands of miles. But until then, I will have be content with overnight bike tours on weekends.

The SF Bay Area is blessed with gorgeous scenery and pleasant climate that make many bike tour options possible.

I wrote about my first bike tour, Santa Cruz – Monterey – Carmel, last labor day weekend, which was published in Bike Overnights. This route takes you through the farmland and sand dunes of central CA coast. Public transit is available from SJ to Santa Cruz and from Monterey to SJ. It is generally a good idea to go south as the winds tend to be from the north. Veterans park campsite is the best option for a night stop on this trip.

SF to Santa Cruz is a fine touring option too. We started at the SF Caltrain station and followed the waterfront, first due west and then south till we hit Hwy 1, which takes you all the way to Santa Cruz.

The trip is about 90 miles. We stopped for the night at Pigeon Point lighthouse hostel, a fun and affordable place right by the ocean. The hot tub overlooking the ocean is pretty sweet. The hostel has a fully furnished kitchen where you can cook your meals. It's a great place to meet other fun people. And the elegant white lighthouse on a the rocky coast makes for a postcard picture. The scenery along the route, as with all of coastal CA, is beautiful. Farmland, small towns, hills, dunes and beaches. And Swanton Berry Farm in Davenport, with its delicious food and honor payment system is a must visit. Don't forget to catch some surfers in action near the lighthouse in Santa Cruz. The Santa Cruz to SJ bus service is a convenient connection to the south bay to complete the loop.

The SF – Bodega Bay – SF tour takes your through the rolling hills and farms of Marin and Sonoma counties. We headed north through Fairfax and Nicasio, east of Three Peaks in Marin county.

I loved the cozy and rustic feel of the small towns in Marin County. It is a world away from the hustle and bustle of the Bay Area. Cows and sheep grazing on the verdant hills make it perfect picture. A stretch of road through a redwood forest calms the soul. We camped at Doran City Park, a basic but comfortable campsite that has showers. The next day, we headed south along Hwy 1 until Stinson Beach, took the Panaromic Hwy to cut across east to Mill Valley and onto SF. The ride along Tomales Bay and Bolinas lagoon is quite spectacular. And the Panoramic Hwy needs to be given due respect for challenging every muscle and sinew in my body. All in all, a hundred and fifty miles of unending bliss.

Soak in the wine country as you pedal through the storied vineyards of the world famous Napa Valley.

Our tour started with a trip on a ferry from SF to Vallejo. We then headed north towards Napa and hit the Silverado Trail. Miles and miles of bright green vineyards, interspersed with beautiful wineries. Bothe-Napa SP makes for a good stop for the night. It has a hiker/biker site and all facilities. Day two took us east over the hills into Santa Rosa. Hop on a Golden Gtae transit bus to get to SF. This 65 mile trip is great way to see one of the most famous wine producing regions in the world.

Big Sur, a bit of heaven on earth. I had blogged about the Big Sur bike tour with Almaden Cycling and Touring Club. I didn't do this ride as a self supported bike tour. It might be a little too strenuous to bike this loop on a fully loaded bike. But the brave souls who take this one on, will be duly rewarded. Big Sur is definitely one of the most beautiful places I have visited. Take it all in at the relaxed pace of a bike ride.

Some useful tips for aspiring bike tourists. Map your ride using Ride with GPS. This website gives elevation profiles of your route. Your pace will be much slower on a hilly terrain as compared to a flat one. Also check for wind directions as a strong headwind is like a continuous uphill not followed by a downhill. Gear includes a touring bike (or a road bike with a metal frame), panniers, tools and camping gear. I have a Novara Safari touring bike with Ortileb panniers. Go discover the Bay Area, one weekend overnight trip at a time.