tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84673999927533845092024-03-13T03:36:16.436-07:00.Our own Great American Road Trip, exploring our home country, what makes a place home, and what home means to people we meet along the road.TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-10305214910504545812015-03-24T12:02:00.000-07:002015-03-24T12:02:41.698-07:00Captain Huckleberry Finnegan: Where is he now?Hey everybody, long time no see! We've decided to pop onto the blog to answer a recurring question: where is Finn these days?<br />
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When we found Finn in October at a park near Mark Twain's historic residence in Hartford, CT, we weren't one hundred percent sure what we'd ultimately do with him, but he was malnourished and hungry for affection, as well as full of worms so we figured giving him food, love, and care would improve his situation no matter what. Ultimately, as the end of our adventure neared and we made our respective plans, it became evident that living with either of us was not the best option. Kelsey moved into an apartment in Portland where she simply couldn't have pets, for starters. Tressa <i>could </i>have a cat in her new Los Angeles studio for a $250 deposit, but Finn was so lively and adventurous she felt hesitant to take an adventure cat and reduce his world to 450 square feet. Letting him outside in the busy, dirty streets near the apartment was out of the question.<br />
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However, Tressa's aunt, who was one of our very first project contributors and an avid animal (especially cat!) lover, mentioned to Tressa one day that she was considering acquiring a friend for her cat, <a href="http://wheretheheartisusa.blogspot.com/2014/06/pet-portraits-progress.html" target="_blank">Lunita</a>. Sis lives on a big wooded hill with Tressa's other aunt and grandma, and their two dogs. They all agreed to see how Finn fit in, and at first things did NOT go well — Lunita was not happy with the prospect of sharing her domain with another feline and would make some wild sounds and chase him down when she saw him. For a while, we worried that things wouldn't work out. But as time has gone by, we are happy to report that our little ginger cat is adapting quite well, and has successfully persisted in trying to befriend Lunita. <br />
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Finnegan now has access to many trees, which he has learned to climb up AND down finally, and has taken to demanding snuggles from all human residents of the house. Tressa has been back to visit, and he trots up for butt scratches and treats but seems quite at home, playing outdoors and wrestling with Lunita. He is even bigger than Lunita now, and appears to still be growing. What was once a skinny little worm-ridden kitten is now a big, healthy, well-traveled and feisty teenager cat with vast stomping grounds and a loving family.<br />
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Before: Finn the day we found him.</div>
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After: Finn & Lunita today.</div>
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<b>Our enormous thanks to Sis for taking in our little orphan — we know he couldn't possibly be in better hands!</b>TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-49317981951948786932015-01-17T13:55:00.000-08:002015-01-17T13:55:21.700-08:00Adventures in Domesticity<i>It's been a little over a month since we've returned from our road trip. Here's what we've been up to:</i><br />
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<b>TRESSA </b><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XlDEw8M7n6A/VLrYOWxBFQI/AAAAAAAACZM/Uil3cjuX5RM/s1600/IMG_4661.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XlDEw8M7n6A/VLrYOWxBFQI/AAAAAAAACZM/Uil3cjuX5RM/s1600/IMG_4661.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a>Coming back to California was a bit of a whirlwind for me. Once we got to LA, Evan and I began apartment hunting and soon signed a six-month lease for a studio in the downtown/Koreatown-ish area. Our apartment is in a pretty rough part of town, but it’s cute and I’m enjoying the sensation of nesting for the time being, although in some ways being stationary has felt a little challenging. Evan is going to school at CalState LA and in the mean time I continue to do social media work from home and from coffee shops, and have been looking into working with animals and possibly volunteering at a local rescue or shelter. Of course, I also have quite a bit of writing and even more editing to do as I sift through my notes and impressions from the trip and begin to put together the pieces.<br />
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<b> KELSEY </b><br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j473hM_lgow/VLrYEAGWvBI/AAAAAAAACZE/uqV4bMlzAVg/s1600/IMG_4257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j473hM_lgow/VLrYEAGWvBI/AAAAAAAACZE/uqV4bMlzAVg/s1600/IMG_4257.JPG" height="320" width="234" /></a>Slightly over a month after the culmination of our American exploration I’m sitting in a clean, amenity-ridden, third floor apartment in Portland surrounded by gray rainy skies, the pervasive scent of bacon and onions and donuts, and bustling downtown streets. Instead of wondering which can of cold soup to eat or when I’ll be able to shower, I wonder how low I should set my employment standards and what to expect from the expensive photography marketing course I’ve just enrolled myself in. I’ve been challenging the cozy, comfortable routine of sedentary life by running on drizzly forest trails, acquainting myself with my new city, and dreaming of the next adventure.<br />
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Now that we’ve had some time to get past the holidays and situate ourselves in our new home bases, we’ve started developing a system for working collaboratively from long distance. We’re using shared Google Docs to collaborate, breaking our journey down into small segments of time and scheduling to-do lists and weekly meetings for ourselves to discuss our goals, edit, elaborate, and continue building our photographic and written narrative. What you may not know is that we have a LOT more material that has not gone into the blog or onto our Facebook, in fact a lot of our favorite things we've saved for the final project.<br />
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We will probably not be updating the blog or social media accounts nearly as frequently since the work we are doing is a lot less externally tangible and exciting, but we’ll let you know how it unfolds and will definitely share more when we are nearing a finished product!TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-35108542169122161312014-12-10T13:05:00.001-08:002014-12-10T13:05:30.306-08:00Home Sweet 'HomaWe're back in California, finally — in a strange interim wherein we are home and yet do not have homes quite yet...<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-24lTsnL3dbc/VIiwsG8Q6CI/AAAAAAAACXM/Y3wM1YZiuJA/s1600/IMG_6087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-24lTsnL3dbc/VIiwsG8Q6CI/AAAAAAAACXM/Y3wM1YZiuJA/s1600/IMG_6087.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>When we last wrote, we were Oklahoma bound, and we found our time in Oklahoma City pleasantly surprising. We were hosted by a sweet couple that had just returned to the area after some time away and attested to it's rapid growth and change. Sara was an amazing cook and she taught us to make spring rolls, fed us delicious Indian food and shared her plans for the new house with us. In OKC we had amazing Guatemalan food, befriended someone working at a fun little T-shirt shop that made us "Home Sweet 'Homa" pins, and checked out the Murrah building bombing memorial, which was beautiful and somber. On our last night, Sara took us to two of her favorite dive bars in what's known as the "Bar-muda triangle" and we sampled some of their signature cocktails and people watched for a bit. <br />
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Our next stop was Austin, Texas, where our friend Nicki was visiting her brother Mitch for Thanksgiving. We joined them for a mellow Thanksgiving morning hike that ended up including a bit of icy river-crossing, and then got down to business making some serious grub. Our dinner included all the good things: mashed potatoes, sweet potato dishes, a big ole turkey, corn bread stuffing, green beans, salad, some Fireball spiked cider, and much, much more. After dinner, not much more occurred besides belly rubbing, dessert consumption and some poorly made snacking choices.<br />
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On Friday, we met up with Travis, who was our host in Lawrence, Kansas, but was from Austin and was around for the holidays. We headed to a beautiful but freezing little swimming hole with him and some friends, although we abstained from submerging ourselves to the degree that they did. While Travis met up with some friends to play music, the two of us checked out South Congress St - a painfully adorable part of town full of cute shops stuffed to the brim with things we have no money or space for. We met up with Travis at a nearby bar to say our goodbyes, and took off for a night drive towards New Mexico. <br />
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Albuquerque is weird — a desert down full of bright pastel colors and curvy adobe buildings. We visited a few Breaking Bad sites, including Walter White's house, whose non-fictional resident came out to meet Finn, and Tuco's hideout, which is actually a coffee shop with some bomb bagels. We wandered around the rather touristy historical part of town, and dropped in on a little brewery to sample some beers. On our way out of town, we visited the <span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Petroglyph National Monument, which was frankly not that awesome, but only $1. New Mexico, it turns out, was not only our 47th state, but also apparently the 47th state in the country! </span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aHNgS-UYybI/VIi0BNJM6pI/AAAAAAAACX8/GYUMznZpgEA/s1600/IMG_6411.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aHNgS-UYybI/VIi0BNJM6pI/AAAAAAAACX8/GYUMznZpgEA/s1600/IMG_6411.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption">Finally, we crossed the border into Arizona, our 48th and final state. What a strange sensation! We </span></span>couchsurfed in Flagstaff in a big artsy house where we shared a quiet vegetarian dinner with our hosts. The next day was rather gray. We visited a few coffee shops, and went to a weekly BLT potluck get together with our host's roommate where we met some interesting humans and a fluffy pup. In the morning, in spite of the disagreeable weather, we headed for the Grand Canyon. Even shrouded in thick clouds and mist, it was a breathtaking sight, all the expansive purple red, all the unfathomable depth.<br />
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We started down the Bright Angel trail in the drizzle but after an hour or so were thwarted by the slick mud and the impenetrable white fog that stunted our view severely. We trudged back up the trail and instead meandered along the Rim Trail, scrambling out onto protruding slabs of rock, where we had a picnic of canned dolmas and granola bars before the sun began to slip away behind the dark gray mass of clouds. We camped at the Canyon that night, snuggled in the van with Finnegan with candles and snacks and leftover tequila, as the rain beat down on our tin roof.<br />
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<span class="fbPhotosPhotoCaption" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="fbPhotoSnowliftCaption" tabindex="0"><span class="hasCaption"><br /><br />In the morning, we awoke before the sun rose and drove until we found a little pullover along the rim, where we could just barely see some of the tallest rock formations peering out of the mist. We made coffee and breakfast and sat staring at at the fog before gathering ourselves up for the lengthy desert drive to Los Angeles. It was a long drive through the scruffy barren landscape, but we rewarded ourselves with In N Out, so here we are, on our last day together before Kelsey continues North with Eric, and Tressa stays in LA for a bit, waiting to sign a lease with Evan. <br /><br />Rest assured, we will be reunited for a bit in Sonoma County, and we still have a lot of work to do together to work on our final project, so stay tuned for more details about exciting things to come! </span></span>TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-33064756009677808722014-11-24T19:32:00.001-08:002014-11-24T19:32:44.231-08:00Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my Ma and Pa... <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E0A1OrCkcf8/VHObNRtPV6I/AAAAAAAACSg/xsv4F4PdkYA/s1600/IMG_4812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E0A1OrCkcf8/VHObNRtPV6I/AAAAAAAACSg/xsv4F4PdkYA/s1600/IMG_4812.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>After our Florida vacation, we headed to Mobile, Alabama. Our host was this wonderful enthusiastic man named Kenneth, who had been renovating his house and working on becoming sustainable with rain harvesting, composting, chickens and gardening. Kenneth took us downtown, where we had drinks with some of his friends and even met an alumni of Tressa's alma mater (UCSC), who had started a non-profit bike workshop that gave people the opportunity to fix up bikes and buy them by working hours at the shop helping others to do bike repairs. The next day we visited the workshop, where the others' rescue dogs trotted about amongst the industrious people and up-turned bikes. We strolled around downtown Mobile, observed a park full of incredibly fat nearly tame squirrels, and chatted with Kenneth about home over homemade pizza. Our last day in Alabama, we dropped Finn off at the vet to get fixed and then headed to Blakely State Park, which came highly recommended to us by Kenneth's friends, and while poor Finn was under the knife, so to speak, we enjoyed a leisurely hike. We're happy to report he is a much mellower kitten because of it. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nXctI1xh2hc/VHOb6QiClSI/AAAAAAAACSw/N9tDzYmF1Jw/s1600/IMG_5153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nXctI1xh2hc/VHOb6QiClSI/AAAAAAAACSw/N9tDzYmF1Jw/s1600/IMG_5153.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a>From Mobile, we through the bottom of Mississippi to get to New Orleans. On Wednesday we surfed with a wonderful working traveler named Jessica, who inspired us with her successful and nomadic ways and treated us to tacos. Thursday, she was headed to Mexico, to meet her boyfriend who was on a long term bicycle trip, and she was even kind enough to give us access to her house until her Air BnB guest arrived on Friday. On Friday afternoon, we couldn't help but go explore the haunting site of a Six Flags theme park that was abandoned before Katrina and never reopened. On Friday night, we were treated to an uncharacteristically classy experience by our sponsor, Camlow Cellars; you can read more about that night <a href="http://wheretheheartisusa.blogspot.com/2014/11/so-two-scruffy-van-dwellers-walk-into.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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Our last night in New Orleans, we visited Frenchman's Street, which we were told was somewhat less of a shitshow than Bourbon Street. We perused a cute but crowded little artisan alleyway full of handmade jewelry, clothing, art, and even voodoo talisman, complete with preserved chicken feet. A fun little band played on a street corner and we rummaged through old books and chatted with artists.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6N41jsSkSCg/VHOchsmGxwI/AAAAAAAACS4/eUPM3TR1lRs/s1600/IMG_5663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6N41jsSkSCg/VHOchsmGxwI/AAAAAAAACS4/eUPM3TR1lRs/s1600/IMG_5663.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>From NOLA we headed to Jackson, Mississippi, where our hosts informed us matter-of-factly that was simply nothing to do. Luckily, they had some pretty great dogs, so we were happy snuggling puppies and working on some crafting projects in their living room. In Jackson, we endured our coldest night yet, reaching a low of 21 degrees. We slept in lots and lots of layers and burrowed deep into our bed lasagne, where Finn joined us. We managed to sleep surprisingly comfortably, although getting out of bed was another story. Our last night in Mississippi was spent at a Mexican restaurant where our hosts' friends were gathered in a party for their neighbor, who was scheduled to begin six months of house arrest the subsequent day — complete with a "Happy House Arrest" cake. Needless to say, things got a little weird.<br />
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Although we'd already been to Tennessee, we felt impelled to spend a little time in Memphis, so that was our next stop. We spent our first night with a sweet woman named Rachel, who collaborated with us on a vegetarian version of Memphis BBQ, as well as some green beans, and a seven layer salad, which is apparently a Southern tradition. The next day we met up with Kat and Dustin, a wonderful pair of transplants with a majestically fluffy cat named Koz, that was supposedly the antisocial type but eventually warmed up to Finn. We joined them for some trivia at a nearby Irish pub that night and after running some errands the next day, we decided to check out the infamous Beale Street.<br />
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We didn't get far before a rather zesty man approached us about a charity program for homeless people, and although we don't have much money, we did rustle up some fruit snacks we'd been hauling around since Burning Man as well as a few other food items we could spare to part with. We checked out the general store, the Elvis statue, and then went to the Peabody Hotel to watch their famous ducks march on a red carpet from the water fountain into the elevator, which was quite the scene. That evening, Kelsey joined Kat and Dustin for a group run that culminated in free beer and pizza. <br />
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Arkansas was next; first we visited the Pinnacle Mountain State park for a short but vigorous uphill hike to a gorgeous vista, where we encountered an absurd amount of ladybugs, one of which made it's way into Tressa's mouth. After our hike, we drove to Fayetteville. Our host, Zach, was a philosophy student and professor, who lived with a philosopher, and took us out for drinks with more philosophers. Fayetteville is quite the bustling, football-happy college town, we found. We had a leisurely Sunday morning, tried unsuccessfully to introduce Finn to the resident cat, Sophia, and then drove to Crystal Bridges — a free museum recommended to us by a lovely woman we met in the parking lot at Pinnacle Mountain. The museum was quite worthwhile and we spent several hours exploring, while outside it began to rain, and the windows were illuminated with sporadic lightning. <br />
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We have just entered our 45th state, Oklahoma. Only 10 short days until we will be back in California, and we can hardly believe our journey is coming to a close...<br />
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<br />TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-18464161850920222892014-11-15T19:44:00.000-08:002014-11-15T19:44:56.588-08:00So two scruffy van dwellers walk into the luxurious Hotel Monteleone...No really, we actually went and stayed at a four-star luxury hotel in the heart of New Orlean's French Quarter on Friday. How, you ask? Well, it was all thanks to <a href="http://camlowcellars.com/" target="_blank">Camlow Cellars</a>, one of our biggest, most generous sponsors.<br />
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People actually quite often ask us how we are able to take such a big chunk of time to travel — it can sometimes seem absurd that two twenty-three year olds are able to traipse at their leisure across the country. The secret is a combination of things: hard work, foresight, creativity, and scrounginess. Before leaving, we worked our buns off. We did some rough routing and mileage calculation and tried to figure out how much money we needed, and then to save that much money. Tressa does social media work, so she continues to work from the road to keep afloat. We spend a lot of money on gas and very little money on anything else, we eat simply, we avoid pricey tourist traps, we urban camp and couch surf. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UOnv_EY6Jmg/VGgZToebg9I/AAAAAAAACR8/5IHunms756w/s1600/IMG_5466.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-UOnv_EY6Jmg/VGgZToebg9I/AAAAAAAACR8/5IHunms756w/s1600/IMG_5466.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>We did a crowd sourced fundraiser that many amazing people and companies donated to — and this is where Camlow comes in. Camlow approached us about the possibility of choosing their own reward for our fundraiser, an option we hoped people would have fun with, and they did just that. They gave us a few bottles of wine and asked that in exchange for their donation, we take photographs of the bottle exploring America as a part of a Social Media campaign that we've had a ton of fun with. Now, as we come to the last leg of our journey, Camlow surprised us with a reward of our own; one night of pure luxury! <br />
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We walked the crisp, lively streets to the restaurant where we poured over the menu and tried to look casual and did our best not to devour the tasty warm bread and butter on the table too ravenously. Kelsey savored a cocktail called Honey Child, a sweet honied berry concoction, and Tressa lost it over a minty, cucumber cocktail called Autumn Rain. I hope you're ready for a blow by blow of our dining experience, because we want to brag a little:<br />
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<i>(Left) Spinach and Granny Smith apple salad with sweet onion, walnuts, smoked blue cheese and sugar cane vinaigrette. (Right) Wood grilled eggplant roulade with three cheeses - goat, ricotta, and mascarpone - on baby arugula with smoked tomato-butter.</i></div>
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<i>Muriel's Vegetable Soiree: Lentil quinoa cake with cilantro sour cream, roasted beets with horseradish vinaigrette, haricot verts with red pepper aioli and sweet onions, flash fried zucchini with creole tomato jam and feta cheese.</i></div>
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<i>Pan Seared Maple Leaf Duck Breast: Roasted brussel sprouts, butternut squash hash and roasted duck.</i></div>
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<i>Creme Brûlée</i></div>
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<i>Sweet Potato donuts with caramelized pecan dipping sauce</i></div>
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After a few over priced shots and beers, we meandered our way back to the hotel, where downstairs there is a famous bar that is an actual slow-moving carousel, so we stopped in to take a few photos of the Camlow bottle enjoying an evening at this historic watering hole before heading to bed, but were unexpectedly swept up by a rather inebriated local that thrusted us upon his friend group, and before we knew it we were circling the carousel lounge with them, chatting about New Orleans, about the aftermath of Katrina, the sense of displacement and community effort that went into rebuilding, until the bar closed. We felt incredibly lucky to be able to casually ride the elevator up to our cozy quarters and conk out. <br />
<b><br />Thank you so much Alan and Craig, we had such a wonderful time taking Camlow out on the town! Check them out on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/camlowcellars/timeline" target="_blank">Facebook</a> and <a href="http://instagram.com/camlowcellars" target="_blank">Instagram</a> to see all the photos we've been taking with the bottle, and California friends, keep your eyes out for this awesome duo's wine release. </b><br />
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<b><br /></b>TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-32807650850772883742014-11-09T09:50:00.000-08:002014-11-09T09:50:07.933-08:00One month remaining!After leaving South Carolina, we headed to Savannah, Georgia, where we met our new host, Nick, a tattooed, fire-fighting father that took us out to the big sprawling Bonaventure Cemetery, full of ole crooked tombstones shadowed by big trees full of Spanish moss. We fell in love with all those big, mossy trees — the South was really beginning to look like the South.<br />
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Savannah is one of those magical places where you can drink beer on the streets, so in the evening we did just that, strolling through the picturesque squares, sipping on Georgia beer. We walked along the waterfront where a few big piratey looking ships were docked, and even befriended a wonderful retired couple that has been traveling in their boat for the past 14 months. As we strolled, we even ran into Nick's other two surfers, a woman from California and her English traveling companion, who he miraculously recognized from their CouchSurfing profiles. <br />
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It was fun being in a house full of CouchSurfing enthusiasts, sharing a big tasty breakfast on Nick's sunny porch and swapping stories. That afternoon, we drove to out to Tybee Island, had a quick bite at The Crab Shack where we got to watch baby gators lounge in the sun, and then strolled along the beach a bit, before taking our leave in the early evening, headed South towards Florida.<br />
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Evan was scheduled to fly into Miami the day before Halloween, so we did a bit of Halloween thrifting and bought some craft supplies with which to make our Fantastic Mr. Fox costumes: Kelsey would be Kristofferson, Evan would be Ash, and Tressa would be Agnes. Miami was HOT. We picked up Evan and checked into a cheap motel for the weekend. On Halloween we headed to Churchill's Pub, which was actually recommended to us as a fun cheap spot and possibly the oldest punk bar in Miami by an artist we'd met in Detroit. It was fabulously divey and we had an awesome night drinking cheap beer and listening to music. <br />
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Our weekend in Miami with Evan was all around mellow and hot and lazy, and before we knew it we were dropping him back at the airport and then heading north towards Indian Harbor Beach where Colin and Jill (Kelsey's pop and bonus mom) were waiting for us in a fancypants beach front condo with seashell themed couches that felt a little bit like heaven after a motel room so cheap that we literally didn't even have a trash can. Soon we were strolling along Cocoa Beach, sipping on piña coladas in the hot tub, playing Scrabble and the game of Farkle Linda and Jack gave us in Maryland, lounging on the beach and generally RELAXING. <br />
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It's been nearly a week of vacation wonderland, though, and the road is calling. Florida is our 40th state, and we only have 8 more to go and just about a month left ahead of us before we are back in California. It's strange to see the end of the journey approaching so quickly — November snuck up on us! But we are excited to plunge back into the adventure and get deeper into the South. <br />
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TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-17934583664339940932014-10-27T12:32:00.001-07:002014-10-27T14:04:38.871-07:00Snacking our way into the South<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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From Maryland we headed to Virginia, and visited the colonial town of
Williamsburg, which was an interesting look back in time. Our favorite
part of the town was the little garden and nursery we found, full of
rusty old tools, cute sheds, drying flowers and herbs. After a day of
exploration, we decided to spend the night in Charlottesville, a college
town. We sampled some beers at Three Notch'd Brewery, and then wandered
around a bit before climbing up onto a stone wall overlooking a
bustling street to drink beers and people watch. We ended up making
friends with a few chatty college students that climbed up to talk with
us about our adventures for a while.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7-kT72spq6g/VE2af0DCYBI/AAAAAAAACMk/7drzWsbd334/s1600/IMG_3405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7-kT72spq6g/VE2af0DCYBI/AAAAAAAACMk/7drzWsbd334/s1600/IMG_3405.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>We were urban
camping in front of a fratty-looking college house, and when we returned
to the van there were ton of bros milling about on the front lawn, so
we figured we should check in about camping out, and while they didn't
seem to mind, they did mention that they'd spotted Finn and were
plotting about how to "break him out" of them van. We reassured them
that Finn was quite set with food, water, litter, and toys, and that we
figured if the van was enough space for us to sleep in nightly, it
seemed to us that he was fine to hang out for a bit in there as well. We
put Finn on his leash and introduced him to everyone and they seemed
convinced, as well as a little incredulous about our whole set up. <br />
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Kelsey's
aunt, possibly one of our most enthusiastic supporters, Carole, lives
near Asheville with her boyfriend, Danny, so we headed there to hang out
with them. They have a beautiful hilltop property with an amazing view,
and took us driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway and then downtown for a
zesty "thai-dye" pizza and some beer. There were SO many cute dogs in
downtown Asheville, it was hard to contain ourselves. That evening,
Kelsey baked a scrumptious apple cake and we had a relaxing movie night.
After a leisurely morning breakfast and some much needed
van-organization, we said our goodbyes. <br />
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Our next stop
was Charleston, West Virginia, where we were excited to meet our
couchsurfing host, Justin, and his canine companion, Pearl, who he said
would be fine to hang out with our feline Captain! We had a chatty
evening with Justin and Pearl, sipping on Sierra Nevada and watching the
two critters get to know each other. They got along marvelously, and
Finn was quite bold, batting at Pearl from beneath the couch at first,
and eventually coming right up to her and giving her a careful sniff.
The next morning, we attempted to take Finn for an autumnal hike, but
were thwarted by rain, so while Kelsey jogged, Tressa holed up to work
in a little cafe, where a few people spotted our van decal and
eventually we were chatting with a man named Charles who had returned to
West Virginia three years prior, as an experiment in rediscovering what
it meant to be West Virginian, and had been thinking a lot about home
and place. We ended up meeting up with him and a friend later at a
nearby bar, to drink beers and discuss West Virginia, which they were
incredibly enthusiastic about, as well as disappointed that our time
there was so limited. As the night drew to a close, Charles took us to
Tudor's Biscuit World, a West Virginia standby that consists of tasty
biscuits topped with greasy breakfast food. <br />
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Our host
in Lexington, Kentucky, was an incredibly cheerful Japanese translator.
His name was Chuck, and he had a big ole ginger cat that Finn was soon
chasing and romping with in some truly glorious wrestling matches. Chuck
has a radio show at the WRFL college radio station, so we accompanied
him to the station and even got on the air briefly to promote our trip
and play some California tunes (California Honeydrops)! When the show was over, we drove around
Lexington for an impromptu night-tour of the local street art, and then
headed back to the house for a dinner of tortellini with some fresh
herbs from Chuck's garden. In the morning, we decided to go check out
the horse races, and afterwards we headed to Red River Gorge, which
Chuck said was one of the most beautiful places he'd ever been. It did
not disappoint, it was all autumnal colors, breathtaking views, and
gorgeous rock formations. We didn't quite realize how much we had been
missing the woods until we got to stand beneath the deciduous trees,
listening as the leaves fell all around us, and we felt a great sense of
peace. <br />
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Tennessee, but ended up Knoxville, where we ran some Halloween-related
errands (it's hard to get costume crafting time in when there's so much
to do and see!) and then checked out the Sunsphere at the World Fair
Park, where we even sneakily harvested some chard that was growing in
planters which appeared to be mostly decorative, and then had some work
time at Old City Java, which is apparently the oldest coffee shop in
Knoxville and is also adorable, found some dollar pizza nearby, and then
meandered around Market Square for a bit. We decided we'd attempt to
return to Tennessee to check out Memphis when we explore Mississippi
and Arkansas. The next day, on our way to Charleston, South Carolina,
we stopped at the Smoky Mountain National Park, which Justin had highly
recommended to us. We made breakfast in a picnic area and let Finn
explore a bit, before heading out on a little hike, where we met a
gregarious retired military pilot, who had spent the last seven years
living in his motor home and was looking for an adventurous older lady
to share his life with.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vEBOIuwnzYQ/VE6ZwHMW3fI/AAAAAAAACOc/zLfvbVShjwA/s1600/IMG_3990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vEBOIuwnzYQ/VE6ZwHMW3fI/AAAAAAAACOc/zLfvbVShjwA/s1600/IMG_3990.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>In Charleston, SC, we met up
with Ben, an old high school friend of Tressa's who had moved to the
area for Navy training. We hung out at a dive bar that is the
self-proclaimed #2 seller of PBR, and the next day went for a beach
excursion with Finn, who we even let romp around sans-leash for a bit.
We were a bit pooped, so we meandered lazily through town, lounging for a
bit in a park where a few men were yelling at each other, before
checking out Pepper Palace, where we did some extensive hot sauce
sampling, and then returning to Ben's to make an epic lasagna and watch a
movie. <br />
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We're writing you now from the Blind Tiger, a
cute little pub we were recommended by a gorgeous lady that lived in the
house we were parked in front of this morning, who popped out and asked
to say hello to Finn and then informed us that her pub was
animal-friendly. We spent our day wandering through Battery Park and
checking out the historic water-side houses and cannons, before coming
in here for wifi, coffee, and fried green tomatoes — perhaps an odd
combo, but a delicious one. Finn is a bit of a celebrity, of course, and
even the waitress keeps taking his photo.<br />
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<br />TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-81058530261786689822014-10-17T14:40:00.000-07:002014-10-17T14:40:44.629-07:00Canoes, Critters, Creeps & Crafts! <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NZ0Ms2T-L6I/VEGGsypIyAI/AAAAAAAACLM/f6DbLqrF6_0/s1600/IMG_3058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NZ0Ms2T-L6I/VEGGsypIyAI/AAAAAAAACLM/f6DbLqrF6_0/s1600/IMG_3058.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>From New Jersey, we headed to Philadelphia, where we couchsurfed in this gorgeous house decked out in all kinds of crafty, thrifty fun stuff and full of foliage. We walked several miles to get a feel for Philly on our way to visit the Mutter Museum, which is full of medical oddities, taxidermy and models and weird body parts and deformed fetuses. It was a truly fascinating little shop of horrors, and we wish we were allowed to take photos. That night, we joined our hosts and a few of their friends for some nearly full moon canoeing along the Schuylkill River, the serenity of the water juxtaposed starkly with the industrial scenes springing up alongside us — tall buildings full of bustling trains and bright lights, clanging and banging and flames. <br />
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The next day, although drizzly and wet, was spent checking out the Elfreth's alley, the oldest occupied street in America, cute shops in Old City, and the historic district where we saw the Liberty Bell. We also visited the Chemical Heritage Museum which has an interesting exhibit about the development of different space suits. That night we attempted to get into some sort of Friday night shenanigans but ended up at a bar full of people far older than us that eyed us with amusement, and so meandered back towards the house in the mist, where we found a table full of free books and food, and scored a few veggies and a science fiction paperback<i>. </i>The next morning we took Finn for a damp walk in Bartram's Garden before heading to Delaware. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mPvZcA-rrmY/VEGFy9Tl6FI/AAAAAAAACKg/tSJAk_P9Lr8/s1600/IMG_2227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mPvZcA-rrmY/VEGFy9Tl6FI/AAAAAAAACKg/tSJAk_P9Lr8/s1600/IMG_2227.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a>Our Delaware plans fell to pieces a bit, as we realized that a.) Dogfish Head Brewery is not where we thought it was, and is also closed on Sundays, and b.) our couchsurfing host fell ill and was unable to have us. We found a coffee shop in Newark to do a bit of work in, and then ventured a bit further South for no apparent reason, and ended up spending a day meandering through the Bombay Hook Wildlife Preserve, which was mediocre. We were not sad to leave Delaware. <br />
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Our next destination was Washington, DC. We knew it'd be madness to try and do it all in our brief time there, so we just hit the Natural History Museum, which we absolutely loved, and got lost in the animal and evolution exhibits for quite some time before heading to check out the Jefferson, Washington, MLK, FDR and Lincoln monuments, as well as the World War II memorial. It was dark when we left, heading South to tiny La Plata, Maryland, where we found a Little Caesar's dumpster full of pizza and even scored some decent dumpster salad ingredients. <br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eIlBTR4tgk4/VEGGxZbtBnI/AAAAAAAACLY/KANv_UUFmFs/s1600/IMG_3252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eIlBTR4tgk4/VEGGxZbtBnI/AAAAAAAACLY/KANv_UUFmFs/s1600/IMG_3252.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a>We were reveling in our victorious dinner loot and getting ready to head to a Walmart to camp out, when our headlights caught the attention of two young guys that came to our window, thinking we'd flashed our lights at them. We assured them we hadn't, and they chatted with us a bit, asking if we were van dwellers, if we were "down on our luck" and offering us help — first asking if we needed a place to stay, if we needed food, even asking if we needed help cleaning out our litter box! But we told them we were quite self sufficient, and headed out. After a fabulous dinner and some outdoor rumpus time with Cap'n Finn, we were settling down to snooze when someone knocked at the front door. Tressa cautiously peered out and was surprised to recognize the face of one of the guys that had approached us at Little Caesar's. We hadn't told them where we'd planned to camp, so their reappearance was a bit strange. Again, he asked if we were hungry or needed anything and when we told him we were fine, he asked us if we wanted to hang out. "C'mon, I'm a nice guy!" he said. It was awkward, to say the least, and it was nearly midnight. As we uncomfortably insisted on not hanging out through the (locked) door, a cop rolled up, and called the guy over. We peered out of the cracks between our curtains as another cop arrived and the four of them talked at length, before all departing. Whether they took the guys with them or they left of their own accord, whether they were in trouble for something in particular or were just being stopped for being lingerers, and how exactly they spotted us at Walmart remains a mystery. However, we slept with one eye open that night. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YXfnPt4WELI/VEGGsRk-RQI/AAAAAAAACLI/MP3N2KGVSao/s1600/IMG_2741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YXfnPt4WELI/VEGGsRk-RQI/AAAAAAAACLI/MP3N2KGVSao/s1600/IMG_2741.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>On Tuesday, we made our way to Hollywood! Hollywood, Maryland, that is, where we met with Tressa's great aunt and uncle, Linda and Jack. Our stay with Jack and Linda was marvelously relaxing and fun. They took us to meet Linda's sister, Mary, who runs a wildlife rehab out of her home, specializing in raccoons, which we got to hang out with for a bit! We also visited some Amish farms, and took Finn to a little nearby beach, enjoyed an incredible dinner of salad and eggplant Parmesan, tried some Maryland beer, and played board games and heckled each other relentlessly. Wednesday, we visited the colonial plantation down the road, although it was dumping rain, and then holed up inside to work and do crafts with Linda. Although we'd planned on leaving in the late afternoon, we had so much fun learning how to quill and making stickers and drinking Chai that we stayed well past dinner. Not only were we spoiled, but Finn was given an enticing squeaky mouse toy that he went absolutely wild for, and even some kitty treats. As we wound our way towards Virginia, we reflected on the comfort of family, even family we may not have seen in a long while, and how fortunate we've been to encounter so many generous people that have opened their lives to us completely and made us feel so at home.<br />
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<br />TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-40850056944209826922014-10-07T15:14:00.001-07:002014-10-07T22:20:22.595-07:00Driving our beast in the EastMoving fast is harder. We're already in New Jersey, with full bellies and a purring kitten, wondering how the hell we've gone something like eight states without writing. Oops. From Detroit, we headed to Cleveland to visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Sometimes, you have to be a tourist, right?<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-whrpsOVwZSM/VDRlbPTrSeI/AAAAAAAACKE/jh7wGdxHipI/s1600/IMG_2671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-whrpsOVwZSM/VDRlbPTrSeI/AAAAAAAACKE/jh7wGdxHipI/s1600/IMG_2671.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a>We wanted an east coast autumn, and when we sliced across the corner of Pennsylvania and headed into rural New York we got it — flaming red leaves as far a the eye can see. We took a beautiful day hike in the Adirondack mountains and took a long hard look at Lake George, icy blue and surrounded by more Fall foliage than we'd ever imagined and we realized we never really knew what autumn meant. <br />
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Then we headed into Burlington, Vermont, all expensive shops full of cute things we can't afford, pet every dog in sight, watched some lively street performers singing Hotel California with happy homesick hearts, and took a free chocolate tasting seminar at Champlain Chocolates. In the evening we drove to Spider Web Farm and met wonderful Will Knight, who spent two hours with us, chatting about his unusual business and his incredible collection of old sailor tattoos. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hQrHLvjrNYk/VDRhSCybwhI/AAAAAAAACIg/LU7j0IFRbvc/s1600/IMG_1126.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hQrHLvjrNYk/VDRhSCybwhI/AAAAAAAACIg/LU7j0IFRbvc/s1600/IMG_1126.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDvkXXhFHrU/VDRhYwjd5-I/AAAAAAAACI0/h9GwaYiz2IE/s1600/IMG_1087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDvkXXhFHrU/VDRhYwjd5-I/AAAAAAAACI0/h9GwaYiz2IE/s1600/IMG_1087.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a>In Berlin, New Hampshire we stayed with a woman named Lynn, 60 years old and still traveling. Lynn had an enormous US map on her wall and had driven across the country four times. She pointed us in the direction of a Lumberjack festival, where we were quite impressed with the turn out of Lumber-Jills, and less impressed with the beards. As with many of our hosts, we wished we could stay with Lynn and her two sweet dogs longer, but soon we were in Portland, Maine, wandering the art galleries and coffee shops and the Lobstah themed souvenir shops. Our hosts were a house of good-natured boys that let us cook in their kitchen and were bemused by our frequent spells of caffeine induced laughter. The next day, we walked alongside the water and took in the oceanic views before meeting Wesley for a tour of the adorable hand-crafted distillery he works at and stocking up on stickers.<br />
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We planned to be in Boston next, but were intimidated by the city traffic so we spent the night in Salem and visited the old cemetery and the Witch Trials Memorial, eerie in the drizzly morning of the first day of October, and then attempted Boston once more, only to be thwarted by the slippery insanity of the city streets that managed to beguile even our GPS, full of angry honking drivers and panicky confusion. Nope, decided, Boston will have to be another trip, one with a more specific destination and no giant van. <br />
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In Providence, Rhode Island, we went to a karaoke bar that had $3 nachos and watched someone sing a flabbergasting rendition of With or Without You before meeting our Australian couchsurfing host and her local boyfriend at a Blue Grass show nearby. Sunara had also done some extensive van dwelling, so we had a great time sharing stories and tips over beers and then again over breakfast before we checked out the town. She directed us to a weird little storefront that had some wild puppets, and when we arrived we knocked on the door and were invited in by the owner and artist, who even let us try on some of the costumes and took photos with us! The weirdest suggestions are always our favorite. <br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Js5FLCkDngI/VDRjMiCq8TI/AAAAAAAACJk/_gtr2FPCsI0/s1600/IMG_3119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Js5FLCkDngI/VDRjMiCq8TI/AAAAAAAACJk/_gtr2FPCsI0/s1600/IMG_3119.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>Next stop: Hartford, Connecticut, for a dual tour of the Harriet Beecher Stowe house, which made us feel unaccomplished and lazy, and then the Mark Twain house, which made us want a cat. Afterwards, we were hungry, so we headed to a nearby park to cook some pasta, and as we parked, we saw a tiny ginger kitten rubbing against a confused looking Pitbull, whose owner looked equally, or possibly more perturbed. Kelsey hopped out of the van before it'd been parked, and offered to snag the kitten so the Pitbull and its human could continue on their way, and suddenly we had a skinny little furball purring in our van and snacking on canned chicken. Naturally, we named him Captain Huckleberry Finnegan the Second, and decided to see how he felt about being in a moving vehicle — he didn't mind at all! So now we have a van kitten, harness and leash and all.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7ClT-4Ry4Sg/VDRkeRBJjjI/AAAAAAAACJw/Wr6pcihdXoQ/s1600/IMG_1605.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7ClT-4Ry4Sg/VDRkeRBJjjI/AAAAAAAACJw/Wr6pcihdXoQ/s1600/IMG_1605.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a>We know we're crazy, guys, we know. We took our kitten to New York City, where we miraculously found parking with the help of Evan's sister, who lives in Manhattan. New York was overwhelming, so much to do, so little time, and so much expectation. We gorged ourselves on dollar pizza and sesame balls, people watched in Central Park, gawked at buildings and ran into people, we walked across the Brooklyn Bridge at night, stared at the skyline and the distant glimmer of the Statue of Liberty, the silvery expanse of water. We made breakfast with Carrie, drank beers in Williamsburg, waited for trains in the hot dirty subway, checked out the High Line, peeked at Times Square before running far away, met up with friends and for drinks at a wonderful weird old biker bar, and still managed to wake up at 7 in the morning on Monday to get out of our parking spot in time.<br />
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Kelsey's brother has a friend in New Jersey he told us to come see, with tales of a wonderful sassy mother that we had to meet, and before we knew it, we were being stuffed with delicious ravioli and salads and bread and sausage, and our kitten was being fed tuna and meatballs and romping around the house in awe (his first house ever!) We had a mellow evening playing foozeball with Matt's friends and for the first time ever we both slept in a house because Candace wouldn't hear of us staying in our van. "Shut up," she told us, "What, do you want to pee in the bushes, too?" TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-48149291098160419522014-09-25T18:48:00.001-07:002014-09-25T18:48:39.401-07:00Inspiration & Impulse: Impressions of Detroit We come clunking into Detroit, full of vague, half-formed expectations and fresh from Over The Rhine, Cincinnati, where we visit a bustling farmers market, snap photos of bright murals and are called to by people clumped together in stoops, idling near their neighbors on bikes, or passing in a car. They crane their necks to look at the tattoo on Tressa's thigh, they ask how we are, two white girls in shorts with bright backpacks and lost faces. <br />
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Detroit comes puffing into view, on either sides of us steely machinery sprouts up, billowing sinister pink clouds, and the freeway rolls us onward, small beneath the ruddy brown of so many tall buildings of crumbling brick and broken glass, boarded up or jagged. We are pedaled around in Mars' rickshaw, like uneasy royalty, gliding beneath the tall sky walk, bumping through orange cone road work, where a deep trench has been hacked into the road for the light rail. Mars asks a passerby what he thinks of the people mover, as they call it, and he shakes his head and says, it's a waste of damn money<i>.</i> We sweep along chain linked fences and big graffiti walls, in and out of the streets, every other building staring back with a vacant gaze, and we wait for the city sound, but it's quiet, footsteps and friends calling out, here comes trouble! with affection in their voices. Parking garage attendants smile at us and business transplants roll by in identical cars without looking. Now there's a new city hall, while the old one glowers with abandonment, like so many other old structures, regal with copper and brick and ornate paint but dark with loneliness. <br />
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Something hangs in the air, something more than the burnt smell of industry. We eat caramel apples and watch a live drummer play with a DJ at the grand opening of an abstract new mural — it's open to the public but a security guard smiles at us from his post. Yeah it's open to the public, but they're probably not letting in the crackheads<i>,</i> Mars says, stony and unreadable in his dark shades. He says he wasn't schizophrenic until he did too much LSD, and now he tries not to take in too much information at once. He says he doesn't trust the new girl at the cafe yet, she looks stressed as the line piles up, but she digs him out two extra pickles and knows him by name. He tells us about the bike shop and the squat he poured himself into, the greenhouse and the gardens, and the windows he made with old glass bottles and cement. He tells us about being stabbed in the shoulder with a screw driver. He tells us about his disappointment with the projects, all this potential and beauty squandered by a lack of motivation, just a bunch of stoners without the foresight to gather firewood before fall. He doesn't have much to say about home, he doesn't feel any of that in Detroit, but he's going to be here for a while, partially to build a relationship with his father, and they're going hunting next weekend, so...<br />
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Detroit feels so full of possibility; emptied out and purged and burned and battered and ready for something new, ready to burst back up from the broken glass and build something, but the question is what and by whom. Here's a place dense with history and hurt, and so much desire. What can we fill these holes with to make it whole and how can we cradle that history and build upon it without burying it? People are asking themselves, asking their neighbors. <br />
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Detroit is not a blank slate, Harry says over a table full of Lebanese food in Dearborn. He tells us about leaving in 90's, how he'd never expected to be back, but here he is, a week away from buying his home in Brightmoor, a neighborhood hit hard by heroine and crack and yet now full of community gardens, full of boarded up houses that have become murals, poem houses, theater spaces, neighborhood message boards. It's easy to come in and look at all the empty space and think — I could put something here, this could be mine — but it's harder to see all that blank space in the context of its surroundings and its history and to escape the cycle of colonization, the weird white impulse to conquer, and instead make use of that space in a way that considers its impact, that is respectful of the people that never left Detroit. Some people are saying, let's bring Detroit <i>back</i>, to what it once was, but that's not an option, so now there are people like Harry, the skinny white guy that walks his two dogs through Brightmoor every day, and his neighbors with their handmade chicken coop and youth garden market stand, trying to bring Detroit <i>forward</i>. <br />
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We visit RECYCLE HERE! where artists are welding a storage container into a workshop space in an art park with a dinosaur made of junk and cityscapes painted in rubble around a fire pit, by the overpass, filled with stagnant puddles and incredible painting. "War is over!" "Evolve!" "Dear Dad, this is my last letter." We meet factory workers next door that pose with us for a group photo, warm and laughing and present. Across the street, sooty artists laugh, too, snapping a photo of us posing for our photo in front of a the big YOU GO GIRL mural. They lean up against a planter box made of painted tires, smoking cigarettes in overalls and dirty white shirts. They are from Florida and Tennessee, here now to weld, to live in a artist communities like the Treasure Nest. They tells us about underwater caves and queer communities in their home states, they tell us we should be in Detroit for the weekend when there will be a flame thrower and green eggs and jams at dawn. <br />
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When we drive away, in the heavy honey light of the setting sun, dodging potholes and wondering about all the parties we'll miss, we are full of longing and relief and ideas and regret and inspiration and hope. We want to stay longer. We feel that empty-space impulse, too. What could <i>we</i> do with all this crumbling open terrain? We can feel that there is so much more, something amazing being built behind the next turn, something big being dreamed up in the hollow building two blocks down, someone fascinating to talk to drinking coffee in the next neighborhood, but it'll all have to wait. Travel is never ending, a constant unraveling of all the places you want to be and all the ways you can get to know them, all the time you can spend burrowing into the heart of somewhere. Travel is an impossibility, the further you go, the more places you promise to return to, the more you realize you can never do it all. The more things you glimpse, the more you are aware of all the other billions of things that are ceaselessly occurring out of reach and how limited your scope of experience is. All you can hope to do is really be there for the moments you are able to access, to really be in whatever space you are inhabiting now. <br />
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<br />TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-16972240112303995572014-09-21T19:59:00.001-07:002014-09-21T19:59:46.164-07:00Mummies, Museums, Mischief and More!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We've been moving much faster on the second half of our journey — suddenly, time has become our enemy because we are much too Californian to face any kind of real east coast winter, and because we have the goal of reaching Florida, where Colin has rented a condo for a week, by November 1st. So from Utah we headed into the Boulder area to meet up with Nicki, who was staying at an AirBnB where we managed to make a few meals and sneak a shower. Boulder was cold, possibly the coldest temperatures we've experienced yet and one night a little slushy snow even came down on our sleepy van. The weather prevented us from doing most of the outdoorsy stuff Colorado is known for best, but we took a pretty rainy day hike and had some cozy cafe days with Nicki.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xfvaZb9xltA/VB-G_mkwKBI/AAAAAAAACGY/Wwu8hq8X8lI/s1600/IMG_9418.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xfvaZb9xltA/VB-G_mkwKBI/AAAAAAAACGY/Wwu8hq8X8lI/s1600/IMG_9418.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>Once we left Colorado, we were strangely excited to get to Kansas, despite it's reputation as possibly the worst state ever. But a Kansas native had given us a weird tip in Idaho, so we headed to Lucas, Kansas (the grassroots art capitol of Kansas) and checked out The Garden of Eden, a limestone "log" cabin and cement sculpture garden built by an old eccentric veteran and Mason depicting some of his unusual beliefs. SP Dinsmoor, the artist, also actually had his body mummified and entombed on the grounds, so we got to see a moldy dead guy as well.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Le1NLqrwM7o/VB-LKFMJ90I/AAAAAAAACGw/5ZmpFXAfv8M/s1600/IMG_9531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Le1NLqrwM7o/VB-LKFMJ90I/AAAAAAAACGw/5ZmpFXAfv8M/s1600/IMG_9531.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>Our next stop was Lawrence Fucking Kansas, recommended to us as a hip little liberal haven within the state. We couchsurfed with Travis, a Texas native that had a long term house sitting arrangement with an old professor of his, and we spent Saturday night with him and his friend James, sipping fancy cocktails at a speakeasy that purportedly serves freedom as a side with each drink and plate, and then listening to some pretty great music at a dark little jazz bar, and finally getting to meet James' pup Sadie before heading back to the van to snooze. The next day we met James and Sadie for a stroll around the KU campus and then Travis showed us some of his favorite places in Lawrence: a wonderful little used bookstore, a friendly record shop featuring cats in bow ties, a fun little hippy shop, and a smoothie place. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mXNmviCtFOg/VB-MUtZE6KI/AAAAAAAACHE/DP2oNKXVg-Y/s1600/IMG_9675.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-mXNmviCtFOg/VB-MUtZE6KI/AAAAAAAACHE/DP2oNKXVg-Y/s1600/IMG_9675.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>We cruised into Kansas City late at night, urban camped, and then spent some time drinking coffee and jogging in town before continuing onto St. Louis, Missouri, where we arrived at another couchsurfer named Amy's house and hung out with her and her also well-traveled neighbor, Matt. We had more fun than we could possibly imagine just hanging out with them, chatting and laughing and exchanging travel stories as well as talking about home well into the night. The next day, we met a second host, eerily close to Amy's place. Ryan was this hilarious fish expert who happened to be from Northern California. We drank beers and wandered around some St. Louis alleyways, peering into dumpsters and harvesting unloved tomatoes that were dangling outside of people's fences, and our night culminated turning a <i>Contact</i> VHS we found into a drinking game with two of his wonderful friends. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-15eMLtGPQk4/VB-O2HL-5hI/AAAAAAAACHY/3Ch2L8Ou7E0/s1600/IMG_9883.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-15eMLtGPQk4/VB-O2HL-5hI/AAAAAAAACHY/3Ch2L8Ou7E0/s1600/IMG_9883.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>Our last day in St. Louis was spent at the City Museum, this absurd wonderland of crazy interactive art, climbable tree houses, caves, a 10-story slide and a rooftop ferris wheel. We took off in the evening and arrived at our next hosts' house in a Chicago suburb absolutely pooped. Our new hosts, Jordan and Nate, were an unlikely duo — on Ohio native and architecture grad turned print shop manager and an Southern California grad student aspiring for med school. We planned to spend our first day working and jogging respectively and then we'd take the train into the city and see what there was to see, but after the work/jog portion of our day, Jordan locked himself out of the apartment, so instead we drank a bunch of beer in the van until Nate got home and then made him drink a bunch of beer, explored their dusty attic and then ordered a pizza. The next day we actually made it into the city in spite of being public transport novices, and met up with Kelsey's friend Chelsea for a stroll to Millennium Park which was full of iconic art and then we went and had a real Chicago pizza experience at Giordano's where we all got drunk on cheese and carbs and had to waddle back to the train stations to get back to places where we could succumb to the inevitable food coma. <br />
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There are probably a million more things we should have done in Chicago, but cities overwhelm us, so we were actually quite relieved to move on. Next up: Indianapolis. We couldn't find a host here, but Kelsey ran through the city a bit, found some exciting foliage, and Tressa did her coffee shop thing, and then together we walked around Broad Ripple, a kind of collegiate township where we sipped some Indiana beer and people watched at the Triton Tap while the sky throbbed with pink lightning before we had to scurry off the patio and out of the rain. <br />
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TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-74063252258115477162014-09-10T11:26:00.000-07:002014-09-10T11:40:36.598-07:00We're Alive!Hello friends and family, we apologize for falling off the face of the earth for so long, but van life has been quite hectic!<br />
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Last we spoke, we had dipped our toes into Utah for a rodeo — shortly thereafter we plunged into Salt Lake City, where we met up with an old friend of Tressa's for an exhausting but worthwhile uphill hike with an insane elevation gain that ended with a swim in an exhilaratingly icy lake.<br />
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We did some CouchSurfing, first with a charming and goofy Pennsylvania native that had an array of fascinating stories and had acquired an incredible lady dog named Kudra while hiking alone in New Mexico, and who we dubbed Pizza Eric after he fed us some of his delicious homemade specialty dish.<br />
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Later, we "stayed" with a witty Mormon hipster that failed to warn us that he, in fact, lived with his entire Mormon family, and that we had to pretend to be old friends from his mission in California; one of the least comfortable CouchSurfing experiences to date. We checked out the big intimidating temple, experienced the Utah beer struggle, drove past the Great Salt Lake, but decided it smelled icky and passed by to instead enjoy a gorgeous sunset in the Bonneville Salt Flats.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-whXNdGAzfks/VBCNThPbWdI/AAAAAAAACFA/FJX5vYKb0fU/s1600/IMG_8223.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-whXNdGAzfks/VBCNThPbWdI/AAAAAAAACFA/FJX5vYKb0fU/s1600/IMG_8223.jpg" height="200" width="132" /></a>On our way to Reno before Burning Man, we stopped in a little Nevada town called Elko to rest, but discovered that there were CouchSurfing hosts in town, which is town we came to spend a wildly unexpected and wondrous night with Heidi and some of her cohorts, before getting to relax in an air conditioned apartment with their three kitties, Comet, Steak Knife, and Toulouse, scampered about. We soon met her house and soul mate, Kailie, and instantly become fast friends with the dynamic duo. We ended up spending three days in tiny, unassuming Elko, thrifting and crafting, making tasty meals, lounging and laughing with these incredible humans, ultimately making plans to camp with Heidi at Burning Man before we took off to meet Kelsey's dad, Colin, in Reno.<br />
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We stayed with Colin at the Circus Circus in Reno, dragging him along with us to do some last minute Burning Man shopping, and catching up before heading to one of the most classically American pastimes: a baseball game! The $1 hot dogs enhanced the whole experience. The next day we took a day trip to historic Virginia City, where we strolled past old saloons and visited the Fourth Ward Schoolhouse and met an endearing and well-traveled older lady that shared her vast knowledge with us passionately.<br />
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Evan came to Reno to meet us before the Burn, and Colin left the next day, so the three of us caravanned to Sparks, where we stayed with an inviting polyamorous couple that opens their home each year to the multitude of Burners stopping through the area. We met a whole gaggle of interesting folks also getting together last minute goggles and bike lights, and shared a meal of Twin Palms veggies that Evan brought out to us. <br />
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To write in detail about our three collective burns would require so much more than we can put here. If you've been to Burning Man, you know that the experience is a multi-layered explosion of self-exploration, fun, fire, and friendship almost too big and varied to put into words. Already this year was crazy, because we once we got into line, we were struck by a lightning storm, complete with a downpour of rain and hail that caused the gates to close and prevented vehicles from moving for something like 12 hours. However within slightly over 24 hours, we made it inside, set up camp, and had a magical week filled with donut holes, puns, wind and dust and magic, coincidence and gifts, bloody marys, and heckling, and we all emerged exhausted and satisfied and dirty, and all caught colds immediately after our return to the default world. <br />
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Our trip took an unusual twist after Burning Man, when we decided to return to our Sparks CouchSurfing hosts to take hot showers and do some laundry, as well as share a barbeque dinner and some stories with our hosts and some other dusty souls. Afterwards, in another unusual turn of events, we backtracked again and returned to our new feline-loving friends in Elko, where we both agreed we felt strangely at home, making use of their kitchen casually, giving Kailie a ride to work and bugging Heidi for scones at the coffee shop where she works. We had such a wonderful time with our Elko tribe, we felt as if we could stay forever, but, of course, adventure called, so we embarked on yet another travel déjà vu and returned to Pizza Eric and Kudra, who we added to our two-car caravan.<br />
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The four (well, five if you count our four-legged friend) of us headed to drizzly Uinta hot springs for some glorious egg-fart scented lounging, and then to Goblin Valley, where we camped. In the morning, Eric, who happens to be a bonafide outdoorsman, took us canyoneering for the first time — essentially hiking, scrambling, and occasionally sloshing, wading and stemming (propping ourselves with our legs and our buns and shuffling over wet crevices) through Ding and Dang canyons, passing Kudra over the steeper drops, much to her dismay. It was quite the adventure.</div>
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The next day Eric left, taking Kudra and our cold with him, and we headed to awe-inspiring Arches National Park, where we did a bit of exploring and watched a dramatic sunset and a nearly-full moonrise.<br />
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We left Utah yesterday, headed for Colorado to see the Four Corners Monument. We simultaneously celebrated three months of travel and Evan's last day sharing our journey with us by treating ourselves to margaritas, incredible Mexican food, and a shabby motel room. Today, we said our goodbyes, and as Evan turned and headed west for California, we are continuing east to visit a good friend in Boulder, Colorado.</div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TaaLyc93J9U/U-gFq5J3ICI/AAAAAAAACCc/8L-0KJ2sgQc/s1600/IMG_5731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TaaLyc93J9U/U-gFq5J3ICI/AAAAAAAACCc/8L-0KJ2sgQc/s1600/IMG_5731.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>But the second day we were stationed at the biggest ride in the area, a four story water slide and that's when things got a little...slippery. Our 12 hour shift included next to zero instruction, lot's of criticism for our grumbling old man boss, who was incapable of actually answering questions, lot's and lot's of mud — essentially standing in a mud pit for hours on end while trying to wrangle children and clean kiddy pools that were supposed to serve to clean kids' dirty feet before they got on the ride, it included horrible parents actively encouraging their kids to ignore our instruction, forcing their too-small kids to climb up the ride, even when they'd failed to do so three times previous and ended up in tears, incredibly rude children and ultimately a soggy, filthy, disgusting sense of loathing for all humanity and especially for everything related to inflatable water slides. We both concluded that we preferred a rice-only diet and perpetual constipation to this kind of horeshit employment. Thanks but no thanks, Magic Bounce. Instead of working our third shift, we went to Minnesota and stayed with some wonderful humans at a cooperative in Minneapolis, took some hard-earned showers and enjoyed a musical potluck.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ssxmy7RNmTM/U-gFtxR8LcI/AAAAAAAACCs/QJVm02FNQ7M/s1600/IMG_7119.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ssxmy7RNmTM/U-gFtxR8LcI/AAAAAAAACCs/QJVm02FNQ7M/s1600/IMG_7119.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a>After our adventures in Wisconsin, chronicled in our guest blog by Tressa's mom, we turned back West and re-entered Minnesota. This time we headed to Duluth, a cute little town where we stayed with a wonderful grandmotherly goddess named Gene in a magical colorful house full of treasures and treats. Gene talked to us about her huge family and her many adventures, she fed us, gave us wonderful thrift shop suggestions, and sent us on our way with beautiful stones and even a hearty plant to replace some of our more miserable succulents. <br />
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We continued West from Minnesota and met up with Evan (Tressa's boy) and his father, who were on a big fast-paced road trip around the country together. We joined forces for a little trip to Yellowstone, where we were rained on relentlessly, but still enjoyed the vast and beautiful national park with its incredible plains, and its colorful and smelly mud pots, hot springs, and geysers. We spotted elk, moose, more bison, and lot's of other small critters. It was fun joining up with another traveling duo, sharing meals and sharing stories, even in the rain. <br />
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After we parted ways, the two of them continued into the Pacific timezone and we two meandered into the Grand Tetons where we took a gorgeous and rainy lake-side hike and spent some time with a goofy looking moose before heading back into Idaho. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Laj_FipZbh4/U-gGK2e4FbI/AAAAAAAACDE/QRtJCNgEafU/s1600/IMG_7588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Laj_FipZbh4/U-gGK2e4FbI/AAAAAAAACDE/QRtJCNgEafU/s1600/IMG_7588.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a>We broke our record for not showering, 5 days for Tressa and 6 for Kelsey, but were lucky enough to find another great host in tiny Twin Falls, Idaho. Tasha had a super creative space, filled with handmade art and thrifted knick knacks, and we were able to make some new friends, both human and animal. We also got a chance to meet with one of Kelsey's mom's childhood friends in Twin Falls, and did some more Burning Man thrifting. Kelsey even got a bike, which is now haphazardly bungeed and bike locked to our roof! <br />
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Kelsey's cousin Riann lives in Idaho, so we scooped her up on our way into Logan, Utah, where we got our first taste of the rodeo, a rowdy experience made all the stranger by the fact that Utah is so vehemently anti-alcohol that you can't even get beer at the fair. However, junk food was in hot demand. <br />
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Now, we're spending a relaxing day in Logan, working on all our various projects before we do some more CouchSurfing. We both feel quite strange creeping our way back towards the West Coast, knowing we will eventually be less than four hours from home, but that our journey is only a third over and we will not be re-entering California for a long while yet.TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-4672899044048144942014-08-07T11:50:00.000-07:002014-08-07T11:50:29.043-07:00Vanlife: Rest Stop Breakfast VideoRecently we noticed that Kelsey's YouTube channel was getting a slow stream of subscribers, and our van-tour video reached nearly 3,000 views with a handful of comments requesting more videos, so we decided to put together a little video showing some of our peculiar breakfast-cooking routine. We actually tried to make breakfast at a park near the Walmart we'd camped at the previous night, but right as we set up, someone showed up with a lawn mower and any hopes of being heard on camera were lost. We actually had to cross the border from Michigan back into Wisconsin to get to the rest stop (which was also a Wisconsin DMV!) where we ended up filming, in spite of the ruckus of the cars and trucks passing along the freeway. More mishaps ensued, some more hilarious than others, and this is what we ended up with:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/HI-k2HURR8U" width="560"></iframe><br /><br />We've checked out a few other van life video channels and noticed that a lot of people are more polished and spend more energy showing you how you<i> should</i> travel or giving you handy tips, but this video is definitely more just a snapshot of our messy imperfect lives — we didn't really know what we were going to end up with, but what we did get is just us being our strange selves. TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-77825245037164005412014-07-30T17:35:00.000-07:002014-08-07T00:14:14.696-07:00An Outside Perspective<i>The following is an account of our five days in Waukesha, Wisconsin (just outside Milwaukee) with Tressa's mother, who agreed to guest blog for us and share her perspective on the visit. We had such a wonderful time in Wisconsin and feel very fortunate to be able to get and share some insight from a third party!</i><br />
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Heading back to the airport, I find myself looking around the van that has carted me back and forth to classes, to our motel miscellaneous stores for the past five days. I take in the mix of chaos and order — clothes hanging, boxes neatly tucked beneath a large comfy platform bed, the maps, the phone chargers, the random pairs of shoes, the cute little touches of hand sewn curtains, a succulent plant hanging on for dear life.<br />
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From the outside, you'd steer clear. The "rape van" joke is a pretty accurate assertion as the first impression one might have. I recall the airport pick up on my first day: the big, white, bug encrusted, lumbering American-made mass rumbling into the airport lines, and in front, in their beloved captain seats, both beautiful and quirky, Tressa and Kelsey. They had navigated through shiny taxis and late model cars, parked, and hopped out to greet me. I was promptly cheesed with a Wisconsin cheese hat, followed by an excited group hug.<br />
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There they were, happily adjusted to this life, their van life. Nearly two months into their seven month journey, driving barefoot and sweaty, excited for the next chapter, in which they would join me for a respite of hot showers and meals, while I would take my fifth and final insurance class and test for a hard earned designation I had started four years earlier.<br />
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I had coordinated this last class all the way to Wisconsin in order to intersect with the girls' travel path through the United States. Regardless of where the timing coordinated us, we planned to get in a day of visiting and sightseeing. And so it was Waukesha, Wisconsin of all places. <br />
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I was unable to secure a room at the fancier Marriott where my classes were to be held, so we settled for what seemed to be a family style Ramada Inn nearby. Though the rooms and service were borderline shabby, the atmosphere and lackadaisical attitude were a much better fit for the five day lifestyle we chose. I had no desire to pay extra to house two more adults, though I did request two queen beds. Could I have ever snuck past the snooty Marriott desk with two giggling girls, several bags of food, dishes, a propane stove, and a large sticker-covered ice chest? I am not so sure. <br />
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The Ramada could care less. By day two we were utilizing the camp stove, frying potatoes and eggs, boiling rice, sauteing veggies, and making sandwich wraps from the ice chest filled with a never ending supply of motel ice. Between that and the early morning continental breakfast kitchen, these girls had surely rubbed off on me; I joined in, capitalizing on free food and preparing cheap meals with them. In the most recent weeks prior to our meeting, they had taken to sustaining solely on cooked rice for some days at a time in an effort to save money, so the motel life was like a vacation for them. For me, it was downright fun.<br />
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The first day they dropped me off for my class in front of the Marriott, they sent me off with motherly advice such as, "Make good choices!" Their afternoon pic up was even more precarious as they arrived wearing mustaches and captain hats. In true van captor fashion they hollered, "Get in the van!" at me. Oh my...<br />
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And so the next few days went — some of which included them posting up at the fancy Marriott for a steady of supply of free wifi, quality coffee with real cream, as well as pastries and cookies from my classes, which I supplied at each hourly break. I received some amused and skeptical glances from fellow classmates as I climbed in and out of the unlikely vehicle each day, making the entire even that much more hilarious.<br />
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My studies were intense, but between note cards and reading, I was still able to enjoy and witness their easy banter, their daily lists of projects and crafts, and the plotting of their upcoming destinations. I got to see how they worked with each other in and out of the small space, how they wordlessly took turns with the various tasks of driving or navigating, cooking or cleaning. They clearly had developed a routine and a way with their travels. They were diligent in the home check ins, their writing and photography, and yet seemed to take in the world around them. <br />
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There was quiet reflective time, there was dancing and loud music, cooking and food prep, chatting and grocery shopping. They endured my endless out-loud ramblings as I rattled off insurance definitions, concepts and calculations, even in my sleep! And finally the Saturday morning, following my two and a half hour exam, we were able to do some Milwaukee sightseeing! The girls were very excited about taking a Pabst beer tour, which has developed a bit of a cult following.<br />
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I think what I found most amusing about this tour was coming directly from a Risk Management class, to a beer drinking group tour through the facility's construction zone where the owner excitedly shared his plans of creating a Beer, Bed & Breakfast suite, complete with beer on tap in each bed's headboard. Was he serious? The tour continued through cords and ladders, debris and dust. And the best? One of the carpenters watching us from atop a story-high scaffolding in the middle of this construction, enjoying a PBR! Oh the risk, the risk, the risk! I just couldn't believe it.<br />
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So what better way to dive into this debacle, but to make friends with him AND with the owner after our tour? We discovered them both to extremely kindhearted and full of stories of the various states represented in their facility tours. I did my best to draw out of them some thoughts relating to home and what it means to them, in the interest of the girls' trip theme. The girls appreciated my outgoing nature and were happy to join in. I took several pictures of them in front of the Captain Pabst statue and we drew some glances as I shouted, "Talk to the camera, speak to me!" while they struck various poses.<br />
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The day continued, once filled with lofty ideas of getting tattoos and singing at a karaoke bar, to snacks and rented RedBox movies back at the Inn. After many hours of walking around town, watching the lift bridge and the boats passing through, losing my beloved Pabst souvenir T-shirt at either a Spy Cafe or an Irish Pub — both too annoying to write about, we three rather craved to climb into our beds to watch movies instead.<br />
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A greasy diner breakfast in the morning, and back to the airport I am taken. I surprised myself in the back of the van with a large lump in my throat. I was just so happy for them, sad to leave, amazed at their adventure, impressed by their courage, terrified of them backing up the large van in parking lots. (It's one big blind spot, that thing!) They had their next stop planned: camping in Michigan, then a new couchsurfing host in Duluth, Minnesota.<br />
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Being a mother of a beautiful young daughter, traveling the way she does, I get that people often worry or wonder about her safety. Tressa has been traveling since she was 16. She is such a mix of wit and innocence. She plans and she frets. She laughs and she loves. Kelsey, who I have known and loved since she was a preteen has this easy way of shrugging off the little worries and diving into tasks with a can-do attitude. Between the two of them, they seem to have it all dialed in. They are careful to lock up, to close their blinds; they have each others' back and these girls mean business.<br />
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Tressa texted me later that last day, reflecting that I have managed to join her in every one of her big trips. I hope she continues and that I am able to pop in again at all the various stages of her life. I hope they both push against the pressures of what society says it means to grow up and follow their dreams this way, meeting different people in different places all around the world. The perspective, the empathy, the openness of it all. These girls are truly inspiring. I say, carry on ladies. Thank you for letting me join the fun. <br />
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-Cheryl Fessenden<br />
<i>(Tressa's mother and one of our most supportive donors and followers!) </i><br />
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<i><br /></i>TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-19236941671326757572014-07-17T18:58:00.000-07:002014-07-17T18:58:30.090-07:00Omaha to Iowa: More Weird Times in the Midwest<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RHGngLt4NH0/U8h75A8AZXI/AAAAAAAACBg/9OGk7mjMP6M/s1600/IMG_1207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RHGngLt4NH0/U8h75A8AZXI/AAAAAAAACBg/9OGk7mjMP6M/s1600/IMG_1207.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a>As with many places, we arrive in Omaha, Nebraska without
much expectation. It’s hard to thoroughly research every town that matters in
every state in the country. Instead, we float from place to place, ask around
and see what catches our interest. What really ends up thrilling us about Omaha
is that there’s a Trader Joe’s. We haven’t been to a TJ’s since we were in
Washington and it’s actually incredible how happy we are to be back that
health-conscious poor kid haven, grabbing at our favorite crackers, curry
sauce, salad greens… We fill up our hand basket until it’s uncomfortable to
carry and take turns lugging it around, trying to be frugal but unable to
contain our ravenous excitement. The cashier gives us a new set of stickers and
recommends we check out the Market District.
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The Market District has old-fashioned brick streets and big
vintage looking murals, small shops that remind us of Sebastopol and
restaurants that make us wish we were real adults that could afford to travel
around, eating in highly recommended restaurants and tasting local craft beers.
It rains on us for a while, still warm, and then the sun breaks through again.<br />
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We find a Couchsurfing host in Des Moines, Iowa, and decide
to cut Omaha short since it’s a little hard to get to know without much
guidance. Sanjay is from India but is getting his Masters at the University of
Iowa and doing an internship in Des Moines. He talks to us about being from a
city of 20 million people and then moving to the Midwest, how at first all the
silence scared him, and although he has very little in the way of
recommendations for things to do in town, he says he likes it here, it’s a more
peaceful life. The next morning we come up to the apartment early before he
leaves for his internship, and cook in his kitchen in silence while his
housemate snores on the living room floor, which appears to be a routine. We
head to Grays Lake, at their recommendation, and as soon as we park climb into
the back and fall back asleep. </div>
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Des Moines is cool and breezy, which is a relief. After our
nap we walk into town and find an incredible little coffee shop called Ritual
Cafe, with this wonderful warm red interior and an entirely vegetarian menu. As
we sit and work, a woman starts carrying in and stacking boxes of produce and
suddenly we realize she’s setting up her CSA pick up. Although we are eating
neither the food on the café menu nor the local produce being sold, simply
being in the presence of the CSA bustle fills us with happiness, the
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After working in the café we explore Des Moines a bit and
enjoy the fascinating sculpture garden, complete with this insane rainbow prism
sculpture that you can walk inside of. We are retroactively surprised that
Sanjay had so little to say about this sweet little city. We spend the rest of
the evening by the lake and then continue east, towards Iowa City, where we
camp in yet another Walmart. </div>
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We park the van at a fairly central park where we cook
breakfast and shoo away gnats and flies that no one else seems quite as phased
by, and then Kelsey “jogsplores” while Tressa lodges herself in an overpriced
café to work. In the evening, we head to a bar called The Yacht Club where a
jam session is underway and where they have a cheap PBR special. We sip beer
and watch a strange collection of musicians work their way through free-style
hip hop, blues, and some jazz until we hear a loud clang and inadvertently make
the acquaintance of a self proclaimed alcoholic that’s missing most of his
front teeth and had just dropped a large glass bottle of hard alcohol on the
ground. He immediately took a liking to us, especially Kelsey. He tells her
repeatedly that she’s, “A beautiful ass girl,” but that he wishes she’d take
off her glasses. Much to his amusement, she threatens to break her glasses and
stab him with the shards, and he feigns terror. We leave shortly thereafter,
somewhat tired anyway.</div>
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eye in a building just behind the bar we were in. We follow the commotion and
suddenly find ourselves in a drag bar in Iowa, of all places. What are the
odds? It’s interesting because the performers are definitely not quite on the
Seattle ladies’ level, but it’s still a lot of fun and we befriend a group of
seemingly straight guys, all in shorts and sandals. They all teach at the
college, although they aren’t much older than us, and it’s actually one guy’s
birthday. Although we still aren’t sure why they chose to celebrate at the gay
bar, it’s the first and possibly only time we’ll ever witness a presumably
straight bro-type in a camo hat and camo mandals get caught in a gay biracial
grind sandwich and be okay with it — a glorious sight to behold. <br />
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When the bar closes, we make our way back to the van, parked
conveniently near a the College Green, where we are able to have a picnic
breakfast in the morning before meandering through downtown Iowa City and checking
out the sidewalk sales and boutiques. We
continue to be surprised by these little towns. The Midwest ain’t so bad.</div>
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<br />TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-17022937641880362632014-07-12T21:58:00.000-07:002014-07-12T21:58:07.647-07:00Couchsurfing & Camping in the Midwest<style> <!--
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exhaust and fried food. Tressa is wearing an absurd red cowboy hat she got from
a thrift store for four dollars and an old man calls her cowgirl, so we know
we’re not blending in. It’s hot and loud and thrilling for a while. We see
mothers bouncing three-month-old babies at intermission, while the announcer
says not to go nowhere, corrects his own grammar, and then does it again. The
little boy behind us is cheering for his mom, driving a red white and blue
striped beater that gets shoved out of arena.</div>
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Hot Springs, South Dakota is like traveling back in time,
all faded red brick facades in one little strip. We drive to the Cascade Falls
natural pool and swim for a while, hoping the chilly water will wash some of
the sticky Midwestern heat off our skin. We are officially in the Midwest. We
see bumper stickers like, “Don’t blame me, I voted for the American” and big
billboards proclaiming, “Life is a gift, not a choice.” We park in what we
think will be a quiet neighborhood to sleep, and are perplexed by the voices
carrying up and down the street, footsteps at 1am on a Sunday in a town less
than four square miles in total. We wake up between roadblocks in a
construction zone and while Kelsey jogs Tressa discovers that the two coffee
shops in town have both been shut down. <br />
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The Wind Cave National Park is obviously renowned for it’s
cave, but tours are expensive so we opt out and amuse ourselves photographing
bison, meandering through the hot, windy hills and trying to get close to
prairie dogs. We have a couchsurfing host in Rapid City that warns us that
parking for Mt. Rushmore is absurdly expensive, so we cruise past the monument,
which is strange and small in the face of the awe-inspiring black hills, all
that immense rock, jutting out in round, bulbous formations. We pull to the
side of the road and take a few photos. </div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yns5XjqwhI0/U8IPC71kuPI/AAAAAAAAB_w/E4c_w1BxlZE/s1600/IMG_4997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yns5XjqwhI0/U8IPC71kuPI/AAAAAAAAB_w/E4c_w1BxlZE/s1600/IMG_4997.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>Every now and then you meet a person and you wish they were
a character you had invented, that their life was a story you’d written. Our
host in Rapid City is like that, this tattooed twenty something with a beer in
hand, two kids, and a quiet tow-headed friend that lives in a tent when he’s
not sleeping on the couch. He shows us the wine he’s making, the kombucha he’s
brewing, the greenhouse he’s building and the aquaponics system he envisions
for it. He shows us the squirrel he is training squirrel to eat from his hand,
and takes us to Cabela’s in his beat up hotwired Ford with a chair nailed to
the floor as a backseat, a much more legit rape van than even our bulky Chevy.
At Capela’s we lay on cots, try on absurd camo outfits, photograph the stuffed
bears and buffalo, and Skyler shops for his new home — a hefty 16x14 tent
with a chimney. All he needs now, he says, is somewhere to put his
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We don’t know what to expect when we head to The Badlands
National Park, and it blows our minds. It’s insanely gorgeous, chalky red
striped rock formations where big horned sheep take leisurely naps and then
rolling prairie hillsides full of more bison and more prairie dogs and
unfortunately, biting flies and mosquitoes for days. But their primitive
campground is <i>free</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. We camp there for
two days, hike around, enjoy an incredible sunset over the rocks and some
beautiful clear starry skies. On the second night, we nearly run into an
ENORMOUS bison that’s lurking in the ditch, contemplating crossing the dirt
road we’re driving down in the pitch black. Later, we read that the bison is
actually considered more dangerous than a grizzly bear. Terrifying. </span><br />
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We find a couchsurfing host in Sioux Falls, one of the
easternmost cities in South Dakota, and actually the biggest city in the state.
We arrive loopy and full of weird energy and are excited to find that our hosts
are a group of fabulously entertaining goofy men. They try and teach us to play
a drinking game that we fail at miserably, and we all go to the bar and have a
wonderful night involving PBR, Phil Collins karaoke, and riding in the trunk of
someone’s car. In the morning, we indulge in pizza and <i>Lord of the Rings</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> before rousing ourselves to head to a little lake
for some lazy fun in the sun. Now we’re headed South to check out Omaha,
Nebraska before spending some time in Iowa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-41036691258989289492014-07-09T16:56:00.000-07:002014-07-09T16:56:02.865-07:00Wondering & Wandering: One Month on the RoadOne month has passed and here we are, mosquito bitten in our tin can beneath the expansive South Dakota sky, all those stars glimmering nakedly for miles; here we are still so full of awe and so full of questions, constantly wondering if we are doing this right and if we are seeing the right things and if we have learned anything at all.<br />
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On good days we feel so alive, we feel American, all fat and grassy and bitter, all humming and hot and dry, all red, all white, all blue, all of the strangeness of her coursing through our veins. On bad days we are tiny, cringing, awkward foreigners, carrying our own fears along long stretches of highway, isolated and incapable of understanding anything more than the scope of our introversion, the impossibility of what we've set out to do, what we've proclaimed our mission.<br />
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But there is something amazing about every weird day. Even as I fall behind, scrambling helplessly beneath of weight of all the anecdotes that seem so pivotal, of all the characters pouring in and out of my memory like so many cars along the Interstate, crisscrossing imaginary divides, I am listening to coyotes howl in the Badlands of South Dakota, and tomorrow I will wake up beside a prairie dog town and get bitten by flies while I drink coffee with one of the best people I've ever met. We have to keep reminding ourselves to ask questions, but also that answers aren't really the point.<br />
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TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-80123952327497604392014-07-02T18:12:00.000-07:002014-07-03T20:24:41.281-07:00Eastward through the Wild West.<div class="MsoBodyText">
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uaSo5XcYpCI/U7SjVslbJmI/AAAAAAAAB-E/ozPfv3FHyME/s1600/IMG_4244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uaSo5XcYpCI/U7SjVslbJmI/AAAAAAAAB-E/ozPfv3FHyME/s1600/IMG_4244.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>Spokane is the
first place thus far where we find a host via Couchsurfing — a young
married couple that invites us into their home and shares a tasty BBQ
dinner with us. We play bocce ball with them and chat over strawberry rhubarb
cobbler. It’s interesting to talk to Joe and Sarah about home because the two
of them are actually from the same town in Wyoming and have some differing
experiences with their hometown and with making Spokane a home, plus they’re
about to sell their house and embark on an adventure together teaching English
in France for a year. The next day after a delicious breakfast and coffee
routine with our wonderful hosts, we each explore Spokane in our own ways and
find it to be quite a friendly place.</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U-90CEEE9lc/U7SjYMuaNhI/AAAAAAAAB-M/ZMNCrFYa3lA/s1600/IMG_4311.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-U-90CEEE9lc/U7SjYMuaNhI/AAAAAAAAB-M/ZMNCrFYa3lA/s1600/IMG_4311.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>Next, we head to the Idaho Panhandle, to go see Kelsey’s
stepmom’s aunt Donna (whew, what a title!) Donna lives down a rural gravel
driveway with one of her daughters, who has <i>her </i><span style="font-style: normal;">grandchildren, two adorable little girls about 5 and 10 years of age,
visiting. By dinnertime, there’s a full house, 9 of us sitting down to eat
together. It’s definitely a different lifestyle, but everyone is incredibly
kind and hospitable. After dinner, we watch a sheep get sheared and show the
girls our van. They speculate on various ways to stowaway and travel with us. </span></div>
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The next day we head to Coeur D’Alene and spend some time
sitting in a grassy park, working on a little crafts projects together before
visiting a farmers market and getting some tasty snap peas for the road. </div>
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It’s getting dark as we cross the Montana border and cruise
through more and more rural stretches of highway, glimpsing snatches of water
and mountainous shapes in the darkness. The next day is gloomy and rainy. We
drive to Whitefish, a cute little town near Glacier National Park. We have a
bit of the rainy day blues, so we spend some time sitting in a cute café,
sipping mochas and working on plans, before driving to the park. </div>
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Due to what we’ll call an “accidental scenic detour,” we
arrive at Glacier a bit later than intended, so we get a camping site and spend
some time cleaning and organizing the van before having a cozy dinner and
conking out. In the morning, the gloom is beginning to burn off a bit, so we
take a hike along McDonald Creek, which is awfully big and fast moving for a
creek. The scenery is beautiful, the water is this icy blue green,
rushing past and dark craggy mountains loom up ahead, shrouded in theatrical
mist. We get drizzled on a bit, but don’t mind much in our raincoats. We even
come across this gorgeous and nonchalant buck, zigzagging his way lazily across
the trail and nibbling at the lush moss. He paws at it with one hoof and looks
at us warily for a moment before bending to his knees to resume his vigorous
snacking.</div>
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After this hike we still
feel like we’ve got a little energy left, so we decide to hit one more little
mile loop nearby, but after walking a half a mile or so, it begins POURING, and I
mean POURING. Our legs are soaked through and we’re worried about the contents
of our backpacks, so we decide to turn back and promptly get lost-ish and end
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I7hRmIgaqj0/U7SiAIYsBiI/AAAAAAAAB90/O9EMRkRoHps/s1600/IMG_4694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I7hRmIgaqj0/U7SiAIYsBiI/AAAAAAAAB90/O9EMRkRoHps/s1600/IMG_4694.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>Our next stop is Missoula, a town that’s come highly
recommended to us and where Weyaka, a family friend and basically Tressa's fairy
Godmother, lives. The weather is still weird and gloomy, so we’re glad to have
a cozy place where we feel incredibly at home to hang out and pet three quirky kitties<span style="font-style: normal;">. </span><span style="font-style: normal;"> In Missoula we
visit a farmers market, spend some time shopping with Weyaka, her man, and his
daughter at an adorable boutique, do our usual wandering, coffee shop and
jogging routine, check out the space where Weyaka is setting up her own fabulous bohemian boutique and chat with her about
what’s it’s like to be a Californian creative living in Montana for love. We
feel like our batteries have been recharged when we leave Missoula on Monday,
headed for Billings. </span><br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zULqKq9OLTw/U7SrDMQYjzI/AAAAAAAAB-c/D7_1wmuVm18/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zULqKq9OLTw/U7SrDMQYjzI/AAAAAAAAB-c/D7_1wmuVm18/s1600/photo.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>Billings is the biggest “city” in Montana, but it’s hazy, small and kind of meth-y We see a band called Geographer play at a cool
little venue that has some alternative looking people in it and really enjoy
the music. It’s fun to go out and try and pretend we’re real youths and not
just old ladies in disguise. In the morning, we have breakfast at McCormick’s
Café, “where locals eat” and walk around a bit. It’s kind of a weird place, and
we wonder if there’s a better part of town we should be in. We make the mistake
of trying to get Mexican food in Montana, the first place where someone
responds to Tressa's request for a vegetarian burrito by saying, “What?” They concede
to give her a burrito with everything but the meat and somehow she ends up eating "an $8 bean and cheese burrito that tastes like bitter, bitter disappointment."</div>
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Anyway, instead of heading to North Dakota, we’ve decided to
dip down into Wyoming first before heading further East. Wish us luck seeing
some dope wildlife.<br />
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Tressa & Kelsey<br />
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TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-10828211560125481242014-06-24T21:22:00.000-07:002014-06-24T21:22:05.775-07:00So long, Seattle!<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OZeUiasauQI/U6oCJW_8kcI/AAAAAAAAAao/XZt5nTz9wiA/s1600/10460623_1631208203770451_6415160415619038321_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OZeUiasauQI/U6oCJW_8kcI/AAAAAAAAAao/XZt5nTz9wiA/s1600/10460623_1631208203770451_6415160415619038321_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>It's hard to convey just how much fun we had in Seattle. We had a <i>lot</i> of fun. In Seattle we were hosted by Kelsey's cousin Kyle, his boyfriend, Ben, and his wonderful apartment mates. Before we even arrived at the apartment, we had a sense that we were going to like Seattle, just walking through Capitol Hill and looking around us at the shops and street art. Although Kyle was working our first evening in town, Ben met up with us and showed us around a bit, split an amazing cupcake with us and took us to gorgeous Gas Works Park where we could see the city skyline as the sun set. This enchanting start to our stay was slightly mitigated by the fact that Seattle also gave us our first parking ticket, and the fact that it took us about two hours to find a place we could actually park without acquiring anymore tickets. Ouch. <br /><br /><br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DZAYnaAEUrk/U6oCW6RI1YI/AAAAAAAAAas/ZiCrP58sw1g/s1600/10497328_1631208380437100_5615329882993048503_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DZAYnaAEUrk/U6oCW6RI1YI/AAAAAAAAAas/ZiCrP58sw1g/s1600/10497328_1631208380437100_5615329882993048503_o.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>Evan drove up to see us from Chico, which put some shed some light on how little distance we've really covered, although we both feel as though we've been living in a van for much longer than we have been. We visited Pike Place Market, which was wonderful and overwhelming, watched fishmongers tossing huge fish at their customers, enjoyed a piroshki, listened to a soulful troupe of singers outside the original Starbucks (which we did not enter - that line was ridonk...), and were vaguely grossed out by the famous gum alley. <br /><br />One night, Ben took us to visit Kyle at Japonessa, the incredible sushi restaurant where he works, and he sent us a billion tasty things as we sipped on fancy mixed drinks and waited for the rolls we ordered. It was possibly one of the yummiest meals of our lives. We highly recommend the spicy tomato tofu. <br /><br />On Kyle's night off, we made two big lasagnas for him, Ben, their roommates, Breck and Jay, and their friend Andrew. He mixed us cosmos and we played Cards Against Humanity while we waited for it to bake, and then we downed some beer and some wine, hit the bars and even went to our very first drag show. Those ladies kicked ass, we had so much fun, and everyone else was having so much fun, the energy was contagious. After the show, the stage became a dance floor, flanked by booty shaking cowboys and we got our groove on in a serious way. <br /><br /><br />
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<br />Due to the strenuous amounts of fun we had the night before, we missed most of the Fremont Solstice Parade, which apparently features thousands of naked, body painted cyclists, but we bussed into town in time to catch a few naked stragglers and check out the festival, and we made our way to the Fremont bridge to scope out the famous Fremont troll. <br /><br />On our way out of town, we stopped at Snoqualmie Falls and checked out the Salish Lodge, where a lot of the filming for the hotel in Twin Peaks was filmed. We found it a little strange that there was no mention of the show anywhere, but soon after found Twede's Cafe, "Home of Twin Peaks cherry pie, and a damn fine cup of coffee," and almost lost it. This was us at our most touristy, and we had no choice but to get pie and coffee. It was a pretty strange shift to go from gorgeous, progressive Seattle, to this weird down, where the waitress seemed offended by our presence and didn't mention that there was no such thing as a "small" order of onion rings and instead grumpily brought us a huge, expensive plate of rings that we begrudgingly demolished. There was really no good place to stay in North Bend, so we headed East towards our next destination, Spokane, and crashed in another Walmart lot. <br /><br /><br />
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TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-52114483394586676552014-06-20T16:31:00.000-07:002014-06-20T17:04:12.939-07:00From Portland to Puget SoundIn Portland, we stay with Emily, Derek, and their three kids; this charming, laughing family that surprises us with their goofiness in their adorable house, where we wedge our van so far up the narrow driveway we dread trying to back it out. Portland is drizzly and wet and colorful, we fall in love with the houses, we drink endless coffee, explore Powell's bookstore and snack at the food carts. Our time in Portland, like much of our journey thus far, is meandering and slow. We walk up and down the streets, linger over our coffees and chat with the Clayton family about street art and the ways Portland has changed over the years. <br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UhIsgDJ2TpA/U6TFb_pKJUI/AAAAAAAAB9E/xCqXcnsbQP4/s1600/IMG_3385.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UhIsgDJ2TpA/U6TFb_pKJUI/AAAAAAAAB9E/xCqXcnsbQP4/s1600/IMG_3385.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a>We spend our last night on Alberta Street with a high school friend who takes us to a number of bars, including one filled with cat themed art — the night culminates in a few drunken interviews that we're pretty excited about. All in all, we enjoy Portland, the coffee and the cutesy food trucks and handmade zines, but something about the bustling adorableness is also slightly exhausting, so we're excited to take off for the Olympic National Forest. <br />
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The drive to Washington is short and beautiful, lush green hillsides dotted with wildflowers, snowy mountains looming in the distance. We stop in Olympia to get groceries, now that we've picked up our cooler from the REI in Portland, and spend some time organizing the van. Olympia is refreshingly small and drivable, and although we don't see much of it, we get good vibes. We camp out in a Walmart parking lot and visit the farmer's market in the morning to snag some veggies to take camping. The market is bustling with musicians and portraits artists, greens, fruit and honey, homemade soaps and lotions, succulents and knitted goods. We feel at home sniffing at the soaps, sipping coffee, petting a few dogs and finally purchasing some chard and broccoli. </div>
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We pass some elk on our way up the peninsula and pull into tiny Forks as the sun is sinking lower in the sky. What we aren't aware of is the fact that the Twilight series is set in Forks, so there is a crazy amount of vampire-fiction related tourist stuff. We spend the night in a rest stop/van pool parking lot and in the morning try and talk to the woman in the visitor center about hot springs but all she wants to talk about is Twilight. <br />
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The next day we walk to another waterfall on our way out, then take a long winding drive that's not entirely paved to get up to the Hurricane Ridge viewpoint of Mt. Olympus we didn't quite make it to on the previous day. It's a breathtaking panoramic view of snow caps, complete with fluffy munching deer. Afterwards, we drive to Port Angeles and overstay our welcome at an adorable cafe, finally making some progress on planning the next steps of our journey, contacting some folks in East Washington, Idaho, and Montana. We sleep in another Walmart parking lot and in the morning make our way to the Bainbridge Ferry to cross the Puget Sound to Seattle, where we are currently and somewhat belatedly writing this update!<br />
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TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-47619103034232832062014-06-11T20:02:00.000-07:002014-06-11T23:36:47.508-07:00Caffeine, Craters & ConnectionsIn Ashland we stop at a coffee shop that feels like the Barlow — all bright wood, clean lines, burnished metal and latte foam leaves. In Medford we find a Trader Joe's, a mecca of familiar and affordable snacks; we climb onto the van rooftop in the parking lot, eating our eggplant wraps and salad and smiling at a few passersby. <br />
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A man named Ken pumps our gas and grins at us through the window. "Now you've met your first Oregon weirdo," he says.<br />
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Crater Lake stretches wide and blue, the bluest blue. Older couples chat about their luxury campers, children hurl snowballs at their parents, and I pet every dog in sight. Kelsey and I pick wildflowers and huff up hill to stare at the expansive green-blue view. I sprinkle a handful of my grandpa's ashes into the wind, thinking of him as we pass a cluster of big bikes in the parking lot.<br />
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In Eugene we meet Arnita, a friend of a friend who remembers me from long ago. We meet her two dogs, her cockatiel, her enormous tortoises, brothers who have started fighting after 16 years of peace. We talk to her about her travels, about the 22 National Parks she's visit with her daughter, an acrobat and violinist that's spent time living in Norway and Germany and joined a circus in England for a while. We eat CSA vegetables and talk to her about photography, about her incredible book collection, about Sonoma County over beers and ice cream. <br />
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After saying our goodbyes, Kelsey and I explore Eugene on foot — thrifting forgotten kitchenware, thumbing through old postcards, tasting local beer and chatting with delightfully strange people. We acquire free stickers, free coasters, and a few stories, and head North to Portland. <br />
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<br />TressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-83586623547546220952014-06-09T15:00:00.002-07:002014-06-09T15:03:08.236-07:00Check out our space!Yesterday we took a second before take off to film a little video tour of our renovated van space. Things got a little weird but that's to be expected, right? Check it out here:<br />
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Our Trevolta campaign has officially ended, and we wanted to thank <b><a href="http://camlowcellars.com/" target="_blank">Camlow Cellars</a>, Aaron & Cheri Fessenden, Farra Ferrere, and Sandi Bowen</b> for our last donations! A few people have mentioned still wanting to donate although the Trevolta funding expired, so maybe we'll look into setting up a Paypal donation button and just keep track of the rewards ourselves, but that's a project for another day.<br />
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Writing to you all from Ashland, Oregon and considering checking out Crater Lake today and possibly staying there or heading up to Eugene before hitting Portland. <br />
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Smooches!<br />
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Tressa & KelseyTressaFMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05372375616964438935noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8467399992753384509.post-87631471185440959922014-06-08T19:02:00.001-07:002014-06-08T19:02:32.731-07:00Pieces of home. It's interesting being on the very cusp of this grand adventure, holding in our minds the questions of home through all our preparations, and being in some ways aware of the things that seem important to have in our mobile dwelling during the the duration of the journey. Do these things signal to us what the ingredients for a new home are for us? Not the obvious things — clothing, food, toiletries — but the little things we could have left but didn't. A small succulent plant, bright new handmade curtains, a few novels, a dream book, a ball of yarn and a pair of circular needles, face paint, a polar bear hat, scented candles...<br />
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In spite of our desire to be minimal and functional, to pare down to the bare necessities, we held onto these things, found places for them in our tiny living space. In some ways these comforts seem necessary. They are markers of identity, particulars that make us feel human and individual, and they will make our rusty '91 Chevy feel like home. <br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BrjpR3HJNho/U445JPS9q7I/AAAAAAAAAVE/Ee5BBj2kWyQ/s1600/IMG_2461.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BrjpR3HJNho/U445JPS9q7I/AAAAAAAAAVE/Ee5BBj2kWyQ/s1600/IMG_2461.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a>Yesterday we met up with Tressa's aunt Sis, who donated to our trip and chose the custom reward option in order to get some portraits of her cat, Lunita AKA Little One. Since we were going to spending some time hanging out with her and Lunita at her home, we thought we'd use the opportunity to talk to her about home to give us some practice asking questions and having the conversations we're setting out to have. We've been thinking about some questions to ask people, but we also don't want our conversations to feel like interviews, so that's going to take some work to get the hang of. Luckily Lunita is goofy and adorable and Sis was gracious about answering our awkwardly phrased questions candidly and openly.<br />
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We are forever grateful to Evan, who has been spending most of his life under our van looking over every last detail we definitely would have missed. We've made a ton of progress but still have to bleed the brake system, fix our cigarette lighter, change the oil, flush the radiator, try and find and install a door panel, finish building our bed frame, finish resurfacing our counter top, fix two of our cabinets, get our cooler, an extra gas jug, a water jug, make a sunroof cover and sew some cute curtains as a finishing touch. All that in four days!<br />
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Huge thank yous to <b>Anne & Craig Campbell, Wendy Shelton and Sishawna Fessenden</b> for donating! Thank you to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/abbeycarpetsf" target="_blank">Abbey Carpet of SF</a> for the carpet remnant, thank you to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Twin-Palms-Ranch/126301517418591" target="_blank">Twin Palms Ranch</a> for letting us park our van while we work on it and to Tressa's dad for lending us a billion tools, and thank you to our boys for all their help!<br />
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Four days until takeoff! <br />
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Kelsey & Tressa
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