Just Another Day on The Train

Two days ago, we said goodbye to Zanzibar, leaving behind the quiet white sand beaches of the East Coast and the chaotic labyrinth of Stone Town to head south to Zambia for safari. The plan was simple: 7am ferry from Zanzibar to Dar Es Salaam (capitol of Tanzania); short taxi to the train station; 2-day train to Kapriri Mposhi; 2-hour bus to Lusaka; quick cab to our lodge for the night; transport to the airport; 2.5-hour flight to Mfuwe and, finally, a 3 to 4 hour game drive to our final destination, Kaingo Camp in South Luangwa National Park. Okay, so maybe it's not all that simple, especially when you throw in 20 hour delays, new definitions for "buses" and completely unfamiliar cities. But, sitting here on the train for the third day now (we're currently 16 hours delayed), looking out the window at the changing Zambian landscape, we can't help but recognize that in Africa, the journey is always part of the destination.

The Tazara train line runs nearly 2,000km (1,200 miles) from Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania to Kapiri Mposhi, Zambia. It was built in the late 1960s by the Chinese and, from the looks of it, hasn't changed much since. Two different, but apparently equally worn, trains leave from Dar Es Salaam twice a week. The "Express" route leaves on Tuesdays and makes only a few stops on the way down to its final destination. The "Ordinary" route departs on Fridays, is a cheaper ticket, and stops in what seems like every village between Dar and Kapiri Mposhi. Being the fancy travelers we are - and because Tazara doesn't allow girls and boys to fraternize in sleeper cars unless they have purchased the entire cabin for themselves - Brendan and I booked four first class tickets on the Ordinary Train.

We got to the station in Dar Es Salaam early in anticipation of complications, but the station master had reserved our tickets as promised and with a quick payment of about 300,000 Tanzanian Shillings ($180, compared to flights priced over $600 a pop) we were ready to go. Unfortunately, the train was not. Over the next six hours, we made ourselves comfortable in the waiting area alongside roughly 500 to 600 Africans and 10 other "foreigners," including four Germans, two Brits, a Dane, a Czechoslovakian and two Chinese who actually work with Tazara (on what, we're not sure). Not surprisingly, we all found each other and made fast friends. We even made a cabin mate, Mona from Denmark, who was traveling on her own to Mpungulu, Zambia for an internship.

When the train finally pulled into the station, the crowds migrated outside to the platform. Porters pushed carts full of goods purchased in the city, women carried children on their backs and balanced luggage expertly their heads, boxes and suitcases were handed in through windows from one family member to another (so many of the passengers had unbelievable amounts of "stuff" with them). And, despite cabins being pre-assigned, there was a rush to board the train resulting in some temporary chaos and a few misunderstandings of who was supposed to be where. We ended up switching cabins with a group of Zambian women who had misread their tickets and already loaded about 30 bags and boxes into ours before we even found it. Once we got settled into our new cabin, picked beds and stowed our luggage, the train was leaving the station heading out into Africa.

The absolute best part about train travel in Africa is the scenery. Sitting at the window and watching the changing landscapes roll by is a wonderful way to see some of the less traveled, but very beautiful, parts of Tanzania and Zambia. The Tazara line passes through Selous Game Park, the biggest in Tanzania, heads up into the mountains in the south of the country and then down into the Zambian plains, filled with ancient baobab trees, tall grasses and fall-colored leaves. We've also passed through dozens of villages, which seemed to come out in mass to see the train through. When we stop, which is often, the local women walk the length of the train to sell fruit and baked goods through the windows while the men hawk everything from radios to shoes to jewelry and children play by the tracks and talk to passengers. One group of kids, including a sassy high-heeled boy of about 10, played a card game with us for some time and helped us practice our Swahili numbers while we waited. Unfortunately, many of the kids also ask for - or more accurately, demand - some sort of handout... Mzungu, give me money! Mzungu, give me something sweet to eat!

There are also a few elements of African train travel that we've had to get used to. For one, the train bounces. Up and down, not a side-to-side sway. There have actually been a few times when the bouncing has lifted one of us completely off our seats. We're not sure why it happens, but our guess is that it probably shouldn't. The noises on the Tazara line are another mystery. Each time we brake or accelerate, it sounds like a rocket blaster on the caboose backfired. On occasion, the sound is accompanied by a significant lurch forward or backward, that can send you across the cabin if you aren't  careful (Brendan has a bruise to prove it). Not surprisingly, very little information is given on the train - there are no maps provided, no announcements of stops and no explanations offered for hours-long delays. We're lucky to be getting off at the last stop, but if you have to depart sooner, like Mona, you have to piece together information, seek out friendly locals and keep your fingers crossed that you're getting off at the right station at 2am.

But, despite it's shortcomings and long delays, and assuming we actually make it to Kapiri Mposhi, the train has been a good experience. We've seen a lot of the continent we would have missed on a plane, met great people, eaten "drive thru" African fare, read... a lot, learned new card games from all over the world, and are still interested in the scenery 60 hours later. If we get to a day four, we might be singing a different tune, but for now, we're enjoying the journey.

UPDATE: We finally made it to Kapiri Mposhi after 67 hours (19 hours later than expected). From there, we took a mini-bus made for 9 but packed with 17 for two hours to get to Lusaka, where we were thankfully able to take long, hot showers and pass out in a clean, bounce-free and somewhat quiet room. We're looking forward to being spoiled on safari for the next week!

Island Retreat

Saying goodbye to Kenya and our CTC family was bittersweet. A big part of us wanted to stay in Maai Mahiu for another week or two, but the island culture, long history, rich flavors and white sand beaches of Zanzibar were calling (and who are we to ignore curries and paradise?).

We flew from Nairobi, over the small strip of Indian Ocean that separates the island from its quasi-parent-country, Tanzania, and onto Zanzibar. Our first stop was Stone Town, Zanzibar's historic center (and a World Heritage Site). Like most places on the small island, Stone Town is located right on the water, but it’s more known for its role in the spice and slave trades than its beaches.

After a great night's sleep and delicious breakfast at our guesthouse, Stone Town Cafe, we committed to being tourists for the day and powered through the handful of cultural attractions in and around Stone Town:

1. House of Wonders, a poorly curated museum showcasing the history of the island.
2. Palace Museum, once home to the Oman Sultanate, which ruled Zanzibar for several hundred years before the British took control in the shortest war in history (roughly 25 minutes).
3. Spice Tour to see, smell and taste the many flavors of Zanzibar (we also were officially crowned as the "King and Queen of the Spices" and adorned in palm frond regalia).
4. Underground cave next to the ocean where slaves were hidden before being sent abroad, after slavery was outlawed by the British.
5. Boat trip out to Prison Island (no prison is actually on the island, but there are giant turtles and peacocks, which was actually a huge (literally) highlight of the day).

We ended the night at Faradani Gardens, a nightly market of fresh seafood, Zanzibar pizza (an interesting egg/crepe/pizza combo) and sugar cane juice offered in bulk at bargain prices. We ate lobster, octopus, fish, prawns, coconut bread, dessert pizza and washed it all down with sugar cane, ginger and lime for about $15. We went to bed fat and happy.

The next day, we took a break from the tourist circuit and simply got lost in the old-world labyrinth of narrow streets in Stonetown. If you can ignore the calls from the shop promoters (Hello... My friend... Welcome... Good price) this is the absolute best way to get a feel for the city. We ended the day with what we thought was going to be a sundowner with a friend-of-a-friend who is a pilot in Stone Town. One pilot turned into three and the sundowner turned into an all-nighter. We woke up tired, hungover and ready for some R&R on the beach.

Matemwe is a small town on the eastern coast of Zanzibar, located about halfway in between the northern and southern tips of the island. It's known for its soft white sand and crowd-free beaches and it delivered on all fronts. We quickly agreed that it was one of the most beautiful beaches either of us had been to and that it was the perfect place to kick back and soak up some sun for a few days. Unfortunately, our pale skin wasn't quite up to the challenge of the strong sun (Zanzibar is only 6 degrees from the equator). We both got fried on day one and had to do everything from find shade to apply massive amounts of sun screen to snorkel in long-sleeve shirts to continue. We read, went on afternoon jogs, walked the beach during golden hour to get photos, ate fresh seafood and curries and generally felt pretty good about our performance as beach bums for the week. As the cherry on top of an already amazing experience, we met Tom, the owner of a new boutique hotel in Matemwe. After some good conversation, a delicious meal and a bottle of Cointreau, we couldn't pass up the temptation to spend our last night at Matemwe Bandas. Hotel is somewhat of a misnomer - Bandas has only three private bungalows with a pool, hammocks, a great kitchen and staff to cater for your every need (more appropriately, want). We got spoiled rotten for 24 hours and loved every minute of it. Brendan even shared some smoothie making secrets with the chef, so if you decide to visit, order a fruit shake!

We headed back to Stone Town for one more night at Stone Town Cafe and another meal at Faradani Gardens and got packed up for our next adventure... A two-day train ride from Tanzania to Zambia.

Lastly, a very happy birthday today to Jamie Starr. We love you, bro!

Deep Thoughts from the Beach

In less than an hour today, we walked into a medical clinic and got antibiotics, paying $15 on the spot (everything is fine), found a replacement micro-USB cord for my external hard drive, bought fresh bananas from a local market, paid less than $7 for three days of unlimited mobile 3G internet connection and booked ferry tickets for later in the week. All of this on an under-developed island off the coast of Tanzania where donkeys still roam the streets. 

Upon arriving to the beach, there was a chain of events, that together with the ones above, offered a ripe opportunity for reflection. We were sitting on our beach chairs reading while a hyperactive boy from London (his family originally from Tanzania) whizzed around us dancing and talking gibberish like he must have been one of the Lost Boys. A group of little street girls had already crowded around us a bit and instantly became fascinated with the London Tornado (real name, Ahmed). We watched as their interaction transpired like a medieval play-- first the girls extremely hesitant and confused by his erratic behavior, but then eventually moving closer and closer until they were all rolling around and dancing in the sand together. After mistakenly threatening the girls with throwing sand, they called Ahmed's bluff and gave him a taste of his own medicine, sending him running down the beach scared of the impending sand battle. 

Just 50 yards down the beach in the direction Ahmed was running, we saw a Japanese tourist teaching a group of local boys break dancing and Capoeira moves. At one point he had two or three of the athletic beach boys holding handstands while kicking their legs straight up in the air like donkeys. It was truly a sight to behold. 

Sitting on the beach and taking this all in got us thinking. Witnessing two such distinctive interactions was a reminder of how humans can relate and communicate on such fundamental levels, while having absolutely nothing in common. And in essence, that's what this trip is all about. Travel is about opening oneself up to experience and throwing away preconceptions. Striving for a true connection with the people, places, and things around you.  These were great examples of that. While our experience earlier in the day was a reminder of how quickly the world is becoming flat. Sure, we marvel at and appreciate the conveniences of accessible medicine, 3G mobile Internet, and electronics stores, but we’re simultaneously reminded that things everywhere are starting to look more and more the same. You find yourself in a bit of a conundrum, hoping that varied cultural experiences aren’t slowly becoming extinct, and at the same time wanting to believe that technology and modernization will lead to a better way of life for those in need.

Kenyan BBQ

Happy to report that our exuberance about ​Kenyan BBQ didn't go unnoticed by our Mountain biking partner, John. Here is the article he contributed for NPR's food blog, The Salt.

"So anytime there's nyama choma everyone's happy, I guess it's like barbecue [but] you don't barbecue for yourself, you call some friends, family over. It's not something you do on your own. It's considered to be a communal thing," he says.

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The "Dirt" on Africa

Looking back on our time and blog posts to date, we realize we're still in trip honeymoon phase and obviously enamored by CTC. But it hasn't been all puppies and rainbows - or more appropriately, sunshine and giraffes. So, here is the "dirt" on our trip so far. There will be plenty more to come as we get road-weary, homesick, stinky, etc. Thanks for the inspiration Steph!

One-Stop-Shop Bathroom
The toilet + shower + sink combo at the Transit Motel, Maai Mahiu's finest accommodation option, made for some interesting - and efficient - mornings in Kenya. In addition to being able to get a lot done at one time, it kept options close at hand. For example, if the hot water ran out or if the water shut off altogether - both of which happened often - you could turn the sink into a wash basin and make your own bucket shower. We later found out from a pediatric neurosurgeon that the in-unit heater on the shower head is known affectionately in medical circles as the "widow maker" due to the large number of shorts and electrocutions.  Insider tips for using the one-stop-shop bathroom: wear rubber flip flops and keep the toilet seat up when taking a shower.

While we're on the subject of bathrooms, it's worth mentioning that latrines / squat toilets (basically a hole in the ground) take some getting used to. Guys have it pretty easy on this one as long as you can hold your breath, but ladies, get ready for some trial and error. I've found the best practice to be bending forward at the waist versus squatting. It keeps you farther away from the hole and helps with aim. Just sayin.

Dust Storm
During the dry season, at least in Maai Mahiu, dust is everywhere. You will get dirty - no exceptions. Avoid wearing white - I am now the proud owner of a brownish button up shirt after making that mistake. And, bring a bandana to use as a mask when things get really bad. Plus, you can tie it around your neck for protection against the sun, use it to wipe off sweat and dust, wet it to cool you off or tie back / hide dirty hair. Neither Brendan or I brought one and we are both in hot pursuit.

African Massage
Not surprisingly, the roads in Africa have been pretty terrible. They are completely unmaintained, meaning you're in for a rough ride no matter where you're heading. The crew at CTC calls the turbulence an "African massage." Traffic is also a huge problem. Our 45 minute trip into the airport last week turned into a 2.5 hour ride due to traffic jams in Nairobi. And that's on a good day. We also were 2 hours late meeting John for our bike ride our first weekend in Maai Mahiu because our taxi was an hour late and then couldn't travel any faster than 45 kilometers (about 30 miles) per hour. Public transport (Mutatus are the equivalent to local buses in Kenya) also run on their own time. They wait until they are full - we waited about 45 minutes for 22 people to pile in to a 10-seater Mutatu in Maai Mahiu. No suggestions here except to come in with realistic expectations. You will get jostled. It will take you significantly longer to get places. You might be shoved in between smelly people with a random child or goat on your lap. Get used to it. And, be prepared to call an audible. On our way back to Maai Mahiu after a hike with no Mutatu in sight, we hitched a ride with a truck driver heading through on his way from DRC to Mombassa. Not something we'd do everyday - or suggest to anyone not in a group - but it got us home and made for a good story.

White Trash
Never in a million years would Brendan or I have imagined collecting trash in Africa. But, in an effort to better understand Maai Mahiu's challenges and CTC's services, we joined their waste management team for a Friday pick up. Wow. CTC started the first official waste management services in Maai Mahiu about one year ago. They encourage the community to participate by paying a small fee for the services and employ local youth to do the pick ups once a week. Surprisingly, it's been an uphill battle. People in Maai Mahiu are used to living with the mess - its all they've ever known - and are slow to come around to paying for services they aren't convinced they need. But, CTC is working to educate the community on the benefits of waste management. To date, over 70 households have signed up.

So, clad in jumpers, rubber boots, gloves and masks, we shoveled our way through one of the many trash piles found around the city and then collected bagged trash from about 30 households. We're so glad we did it - Brendan and I both felt really good about the day and apparently having Mzungus (white people) out picking up trash caused quite the stir and generated some buzz around the program. I can honestly say it was the DIRTIEST work we've ever done. Hats off to the CTC youth for doing it - it's so needed, but so smelly!

Carrying On
I'm sure most of you know this, but Brendan and I decided not to check bags during our 7 month trip. So, everything we own for the next half-year fits into a carry on bag. There is a huge upside to this strategy - we save money on checked bag fees, avoid lost luggage, have less to schlep around, etc. But, it also introduces a few new obstacles. For example, if you only have three outfits, you have to wash clothes. A lot. And, depending on where you are an how much money you have to spend, that means hand washing in buckets, sinks, showers, hoses or whatever you can get your hands on. We lucked out in Maai Mahiu because the hotel let us borrow a bucket and a fellow volunteer donated some clothesline and pins (thanks, Elaine!). Hand washing is great and not too difficult, but in Africa, where everything gets extra dirty (as referenced above), it's easy to be skeptical over how clean things actually get. Now that we're in Zanzibar, we'll be sending everything out for a good, professional scrubbing. If you're traveling light or long-term, pack some clothesline, pins and a good travel detergent.

The other, and obviously girly, issue with carrying on is that you have limited options on what do wear for varied occasions. We'll both do more in-depth packing lists with our thoughts on what we brought, but no matter how great you pack, a carry on requires a certain amount of sacrifice. And even three weeks in, I'm missing my closet. I'd say my current advice would be to take a few things you love enough to wear everyday... Because you will be wearing them everyday. Oh, and make sure you keep up with it all. I'm already a jacket, hat and earring down (shocking, I know). Brendan is, as always, the ultimate boy scout with everything still in tact, in good shape and at the ready. Damn him.

That's the "dirt" on three weeks in Africa. We've appreciated the highs and lows and wouldn't change a thing. We're in Zanzibar now, which is beautiful with a really great energy, so there will be more posts soon! We'll try to keep it real and start including more travel recs now that we're officially on the road!

Mountain Biking & Maasai Grandmothers

Our first Saturday in Maai Mahiu, we received an unexpected invitation to go mountain biking with NPR's East Africa Correspondent, John Burnett, in Hell's Gate National Park. We had never met John, knew nothing about Hell's Gate and couldn't find the park on the map. So, of course we accepted. According to John, mountain biking is a relatively new sport in Kenya, but it's growing in popularity. The gear hasn't quite caught up to the trend, so the bikes we rented weren't exactly what we were used to riding in Crested Butte, but we were about to bike through an African National Park, so who the hell cared?!

The ride did not disappoint. Hell's Gate National Park sits on top of a geothermal hotspot created by a nearby volcano, Mount Longonot, and is full of interesting landmarks. Perhaps the most notable are two volcanic plugs, Fischer's Tower and Central Tower, that seem to grow from the earth out of nowhere. The tribe who first inhabited the land believed that the two towers were the petrified daughters of the village chief, who bucked tradition by looking back toward home on their way out to marry. History lesson aside, the landscape is straight out of Jurassic Park. Huge groves of old-growth trees, dramatic cliff faces, expansive meadows. And... Wildlife! Not dinosaurs, but almost as unexpected and exciting. We saw zebras, warthogs, cape buffalo, springbok, and a giraffe! From our bikes! It was such a surreal experience, made even better by the beautiful golden-hour light and tailwind on our ride home.

The other attraction at the park is Hell's Gate itself. Hell's Gate is a gorge named by the Maasai to describe the entry point to the center of the earth. Now, Maasai guides take Mzungus (visitors) into the gorge for tours. Our guide, also named John, showed us around and shared stories of Maasai tradition and change. Up until 10 years ago or so, the Maasai men would be sent out into the bush at 21 to learn the land, survival and courage. The final test of courage was to kill a lion, armed with only his spear and his wits. John was one of the last in his village to participate in the tradition, something for which he carries a scar to prove. It was interesting talking to him about change and progress. He has two sons, who will put education before more traditional Maasai rights of passage. His mindset is similar to many in Africa... Roll with the times.

We ended the day with sundowners on the lake and one more animal sighting... hippos! 

Two days later, Brendan and I loaded up into the CTC van with the Health team to visit a group of Maasai grandmothers enrolled in the GAPA program (Grandmothers Against Poverty and HIV/AIDS). The meeting site was about an hour's drive off the main road at a Maasai community house that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Twenty four cu cus (grandmothers, pronounced sho sho) and over 100 of their kids had walked - some for several hours - to attend the meeting.

The day was emotional and wonderful. These women are some of the strongest, most beautiful women we've ever met. They've been left to care for young children after losing their own, with miles between them and any potential support systems, and still they smile and sing. Some of the cu cus are over 100 years old (one actually said she was 125, but we're guessing that may be a bit of a stretch), and are raising four or five kids under the age of six. It is truly amazing.

The purpose of the visit was to meet with the cu cus, learn more about their needs and deliver supplies for bracelet making, which will soon help generate income for the group. Just as we've seen in other groups, most of the women live in extreme poverty and having a way to support their families is the first step. If they can earn a living (which the bracelets will enable), they can focus on taking care of the kids and their own health and happiness. As we were leaving, one of the cu cus motioned us to join her at the front of the room. They offered us gifts of beautiful beadwork jewelry and a glass of fermented milk to thank us for coming. While we were trying to finish our drinks - it was like a warm milkshake with the occasional chunk - we looked around and were overwhelmed by the generosity of these cu cus who have so much on their plate and so little to give.

Even though we’re only a week into the trip with so much ahead, we have no doubt that our time with the cu cus will be an experience we’ll never forget.

Coming to Africa

We have to caveat this blog entry by admitting how hard it was write. We have done, seen and felt so much over the past week that articulating everything has proven challenging. So, we're going to start at the beginning and describe our general expectations and initial experiences in Africa, Maai Mahiu and CTC and go from there. Long story short, all three have blown us away.

Brendan and I landed in Nairobi, Kenya six days ago, after 24 hours of traveling through three continents and ten times zones on four different planes. One taxi, one van and one day later, we were getting settled in at the Transit Hotel in Maai Mahiu, our home for the next two weeks and CTC's Kenyan headquarters.

Maai Mahiu is a town of about 64,000 people located (depending on traffic or "jams") about 45 minutes northwest of Nairobi, in the Rift Valley. It's a highway town, situated on a major thoroughfare for both safari operators taking tourists out to the Maasai Mara and truck drivers shuttling goods from the Capitol to the rest of East Africa. It's rough around the edges to say the least and driving in was admittedly a bit intimidating. However, it didn't take us long to look beyond the problems and see the potential, thanks in large part to CTC.

The CTC building is the literal bright spot of the town. It's blue exterior, green grass and treed fence line are a stark comparison to the dust, litter and cinder block that make up the majority of Maai Mahiu. Apparently, as recent as twenty years ago, the town was rich with vegetation, trees and wildlife, but over the past two decades, the influx of people to the area and the lack of environmental education and care has stripped the land.

Just inside the entry way, there is a small courtyard with eight doors, each housing a different CTC program. We cannot say enough about the efforts of the people in those eight rooms. Our first day in Maai Mahiu, we had the privilege of spending time with each department to get a glimpse of the many initiatives that make up the whole of CTC. The list is not short... Special needs care and support for parents of special needs children (great article here)... HIV and AIDS education, prevention, screening and counseling... Adult literacy courses... Waste management... Environmental education and enrichment... Youth soccer (football) and dance clubs... Health clinics... Support for grandmothers left in charge of kids orphaned by HIV and AIDS... To name a few. Please check out CTC's website for more details - they say it better than we do.

The most admirable - and perhaps logical - thing of all is that each of the programs are striving for sustainability. Boiled down, that means each CTC initiative will eventually be able to run without financial support from CTC and their donors. Even now, nothing is a handout. It's about providing knowledge, skills and opportunity and empowering people to better their own situations. CTC taught the Malaika Mums (mothers of special needs children) to sew bags and coin purses that can be sold through international partners to generate income for the Mums and help fund Malaika Kids (special needs care at CTC). The Maasai grandmothers in the GAPA (Grandmothers Against Poverty HIV & AIDs) program learned to make liquid soap, goat cheese and beadwork bracelets to support their families. And the Waste Management program educates the community about proper trash disposal and then employs youth to do the pick up. Each program currently has, or is looking for, the right income generating partner project to close the loop. We could learn a thing or two from this model.

Over the past week, CTC has not just talked about their programs, they have encouraged us to participate. We learned Swahili numbers and tried to recall percents and cross multiplication at the Adult Literacy class. We quality controlled bags for the Malaika Mums who are working hard to fulfill a big order for Whole Foods (look for them this Fall!). We met with Maasai grandmothers to bring supplies for bracelets and hear more about their needs. And, in the process, we've been welcomed into the CTC family wholeheartedly.

In just one short week, these people have made such an impact on our lives. Coming into this experience, we could not have imagined how connected we would feel so far away from our friends and family and now we can't imagine having started the trip any other way. We are so thankful to everyone here at CTC... For making us feel at home in Maai Mahiu, for introducing us to the warm people of the Rift Valley, and most of all for allowing us to be a part of this incredible organization.

We're looking forward to week two.

To learn more about our efforts at CTC and to donate toward our fundraising goal, please click here.

Heads Up: We're trying to catch up, so the next post will be up soon! Highlights to include a mountain bike safari with giraffes and an NPR correspondent and more on our special day with the Maasai grandmothers.

Family Reunions

This morning, Brendan and I watched a young Golden Eagle attempt to work up the courage to fly the nest. He sat on the branches outside the home he was born in, stretched his wings wide and looked bravely into the great beyond (and the ground about 200 feet below him).  Six hours later, he's still perched on that branch, still thinking that today might be the day but not quite knowing if he's ready to leave the comforts of home. After getting over the shock of being within viewing distance of a baby eagle, I realized that his situation is not dissimilar to ours. We leave for Kenya in six days, and while we could not be more excited to start our adventure, we understand that we are also leaving behind the comforts of home, first and foremost, the people we love. So, it is fitting that the last few weeks have been filled with family - the McCorquodales came to Crested Butte for the first time, we attended a Starr family reunion and we are currently on Cebolla Creek (watching eaglets) with Brendan's stepfather Keith and his wonderful partner in crime, Judy.

Having my parents in Crested Butte was so special. They dove right in, jumping on townies (bikes, not people) before we could even walk the three blocks from Brendan's house to the B&B to show them around. The trip was short, but very sweet. We biked around town, hiked out Upper Loop for some scenic views, enjoyed sundowners with a mountain backdrop and spent great time with Brendan's family. We also were lucky to spend time at the Rocky Mountain Biological Laboratory in Gothic and be shown around by our friend and RMBL scientist Ann Marie. The work that the researchers are accomplishing is incredible. For example, Ann Marie is working in the longest running climate change experiment in the world, collectively gathering data for over 20 years now. Needless to say, Jan and Kenny Mac are big fans of CB and Jim and Annie. Brendan and I are so lucky to have such easy, fun parents that actually enjoy each other's company.

The day my parents left town, we went on one of the most epic hikes of the trip. We were with our Crested Butte family, Jim and Annie, and some friends who had three generations (grandpa, his son and his son's wife and their one-year old daughter... who, by the way was the toughest person in the group by far) and three Alaskan sled dogs in tow. We hiked out of Scofield Pass to Haisley Basin, which is so beautiful that there are actually a large number of babies named Haisley in Colorado. The basin is a brilliant shade of green with Alpine lakes and scattered groves of aspen and pine, surrounded by stark white peaks. Brendan got some amazing shots, and Annie summed it up perfectly when she observed to herself, "If I were an elk, I'd live here."

One of the many perks of the Haisley Basin hike is the proximity to the Maroon Bells, Colorado's most photographed mountains. So, armed with Brendan's Sony NEX 7, we traversed over to Frigidaire Pass for a dead-on view of the famous peaks. The Maroon Bells lived up to their reputation. Their dark rust color and jagged peaks provide a stark contrast to the smooth white and gray slopes surrounding it. It is, at the risk of sounding redundant, one of the most dramatic views of the trip (top photo). Even a hail storm on the 6 mile trek back to the car couldn't put a blemish on a beautiful day. The baby slept right through it.

The next week, we channeled our inner Griswolds, loaded up the station wagon and headed to Estes Park, Colorado for the bi-annual Starr family reunion. We split the trip into two parts, stopping in Glenwood Springs for a dip in the same healing hot springs that brought Doc Holliday to the area in the late 1880s. We also, thanks to the Digital Chief (Brendan) and modern technology (a.k.a., YELP), discovered Pullman's Restaurant and had a fantastic dinner before heading on to the Comfort Inn in Eagle for the night. I should mention that the lock on the back hatch of the station wagon (actually Subaru Outback, but if you want to picture a Woody, please do) was broken, so every stop became an exercise in creative parking. Walls, hedges and fences guarded our belongings (which for Brendan and I is pretty much everything we have for the next 8 months) while we swam, scarfed and slept. Clark would have been proud.

We arrived in Estes Park, home to Rocky Mountain National Park, the Stanley Hotel (The Shining), and what must be the country's largest concentration of ice cream and taffy shops, the next afternoon for the Starr family reunion. This was the 20th reunion for the family and, at just over 50 people present, was somewhat small compared to past reunions. The largest, held in South Dakota about a decade earlier, counted more than 120. As a member of a small family, I was truly impressed with the strong relationships in such a large and diverse group of people. We played hearts, had Moscow Mules by the campfire, golfed, hiked, and just enjoyed each other's company. It was a special weekend, topped off by a memorable and much-anticipated performance of the Starr family song.

Flash forward a day, a camping trip, an 8-hour bushwhacking wilderness adventure, and an inaugural visit to Brendan's namesake landmark (Benny's Bowl), and here we are, on Cebolla Creek at the last of our family reunions. Cebolla Creek is a private stretch of stream off of Blue Mesa where Brendan grew up camping and fishing with his mom and stepdad, Keith. Now, the tents have been replaced by an amazing cabin (which Keith built with his bare hands), but the fishing and company is still top notch. I got to add two more fly fishing trips to my roster (now at three, total) and Brendan came away as the angler of the weekend with about six or seven 10" plus Brown and Rainbow trouts! We ate what we caught on the first day and released the fish to see another catch on the second. Cebolla Creek is also where we are writing this entry and watching the Golden Eagles from the living room window.

We came home to a beautiful home-cooked meal (thanks Annie!) and spent our last night in CB doing exactly what we did on the first... Sitting around the dining room table, enjoying great food, delicious wine and wonderful conversation with the family. What a perfect way to end our time in our Colorado home and three weeks of family reunions.

UPDATE: The baby eagle officially left the nest the morning after we wrote this post. Bon voyage!

The Great "Outdoors"

We've never so fully appreciated the term "outdoor activities" than in Crested Butte, Colorado. Our theory is that it's because it means something a bit different here than most places. In CB, "outdoor activities" does not just mean doing something outside, but literally having access to a variety of amazing activities right outside of your door. By walking down the block you can hike, bike, fish, boat, horseback ride, dirt bike, four-wheel or camp. All in some of the most beautiful country around.

This past week offered us several new ways to experience the great "outdoors" and our home for the month, which we accepted enthusiastically.

The first was a first for me and a favorite pastime of Brendan's. We received an invitation to go fly fishing with the Budds, an amazing family who has been instrumental in conservation and preservation efforts in Crested Butte for years. Ambush Ranch, which is one of the properties they own and protect, is one of the prettiest stretches of river property in the area - and they were nice enough to share it with us and a few friends for the evening. We arrived at the ranch, got fitted for our waders and boots - this is not a fashion-friendly sport - and were split into experience levels for a quick refresher (Brendan) / crash course (Brittni) in fly fishing.

There is an art, etiquette and language for fly fishing that is not easily mastered. But, a great guide and stocked river go a long way. Brendan came away with four fish and some amazing shots of the river. Farther down the river, thanks to some beginner's luck, I had the biggest single catch of the day - a 17" rainbow trout! Not surprisingly, I did not have a phone, camera or electric device of any kind on me, so the catch went unrecorded. But, I promise, "it was THIS big."

Our next "outdoor activities" happened separately. Brendan headed to Blue Mesa for some water sports (a.k.a. beers on a boat with the boys) and I took in Crested Butte on horseback. Blue Mesa is a 20 mile long reservoir, the largest body of water in Colorado. When we drove to Telluride, it kept us company for about thirty minutes along the way. After a few runs on the slalom ski, the afternoon weather came in and forced the guys to the marina for a burger (and perhaps another beer or two).

Later that day, after sitting in the truck to wait out the same weather, I headed out with some new friends, Jodie and Joanna, for an afternoon horseback ride. Jodie's family has been here for generations and has amazing properties all around the Crested Butte area. So, we were lucky enough to ride on private land, meaning we were the only ones around to enjoy some of the prettiest views in CB. Riding has been one of the highlights of the trip so far for me - I'm a not-so-secret horse geek and rode a bit growing up - and this ride was one for the books.

We're hoping to use the next few days to get organized for the trip. Thankfully the weather is cooperating, it's been pouring all morning. We leave for Africa in TWO WEEKS and still have a lot to look forward to in Colorado. My family is coming in later this week, we head to Estes Park for the bi-annual Starr Family Reunion the last weekend in July, and then we go to Denver for a send-off weekend with some of our best friends from Texas before flying out of DIA on August 6th. We still can't believe this is all happening, but we're loving every minute of it!

Is this Real Life?

On Sunday, we had plans to meet Jacque, Ryan, Oliver and Murphy in Telluride, another amazing ski town about 3.5 hours southwest of Crested Butte. And, to top it off, we had permission from Jim to take his 1986 red, convertible Alpha Romeo along for the ride. Now, there are some very sexy attributes to an Italian sports car with some "history" (there are also some less sexy attributes, which we'll get into later). But, on the way there, it was incredible. Beautiful weather, cool air, the sun on our shoulders, winding mountain roads and amazing scenery. We cruised into Telluride on a high from the drive. We were in love with the Alpha. And Telluride didn't look so bad either. The town and ski area are nestled in between steep, jagged mountains with Bridal Veil Falls, a 365' waterfall, at the center. Coloradans actually refer to Telluride as the Alps of the West as they more closely resemble the European mountain range than their American counterparts. European or American, they are stunning.

One of the great things about Telluride is the gondola system. Three separate gondolas take you from the mountain to town and even to the market. Imagine going to the grocery store via gondola! Pretty unreal. It also makes for safe travel, as we found out after a fun night on the town on our first night.

Monday morning was beautiful and beckoned us outside for the day with a hike up to Silver Lake. By far the most difficult hike so far on the trip, the Silver Lake trail is more like a game trail than a man-made hiking trail. It is decently steep and took us through several creek crossings, an Aspen forest and up about 2,500 feet of vert (vertical, for those new to Colorado terminology like me). In the end, like most things, it was well worth the work. Silver Lake is unbelievable. The water is crystal clear, with 20" trout swimming just below the surface and multiple waterfalls feeding the pool. And, with the exception of a few fishermen, we had it all to ourselves. Brendan decided to make his dad proud and stripped down to his skivvies to take a cold plunge while the rest of us cowards watched from the warm rocks on the bank. With some rain clouds looming, we packed up our stuff and headed down the trail. A few slips, loose rock and branches grabbed later, we were back where we started, amazed by how much easier it is to come down than go up and completely satisfied by the adventure. We headed back to the condo to freshen up, had a quick cocktail (Ryan and Jacque make the best Moscow Mules - vodka, ginger beer and fresh lime), and headed to dinner.

As many of you know, we LOVE food and appreciate great food experiences. So, I feel like we have to tell you a bit about our dinner. "There" is an Asian-influenced tapas bar in a small house in Telluride. The comic-book themed menu features everything from elk steam buns to king crab ramen to curried beef lettuce wraps. It's mountain meets Asian and it is delicious. To top it off, the owners / creative partners have created a "blacklist" cocktail menu that is full of unique concoctions that, despite odd pairings, had us all impressed (and maybe a bit tipsy). If you ever find yourself in Telluride, check it out. And, Texans will be lucky soon. "There" is opening a sister restaurant in Lowest Greenville in Dallas within the next six months. Yum.

Tuesday morning marked our departure and we were excited to get back into the Alpha for another romantic road trip. Unfortunately, the weather and the Alpha had other plans. The day we left, the temperature was a good 10 degrees warmer, with no cloud cover. Meaning, the warm sun that had kissed our shoulders on the way in was burning down on us. We stopped about half way home to grab a bite, cool off - I should mention the the Alpha has no A/C - and put the top up. Apparently, we were not the only ones hot and bothered. The Alpha refused to start.  We realize that this is an entirely ridiculous and first-world problem, but being stuck in Montrose, CO was not what we had in mind to end the trip. Luckily, we made it home (with only one more breakdown along the way). Bottom line, if that's the worst of our problems, life is good. Very good.

Hello, Colorado!

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind. Friends and family in Texas treated us to the longest and most celebrated goodbye in history - parties, dinners, family lock-ins, surprise visits from old friends and more hugs than we could handle. Between epic meals and hangovers, we packed our lives into a 10'x16' mobile storage unit, dropped cars off in family driveways and headed to Denver on July 2, 2012. After a quick shuttle ride and about nine flights of stairs, we treated ourselves to a delicious Greek dinner with Brendan's brother Jamie and his lovely girlfriend Lili. Twelve hours later, we were in Boulder, hitching a ride to Crested Butte with our friends Ryan and Jacque, their two dogs, Oliver and Murphy, and a car full of luggage containing everything from dog beds to malaria medication.

The 4-hour drive delivered on everything a Colorado road trip promises - beautiful scenery, quaint towns, winding mountain passes and a noticeable shortage of bathrooms. TIP - take advantage of rest stops and gas stations while you can when driving though the mountains in CO! We arrived accident free at the first official stop on our tour, Crested Butte, Colorado, in time to grab a quick shower and a meal with the family (Jim and Annie) before heading to Brendan's Eleven Year High School Reunion. The event was hosted by the class below him who was throwing their more traditional Ten-Year Reunion, but, in true Crested Butte form, everyone was invited. We caught up with friends, survived a near bat attack, turned down roadkill BBQ and moved on to the town's local bar, The Talk of the Town, to officially kick off the trip.

We continued the celebration the next morning at the annual Fourth of July parade. Watching a small-town parade in arguably one of the most beautiful places in America is definitely an experience worth having. It can turn even the biggest cynic into a hot-dog eating, flag-waving American. Speaking of hot dogs and flag waving, the post-parade-picnic at the Starr residence included a town hall meeting of sorts with Senator Michael Bennet. Definitely a first for us, but we were very impressed by the Senator's accessibility and candidness. And, the hot dogs were a hit. The night ended without fireworks (burn bans prohibited them in CB), but all-in-all, it was a great day. Happy birthday America.

We attempted to use the next few days to shift focus from celebrating (a.k.a. drinking and staying out late) to the best of what CB has to offer - outdoor activities. On day one of the "new us," we hiked for about 7 miles (24,400 steps, thanks to Brendan's Nike Fuel Band) across Woodwalk, Budd Trail and Lower Loop. Then, we rewarded ourselves with drinks, dinner and a return trip to The Talk. Day (and try) 2, we met up with friends, Eric and Melissa, and hiked up Scarp's Ridge, about 20 minutes outside of Crested Butte. While much shorter than our previous hike (only 10,300 steps), the Scarp's Ridge hike puts flat landers to shame with it's steep inclines. The payoff in the end is well worth it though - with 360 degree views of some of Colorado's most beautiful and famous mountains. If the closing scene from The Sound of Music included four members of the Von Trapp family doubled over trying to catch their breath, it would be our hike. Apparently it takes two weeks to fully acclimate to the altitude, so we'll have to try again later to test the theory. And, in the meantime, we'll keep hiking, biking and gettin' fit.