Yard sale, Hollywood, and tattoos, a tasty combo

Last weekend we decided to unload our extra bus gear before we find a buyer for the beloved member of the trip, Samson the school bus. So we had a yard sale at Ryan Brown's house near LA on Sunday and sent Clint off with the bus back to Riverside.
From there, we headed north to hang with Eric Mackintosh and make plans with him to climb Mt Whitney.

In the meantime, Eric showed us the night life in Hollywood.
On a side note, Jon has been thinking about getting a tattoo of the Outer Banks, the chain of islands of the coast of NC. These are his stomping grounds where he was born and bred.
This thought became a reality when he walked into a tattoo parlor in Hollywood on Monday night. Later on in the night, we met up with Eric's friends at a place where Darrell from the office was partying a little too hard on his birthday.

Another one bites the Dust

This trip started with 8 of us getting a bus and living on it. But life happens and plans change. After losing many others along the way, Clint informed us two days ago that the trip had ended for him as well. So now it is just the two originals. Kelly and Me. We are sad to see Clint go, but this frees us up to be able to have Clint handle the selling of the bus and Kelly and I bought two one way tickets to Honduras. We fly out of LAX on Nov 2nd.

We transition from life on a bus, which though posh and luxurious, can be quite cumbersome and and laborious, to life with just two of us and back packs. We are able to appreciate both extremes. Now time to live light, and be able to move quick.

Communes and Characters

After coming back from Mexico, we were excited to be able to attend a dinner that some people at the Yellow Deli had invited us to attend. We drove for quite some time deep into the back roads of the Mountains. After many twists and turns we came upon the "Ranch" of the Twelve Tribes. Close to 100 hippy Christians opened up there home and way of life to us for an evening. 25% was out of shear love and hospitality, 75% was out of an effort to convert us to there commune (thought to be a cult by many scholars). After some light conversion efforts, we broke into circle dancing, and sang folk songs and danced with the 1850's looking group. Some one announced thanks that we had come to visit and a a standing ovation lasted far beyond the point of being awkward. They finally stopped after several minutes when Ricky raised his hand like the Pope to silence them. We dined under candle light and thanked the fish for giving their lives, and then ran out of there as one overly enthusiastic convert tried to take Sharaya as his wife.

The majority of our days are filled with surfing, talking about surfing and then sitting on the bus. We enjoyed some famous breaks such a Pt Loma for a few days were we got many days of head high, slow rolling, fun to ride waves, and Black's Beach. At Black's we met some very interesting characters. One guy had worked for the CIA since he was 13, had been gassed by Osama, and has at least $89 Billion in the World Trade Center. Certified Wacko. His told us many Sci-Fi plots he believed to the core were his life.

It seems that it is obvious to everyone else that if we live in a bus, surely we smoke weed and may also sell as well. If you know us at all, you know this isn't true, but everyday we have people either ask us for weed or offer it. Maybe if Kelly would cut off his dreads that might help our image. But for now we are trapped as hippy, dread lock surfers and forever the cops will be suspicious and the locals jealous.

One night we decided we needed something else besides Ramen for dinner and headed to Panera to take our turn begging. Through a fortunate series of events and many conversations with Panera, we left Panera that night with ALL of the baked goods they had. We have more than 4 trash bags full of bagels, pastries, and loafs of phenom bread. Bread is our greatest currency.

Yesterday we surfed Upper Tressels. Surfing through the rain ran off many surfers. Thecrowd especially thinned out during the lightning and thunder. Today we awake to more rain and less waves.

Kids with Guns

We hit our first Cali waves today. Point Loma. Point Loma university sits right on a great break. We drove through security in our big yellow bus and of course attracted attention. We parked the bus up on the cliff as we climbed down and paddled out. From far off in the water we saw a security truck checking out our bus. After hearing some horror stories of huge fines and towings, Kelly and Clint made the mad dash and paddled back in to move the bus to a spot they wouldn't tow us from.

We are perpetually plagued with people being suspicious of our bus. Yesterday evening in downtown San Diego, two cops asked to board our bus and search for a missing person. Really? Of all San Diego, why our bus? Then 5 minutes ago as we parked the bus on the street in front of our friends in public parking, this lady freaked out on us. She told us we couldn't park there. She had no real reason. We told her she was just giving us a hard time because we were kids. She then went off "Yeah, well kids can get guns, and then they kill people!" She made a machine gun motion. We told her thanks for welcoming us into the neighborhood and we left the bus on the street.

People either love the bus, or they are scared of it!

San Miguel Surf

We headed back to San Miguel today. After battling some waves for a while, I decided to head in, grab my waterproof camera and body board so I could try to get some shots. At the truck, the most pitiful puppy I've ever seen came up to me. I'm not sure what he wanted though, cause he definitely wasn't interested in the trail mix I tried to give him. After he refused my offer, he crawled into a bush, and I'm pretty sure he died there.

Anyway, after shooting the guys for a bit, as well as, a couple locals, we headed in and back to the aunt Pat's pad for the rest of the night. After promising the local we were riding with that I would throw up a pic of him on our blog, I realized that it may be a bit until I find a cardreader for my camera. (I left my USB camera cord back in CO[sorry local dude, check back on Friday, and I may have the photos up.])
-Kelly

Mecca. Finally Waves

We seemed to have progressed from ramen in the wal-mart parking lot. Tonight we dined to a delicious home cooked meal in an incredibly designed 8,000+ square foot home, over looking the crashing waves of Baja Mexico.

After AZ, we headed to Southern California and enjoyed the company of Sharaya and Tiffany and Ricky. Sharaya took us to a great show (her brothers band: Get Back Loretta), and on Sunday took us to the Yellow Deli. The Yellow Deli is a Restaurant owned by Hippie Christians who live on a compound and grow all things natural. They had built the entire restaurant by hand. After talking to one of them for quite some time, they tore up our bill, and invited us to dinner at their house next Friday. They said it will be great food under the stars and will be sure to include good conversation and circle dancing around the fire. Clint is especially excited about the dancing.

The first few days in California proved to be flat, so decided to take our chances and try to cross the border again. We crossed our fingers and once again headed South. We got to the border and the young female agent boarded our bus. After looking around for a bit, she told us we needed a permit to drive the bus into Mexico. Clint and I smiled and made some jokes with Nadia, and then told her we don't need a permit. We said we had recently passed into Nuevo Laredo with no permit and didn't need one there. Shje smiled and waved us on and we passed into Baja! Driving along the coast, our eyes were glued to the ocean looking for a good break. We found a gated community, and after talking to hostess and the guard, they agree to let us surf there, even though it was normally forbidden. We had waves, and all to ourselves! After waiting for so long, it was quite exciting to paddle out into overhead waves. We got pummeled for a while but got some fun rides.

We cruised further south and came to Aunt Pat's house. Right on the beach, her husband had spent great time developing the most amazing house ever. Clint's friend is actually the nephew of Pat, but Clint is adopted in. She welcomed us into her house with open arms and us blessed us so much. She gave us her husband's truck (who passed several years before) and we went out scouting more breaks. After hunting for quite some time, we came across a great point break. Super clean over head waves peeled of consistently. This session alone was worth the drive. The water was covered in sea weed and once, while coming off a turn on a head high wave, I hit a patch of seaweed so thick, the board literally stopped dead and I flew forward!

We will stay here a few more days and probably head back up this weekend. Only time will tell.

Into California

Another shot of the boat and lake. Here is a video of Clint dismounting into the beautiful lake. We stopped by Clint's house today and are leaving in a few minutes to head to San Diego and surf. The plan is to visit a bunch of friends and surf up and down Cali. Live in the bus for now, and when we sell, probably fly to Central America. No time constraints.

Wake Boarding

Day Two of the "New Plan" was epic. We met up with Nate Lanzon, one of Kelly and Clint's buddies from Colorado, in Arizona to hit up wake boarding. Nate took us to an absolutely beautiful lake in the nicest wake boarding boat in existence. Nate and his buddies can rip so well, and gave us some good tips on the art of wake boarding.
We have all now fallen in love with wake boarding and enjoyed shredding a different type of wave all day.

We will through up a few more shots tomorrow.

Adventures as we head west

There are now no more days of waiting for something that will never be done. The pressure has melted away. Frustration has now been converted to that exciting feeling of adventure of the unknown.


We will mist our dear family we traveled with. We grew close to the kids and Crystal, but now it is time to charge. We were able to start full throttle as Cyrstals cousin races trophy trucks.

We unloaded all her gear and raced along the border of Mexico yesterday across dirt roads and through cotton fields in this suped up truck. We zoomed by a few border patrol trucks and felt the dirt between our teeth as we smiled stoked to be back in the mix of where we want to be. An exciting first day was confirmation of the right choice.

The Adventure begins when you enter the unknown

There is a line that runs parallel to the Mexican border. This is the
line between persistence and stubbornness partnered with idiocy. As we
continued to meet defeat in attempting to properly get South of border
we began to see that line materialize.

Before we left we had been warned countless times of the many perils
in Mexico currently. Living adjacent to the border we were able to
confirm the realities of the threats we faced. The last US agent we
talked to as we made our previous attempt to cross asked us with all
seriousness what could ever possibly provoke or make us go to Mexico.
He told us just down the river floated 3 bodies, one being headless,
and about a recent American jet skier who was shot and left in the
water. We have heard stories like this far too much.

We regrouped last night and tried to make a plan about how to get our
stuff across. This was going to be entirely too complex and might be a
few more days before we could start. We had already spent an extra
$1,300 trying to import the bus, but we were all starting to realize
the hard truth. We had to cut our losses. We had to bag the idea of
driving to Mexico and beyond. This was an extremely hard decision, but
we could not cross the line to idiocy.

We charged into the import office and thought we had no chance of
getting any refund. We demanded at least $500 back. By some miracle we
walked out of their office with $1,200!

By Crystals suggestion, we dropped her off at her Aunts house in El
Paso and bade our new friends goodbye.

We head West...

Caught in the proverbial cogs of bureaucracy...

Laredo tx is more like Mexico than it is America. It is a rare
occasion when we find someone here who speaks English. The culture
also follows suit for South of the border where watches are more
jewelry than devices for keeping time. When they tell you ten more
minutes it turns to 24 more hours. Countless times have they told us
everything will be ready in ten minutes.

And now everything is finally ready, but we still don't have the
paperwork. We now have to unload everything, yes everything from the
bus and send that over one bridge. Then we drive the bus empty over
another bridge.

We just tried crossing the border with the bus ourselves to leave the
stuff and then come back through to drive across the other bridge to
import but they told us what we were trying to do was illegal. They
gave us the option of impounding the bus, or returning to the states.
We choose the latter. So now we must find someone with a truck and
trailer to carry our insane amount of things across. Hopefully we will
be able to start this in the morning and all will be done tomorrow....
Ha, it's hard to type that with out laughing.

Patience is being stretched. Beyond belief. Will this every end? Is
someone going to tell us this is all a joke? Please...

Southbound bus update: Laredo

Purgatory: Between Two Places

We got across the border way too easy. Even though our bus was packed
with things that needed to be searched, two lady agents boarded the
bus and after Clint (and Tank) flashed their pearly whites, they let
us in without sending us to get searched as they said they were
supposed to.

After only being in Mexico under an hr still searching for the
permitting office for the bus, the trusty police pulled us over to get
their first bribe. They made up some bogus crime about driving in the
wrong lane and told us we needed to pay them $120 to take off the
ticket for us. After a little groveling, and dropping the mission and
church card a few too many times, we got them to accept $30. That was
the last of our 'success'.

Frustration and turmoil have marked the trip since as we have had
endless troubles with the unorganized bureaucracy. We seem to have
fallen into the cracks in the system and no one knows what to do with
us. Everyone thinks it is someones else's job to give us a driving
permit. We have gone from residential to commercial and from bridge to
bridge, the mysterious yellow school bus seems to baffle everyone
beyond the point of being able to help us.

The agents and guards we have spoken to said we could take our chances
without the permit, but we could be fined, get the bus impounded or
even thrown in jail when we get stopped at check points. Not a good
option. If we avoid the major roads so as to avoid the checkpoints, we
then will be driving along the roads were our chance of getting robbed
goes through the roof. Also not the most desirable option.

So here we are stuck between two places, not able to drive into the
country, but across the border. We were told they should never have
let us cross. Have you ever seen 'The Terminal' with Tom Hanks? That's
us.

So we're trapped in Nuevo Laredo. One of the most dangerous towns in
Mexico. The Mexican we talked to at the gas station before the border
said he would never go back again. He said he could hear the guns
shots from there. As we drove in Mexico armored boats patrolled the
water, trucks loaded with heavily armed men drove the streets, and
beastly armored tanks sat ready as if waiting for a huge onslaught.

A small church said we could park the bus there for the night as we
waited till the next day to talk to someone else. This would surely be
a dangerous place to stay. Even though we were worried about not being
about to get back into Mexico, we are carrying three little children
on board and it didn't seem prudent to sleep in a war zone.

We headed back to the American border with hopes that he Mexican
Consulate might be able to help us get this permit. Crossing through
back to the States, we were treated as a bus and all had to unload and
then they passed a giant x-ray machine around the bus searching for
illegals and drugs. We pulled into a Wal-mart parking lot for the
night and cooked some noodles on the asphalt. Tired of being cramped,
clint slept below the soft glow of the parking lot lights on the roof
of the bus.

We were told several times that it is just impossible for us to enter
with our bus. 'We should just sell it.' Nope! We are pressing on.

This morning we set off to the Consulate with high hopes that were
quickly shattered. So plan Z now has become plan A. We are importing
the vehicle to be a Mexican vehicle. This will alter our trip but
adventures require changes some times. We will just have to make sure
we sell it in Mexico. The first price quote we got was over $2000 to
import! After much haggling we got the price down to around &1300.
Still a lot, but it enables us to press on, get Crystal home, and be
able to sell it later. It will take two days to import. So we wait.

A visitor in the night..

Last night, as the small Hispanic children were snoozing away nestled deep within the couch cushions, they were awakened by the blue lights of the Mississippi state patrol, that had been stalking our bus. Knowing we certainly weren't speeding, we were curious as to why we had this visitor in the night. We discovered our crime was driving a yellow bus.
Apparently, only schools are allowed to fly the yellow colors.
Our fears quickly melted into enjoyment as Officer Richard shortly became our friend and ally. We explained our trip and he asked if we were seeing a psychiatrist. He laughed and we traded stories for a while on the side of i20. Totally stoked for us, he gave us his card, said he would follow the blog and keep us in his prayers

Reality TV

So fellow surfer and adventurer, Jason Forrest, stopped to send us off on our journey.

Tank: a Lover, a Fighter

Tank killed an 80lb male dog yesterday. After Tank mounted the other dog, the dog wasnt in love making mood and tried to reject Tanks generous offer. Sadly, this was signing his death wish. After all, this is Tank's world, and all other dogs just live in it.

24 hrs later we are cruising down i85 as our beloved gargantunine Rottweiler cuddles with our sweet Latino babies.


He is everything we wanted in a dog.

Ok, actually I got a bit carried away. The dog isn't dead, but Tank did make him bleed.