On love, loss and the cherished memory of Charlie

Right now I am sitting on the sun porch at my family's ranch in Wyoming. It's a beautiful day that is filled with soft flakes of snow falling outside, a heater at my feet, the company of the man I love and a coziness that I haven't felt in years. Everything would be perfect except for a profound sense of loss and sadness that creeps into the edges of these moments. It's not overpowering and by no means dominates our time up here, at least not anymore. It is, however, a quiet reminder that life is an ever evolving current that you can never, ever predict and never, ever try to prevent from happening because no matter what it'll get the better of you.

The sadness is here because exactly two weeks ago tonight we lost my dear, sweet dog Charlie. It happened quickly: neighbors' gunshots late at night spooked him, after which he ran into the woods and eventually to the highway where he met his end. It came so suddenly and without warning, but I am very glad that we were able to find him and bury him up in the hills overlooking our property.

I've told most of the people who are close to me. They have provided many words of comfort that are immensely appreciated. The grieving process has been difficult and it still comes back full-force at times. Luckily Bret and I have found solace in each other. We are slowly recovering.

Stoically contemplating life the last day we had him.

Charlie was a companion, a buddy, at times what I jokingly called a "surrogate baby," and one helluva trooper. He put up with so much uncertainty and change once he came into my life. In those 11 months that I had him he transformed from a sheltered and insecure sweetheart to become a real, bonafide dog who touched the lives of everyone he met. His jet black coat swiftly went gray within the first couple of months -- probably from the stress of being abandoned and from the countless new experiences we introduced him to. Bret and I would sometimes point to a new gray hair here and there and say, "That one's called Beth" and "There's Bret," and in a way I was worried how much he was seemingly aging. But there is a sweet irony to how much progress he made in the short time that I had him. Instead of aging, he was finally coming into his own. It was about time.

Charlie's presence and sudden departure from our lives has a particularly profound meaning to me. I like to think of it like he was born with a finite amount of love to share in this world and once he reached the tipping point, it was time for him to move on to the next stage of life. I, on the other hand, waited years and years to find the "perfect" dog. Once he met me, he finally had the outlet for all that love and I am sooo thankful that I got to share in most of it. To put it in another way, his (and my) cup overfloweth. There's no better feeling in the world than that.

Although he wasn't the supermodel companion that I envisioned one day adopting (you know how everyone is a reflection of their pets, right?), he turned out to be better than anything I could have imagined. I have never loved anything so hard in my life. I cannot imagine how things would have been if I hadn't been able to have him alongside me for this journey.

I hope that wherever and however he is reborn, he will continue to share his goodness, compassion, and love with everyone and everything who is worth sharing it. As far as his unlikely best furry friend is concerned, when it comes time for Katie to reunite with him at the great pearly backyard in the sky, she's promised me to greet him with a giant golden stick and finally let him have it without resistance (for once). I'm sure he'd appreciate that.

He is so profoundly loved and so sorely missed.

A beautiful resting place for a dear, sweet and beloved companion.

A limerick in honor of beer

We set out on this trip with naught a plan in mind

An adventure to craft and miles of road to find.

There was just one rule; to us it was clear --

If we spotted a brewery we'd have to drink beer.

Yes, I'll admit it was a plan unrefined.

It turned out to be genius, fail-safe and solid

Although we lacked money, our pleasures weren't squalid. 

We drank, inspected, drank more, and [almost] got wasted.

Collected stickers, met strangers -- every beer was tasted.

It's a wonder my arteries all haven't clotted.

From the coast then inland, back to the coast and then north

My boyfriend, our dogs and I set forth.

Then east and south, east and south again

It's a wonder I have any cells left in my brain.

More than thirty and counting breweries henceforth.

Below is a synopsis of -- no joke -- the 30+ breweries that we have visited to-date. It's borderline obsessive....

Brewery Tour Leg 1: https://goo.gl/maps/5p3i9 *

1. Firestone Walker Brewing Company -- Paso Robles, CA
2. Beach Chalet -- San Francisco, CA
3. Lagunitas Brewing Company -- Santa Rosa, CA
4. Anderson Valley Brewing Company -- Boonville, CA
5. North Coast Brewing Company -- Fort Bragg, CA
6. Fall River Brewing Company -- Redding, CA
7. Deschutes Brewery -- Bend, OR
8. Cascade Lakes Brewing Company -- Bend, OR
9. Rat Hole BrewPub -- Bend, OR
10. 10 Barrel Brewing Company -- Bend, OR

We brought these goofballs, Jessica and Ryan, with us to Lagunitas.

More goofing off in Oregon.

Brewery Tour Leg 2: https://goo.gl/maps/eznNT

1. Bend Brewing Company -- Bend, OR
2. Crux Fermentation Project -- Bend, OR
3. Fort George Brewery -- Astoria, OR
4. Astoria Brewing Company -- Astoria, OR
5. Seaside Brewing Company -- Seaside, OR ** 
6. Full Sail Brewing Company -- Hood River, OR
7. Double Mountain Brewery -- Hood River, OR
8. Mad Bomber Brewing Company -- Coeur d'Alene, ID ***
9. McCall Brewing Company -- McCall, ID
10. Payette Brewery -- Boise, ID
11. Cloud 9 Brewery -- Boise, ID

Met up with Bret's dad in Bend!

Los Vaciladores were big fans of this one.

Daintiness was invented somewhere near McCall, Idaho.

Dainty, I ain't: don't get in between this woman and bar grub.

Brewery Tour Leg 3: https://goo.gl/maps/H6lah

1. Wasatch Brewery -- Park City, UT
2. High West Distillery -- Park City, UT ****
3. Snowy Mountain Brewery -- Saratoga, WY
4. Steinley Cup Microbrew Festival and Competition -- Saratoga, WY
5. O'Dell Brewing Company -- Fort Collins, CO
6. Fort Collins Brewery -- Fort Collins, CO
7. Aspen Brewing Company -- Aspen, CO
8. Carbondale Beer Works -- Carbondale, CO
9. Copper Kettle Brewing Company -- Aurora, CO
10. Oskar Blues Brewery -- Longmont, CO
11. Prost Brewing Company -- Denver, CO

These were the breweries we tasted at the Steinley Cup:
Snake River Brewery (Jackson, WY)
Grand Teton Brewing Company (Victor, ID)
The Library Brewery (Laramie, WY)
Coal Creek Tap (Laramie, WY)
Prairie Fire Brewing (Gillette, WY)
Lander Brewing (Lander, WY)

That's about enough whiskey for me for a while.

Met up with my brother in between his art residency at Brush Creek Ranch, Wyoming.

Aspen is snooty but the beer there is great!

This is Bret's favorite brewery in Colorado.

Home is where my parents are which also happens to be at the Copper Kettle, my favorite brewery in Denver.

Layover in Wyoming (it's its own Brewery Tour Leg): https://goo.gl/maps/63VlP

Altitude Chophouse and Brewery -- Laramie, WY

Freedom's Edge Brewing Company -- Cheyenne, WY
And just yesterday: Shadows Pub and Grill -- Cheyenne, WY

*I'm limited to 10 per stretch on GoogleMaps
**I left this off the map because this was by far the worst brewery out of them all and it doesn't deserve to have any more visitors.
***I didn't get to go to this one so it doesn't count.
****This wasn't a brewery but rather a kick-ass whiskey joint!

Cleanliness is godliness…or work of the Devil

If we lived back in the Oregon Trail old timey days I’m sure that not bathing would totally fly with our covered wagon cohorts. In this day and age, a stinky woman with greasy hair and Sasquatch legs is not an ideal passenger seat companion.

Throughout the duration of this road trip, showers have become less and less frequent. The twice-daily tooth brushing regimen has been abandoned. What was left of any feminine appeal that I had before has disappeared entirely. As I sit in the car on our way to visit friends in Utah, I realize that the Mormon billboards and pamphlets have it all wrong. Alcohol and abortion aren’t the work of the Devil. Cleanliness is.

I’ve come up with the top 3 personal hygiene priorities that pretty much go to Hell in a hand basket when you’re on an extended road trip. They are listed in order of importance and subsequent abandonment.

#1: Bowel regularity

If you know me well (or have spent at least an hour in my company), you would know that the conversation will somehow inevitably end up on poop-related topics. I can’t explain why this happens but believe you me, if this girl’s insides aren’t happy she doesn’t make for a good road trip buddy.

The first thing to go on this trip was any semblance of healthy diet. Pretty much every meal involves French fries and a beer, and that doesn’t bode well on my already infrequent “habits.” I’ve found that exercise tends to help keep things on schedule, but that has also disappeared entirely. We had grand intentions of riding bikes every other day to offset the beer and bar grub but like most things in life that resolution fell by the wayside. As you can imagine, bathroom trips for this gal have degraded into a once in a blue moon experience. 

Actually we did fit in a pretty awesome bike ride in Redwood National Park.

And another day of bike riding with the added benefit of beer tasting in Bend, OR.

#2: Good hair days

Some people theorize that the less frequently you bathe, the less oils your body produces thereby reducing your need for a regular shower. I even know a few people who have tested that theory and they swear by it.

So far the longest I’ve gone is 5 days without showering and I can attest that this theory is completely bunk. The 100+ degree weather in Oregon and Idaho was not conducive to an acceptable odor in the car (not referring to the dogs). My beloved Mammoth trucker hat covers things up nicely but it’s starting to accumulate a ring around it that’s as big as the Deepwater Horizon oil spill.

It has been fun, however, figuring out ways to use the handy dandy solar shower that we brought with us. There is NOTHING in this world that is better than a crisp, clean shower in the middle of the woods with no one to sneak up on you for miles. The only thing wrong with this situation is when you have to source your water from a moldy lake that has more unidentifiable floaties in it than the population of Mexico City. Yes, that happened. Yes, it was still refreshing as ever.

Hippie shower essentials: 2-in-1 shampoo, travel soap, a mini towel, and a 5-gallon bag full of renewable energy-powered warmth.

Can’t beat an outdoor shower in a setting like this! Sans the forest fire smoke in the background.

This is somewhere on the Nez Perce Reservation in Idaho.

#3: Wearable clothes

We’ve only done laundry twice over the last month. ‘Nuf said. Which means I’ve resorted to wearing the same shorts for over a week and change underwear every other day (ick, I know). It’s more than likely that those shorts have a layer of poison oak on them somewhere (I contracted yet ANOTHER case of poison oak from who knows where). Dammitalltohell! I'm pretty sure it was Charlie who gave it to me this time.

To conclude, in the poetic words from the Pitcher side of my family I should mention that if you’re on my list to visit I promise to shit, shower and shave before we meet up. At least I hope to! 

Travels with Katie and Charlie

It's not so ironic that I am currently reading John Steinbeck's classic Travels with Charley while on this meandering tailspin of a road trip. I didn't really plan it that way, but it turns out that it is the perfect accompaniment for an adventure like this. Not to mention the fact that my dog's name is also Charlie, our truck is as well-equipped as the mighty Rocinante, and I write every bit as well as Steinbeck. Maybe not that last part, but pretty much everything else is totally on point.

One of the opening passages in the book talks about a concept that completely aligns with our approach to this trip, one that I don't mind plagiarizing in this post because there really is no better way to describe it. He writes:

"In Spanish there is a word for which I can't find a counterword in English. It is the verb vacilar, present participle vacilando. It does not mean vacillating at all. If one is vacilando, he is going somewhere, but does not greatly care whether or not he gets there, although he has direction."

I often think of what is going through our two dogs' minds as we've made our way through northern California, Oregon, Washington, and now Idaho. Case in point, these two are vacilando to the T and I have a feeling that they're loving it.

Take Charlie for instance.

This dog has spent 50% of his life in the cone of shame since he met me. 

If you've met him, you would know that he and I are a perfect match. We're like two peas in a pod -- we're both easygoing (unless we're tied up on a park bench or tree and are left alone with no view of our loved ones), crave affection (almost to a fault), love attention (but don't know what to do with it once we get it), have poop problems (more on that later), have separation anxiety issues (ask Bret about that one), and can't carry a tune worth a damn (it's a beagle/Ross thing). I'm pretty sure that the unpredictability of this road trip has messed with his head, but I'm judging it as a success in the long run because this dog really needed to lighten up. And so did I. And we're doing it quite well!

Katie, on the other hand, is Charlie's antithesis.

Katie and Arcata, reunited at long last.

Bret found her as a puppy just outside of Arcata 11 years ago. He has molded her into a dog of amazing fortitude and grace who is chill as f&%*. She would rather be left alone outside to watch the grass grow in perfect silence, away from Charlie's howls and out of arm's reach from those annoying people who want to pet her, rather than to sit on the couch next to you and put up with your human-ness. Unless you're eating, in which case she'll stare you down until she gets a piece of whatever you have and then swallows it without even chewing. She's an awesome dog and is a great role model for Charlie. Really couldn't ask for a better travel buddy (aside from Bret).

These two are masters of what Steinbeck means by vacilando because they have direction (whether they like it or not) but really couldn't care less whether or not we get to where we're going. That may be because they have no clue where we're going in the first place, but that's beside the point. We seriously have no home except for the bed of the truck, and they're totally ok with it. I think I may call them my vaciladores from here on out.

Here are a few pictures from their perspective during our early adventures on this trip:

Passed out after a long day of beer tasting and disc golf at Anderson Valley Brewing in Boonville, CA.

Going apeshit over the awesome waves at Clam Beach just outside of Arcata, CA.

Relishing the only shade after a 2,000 foot climb up Saddle Mountain in northwest Oregon.

I really couldn't be happier, even if I have no room to move.

More posts to come soon. Next time I promise they'll be about the human perspective of this trip!

On the road again...

This time last summer, I was reveling in the sights and sounds of a brief but much-needed return to the Rockies after finishing the first year of graduate school. It was a formative experience that was very much worth it, but it was also an existential trip down memory lane that was counting on some semblance of certainty once school would be completed.

A year later, I've graduated and guess what: it's pretty clear that it's time for more reflection. Well...it's more like, hey, I'm unemployed, I have no home now that my lease has ended, and I have no concrete plans yet because I'm trying to avoid the 9-5 life as much as conceivably possible until funds run out...so why sit around and twiddle my thumbs when I could be traveling instead? 

The Plan: 

There are enough cooking blogs out there to sink a battleship so I might as well write about something more akin to The Adventures of Milo and Otis than juice cleanses and substitutes for cream cheese. 

This time around I'm going to write about the next couple months on the road. It'll be just me, my boyfriend, our dogs, a home constructed out of the back of his truck, and a great deal of uncertainty to keep things interesting. 

Behold: our new home and the latest foray into "f"unemployment!

I have faith in this new living situation. Bret is a master of mobile living (he spent 2 years living in a camper before college). Ron and Joe are engineers by trade, so I'm [pretty] sure that this raised bed concoction won't collapse under us. Our dogs Katie and Charlie are the best travel companions that we could ever hope for (even if Charlie craps at least 3 times a day and Katie slobbers up a storm). And I have spent the last two months mentally prepping for irregular access to a bathroom and an uncertain hygienic future. I don't foresee too many problems on the horizon. As long as the car doesn't break down and we don't run out of money anytime soon.

The Execution:

The plan is to end up at a water conference in Snowmass, CO on August 20th in time to network the shit out of things and eventually land our dream jobs. Until then, we will explore everything nomadic about life on the road that includes breweries, disc golf, fishing, hiking, and lots of outdoor time. 

We've devised a rough route of where we want to go but I'm sure that it'll be revised as we get further into the trip. For now it consists of the better parts of California, Oregon, Idaho and Montana and lots of sunflower seeds to keep us awake at the wheel.

The End of an Era: 

Two years ago I cleaned out my life and put everything into a 4' by 4' storage space. A master's degree, a boyfriend, and a dog later, I have given away the majority of my worldly possessions and plan to embrace uncertainty head-on. This is really the best time to embark on such a journey and I'm looking forward to sharing the best of it. Stay tuned for sporadic tidbits about life on the road!

Our bed constructing engineering marvel of a team: Ron, me, Bret, and Joe