Back dated: Mississippi Blues and BBQ tour

Our adventure began on April 20, when Anna said her final goodbye to Bippo the Hippo, and we jumped in the Tacoma to head north on Highway 61.  The blues highway from New Orleans to Memphis took us into the heart of the Mississippi delta, the former capital of the Cotton Kingdom and the cradle of the blues.

The blues is truly American music in its purest form; simple, emotive, beautiful in its strength.  Every popular genre today owes something to the blues, and there isn't an American musician who can't sit down and knock out a 12 bar blues riff for his or her friends to play on.  The blues is real, created by black sharecroppers in extreme poverty and oppression on wire strings nailed to old boards.  In Mississippi, we learned that a guitar "can't play the blues unless its been in a pawn shop."  The vocals cry out from pain and the lyrics speak of love, death, and working in the fields.

Sadly, the environment that created the blues still exists today.  The poverty we saw in the Mississippi Delta rivaled that we've seen in any other part of the world.  We drove through cotton fields and dying towns, with no industry besides the cotton gin, no stoplight, no school, not even a stop sign.  People lived in run-down trailers and government housing.  Every town of any size had train tracks running down the center, separating the old white downtown from the African-American area.  It was easy to imagine B.B. King standing on the corner, whaling out his heart-broken songs.

I'll continue more details on this trip in another post.

I've been bobbing at the Inlet

We've been slack posting to our blog because we've been "relaxing" at Murrell's Inlet, SC.  It's tough to blog when you are bobbing.

For those not experienced in bobbing, there are a few required items: a beer, preferably in a coozie; peanuts, boiled or parched in the shell; a flotation device, such as a noodle; a line to maintain one's position against the current (unless one is moving with the current); and a natural body of water too deep to touch bottom.  One enters the water from a dock or the shore, submersing one's entire body below the surface, save the head, which is maintained above the surface the flotation device in order to consume the aforementioned beer and peanuts.  One may reman in position using a line tied to the dock or boat, or drift with the tide or current.  If the latter option is chosen, it is best to bring along shoes for the return trip over land.

Several expert bobbers joined Anna and me at King's Krest in Murrell's Inlet, SC, including Pops and Mops (my parents), Caroline and William Hartley (Jimmy was spreading the Good News in Equador), Uncle Gene, Aunt Doris B., and Bryant King, Aunt Mary C., Uncle Jim, and Catherine Sutherland, and Susie Peikert.  It was the first time in many years that I was able to bob in such esteemed company.  We also journeyed to the Waccamaw River, where we bobbed at Sandy Island.  It was a wonderful family gathering.  Thank you, Dadoo and Mamoo (my grandparents, who are now deceased).

In addition to bobbing, there was extensive boating and skiing.  The refurbished Inlet Dolphin was able to pull Caroline up on one ski.  The ScholarShip was a skiing machine, pulling Catherine up on slalom for the the first time in years, allowing Caroline and me to show off our double-ski tricks, getting Mops and Pops up on two, getting UNCLE GENE up on two for the first time in 15+ years, and training Anna to slalom for the first time.  We're still working on that one.

The highlight of the week was talent night, where the family was joined by Roosevelt and Jan and Leon Rice.  Through the evening of laughter and memories, the family shared jokes, a fashion show (Bryant hit Aunt Doris dead on), original poems, dance, and songs, and even dental work.  We ended with Roosevelt leading us in a few rounds of "Amen".

I have been coming to King's Krest since before I was born, and my mother before me, and my grandfather before her.  The venerable house has weathered hurricanes, motorcycle gangs, and generations of bobbers.  William became the 4th generation to bathe in the sink on the eating porch.  The pluff mud is in my veins, and now it is in Anna's.  The family has done a fantastic job in recent years updating and repairing the vintage 1903 home, and it has never looked better.  I hope and pray we can all come together and get creative with ways to sustain King's Krest so that 4 more generations can enjoy bobbing at the Inlet.

Monos, Sloths, and Toucans

The trifecta of Costa Rican animal watching.  We found them all yesterday during three hours of hiking around Manuel Antonio.  While others were shirtless in bathing suits and flipflops, we had on full adventure gear for our park experience, and it paid off.  We tracked the squirrel, white-faced Capuchin, and howler monkees, three-toed sloths, and toucans.  The howler monkees can be heard all over the park, including from our hotel room, belting out their barking growl.  The capuchins came up close to visit us, one hanging from a tree only feet away from us.  This park is like an outdoor zoo.  After wearing ourselves out thoroughly, we returned to Lester at the swim up bar in the infinity pool for some well-deserved celebratory Imperial beer.  Actually, I did that while Anna took a nap.  Then she joined me for sunset.

Anna is teaching me lots of Spanish.  Yesterday, I learned how to say, "Your rat-tail hairdo is ice cold."

forgot one thing

On our way out of the park, we encountered a flooded path. Apparently the tide had come in and there was a river inbetween us and our car. Several local boatmen offered to take us across, stating that they would keep us safe from the crocadiles. Yeah right. Savy travelers that we are, we saved five dollars and plunged ahead in the knee deep water.  Safely on the other side, we looked back to see a six foot croc lazing his way across the water. Whoops.

Birthday cont.

A bit of a struggle to use the Droid for this. Anyway, some racoons came on the beach to try to raid people's lunch, and a big black iguana paid us a visit. We headed home for some swim-up bar time. There we saw Richard, the retired Marine Seargent Major who now lives in Costa Rica with his 24 year old wife and teaches fly fishing. We had seen him earlier have two tequilas for breakfast, and he bought us a birthday round of Patron. He was like a character in a Jimmy Buffet song. We ate dinner in an old CIA cargo plane used for arms runs to the Nicuaguan Contras in the 80's.

Today we are going to see more monkeys.

Birthday Monkeys

I am sitting on our porch overlooking the Pacific ocean on one side and the rainforest of Manuel Antonio on the other and listening to the howler monkeys call to each other. They sound like the sand people from Star Wars. It may be the best view in town. This is a strange place, where we are in the mountains, but we can hear and see the ocean waves.

We had a leisuely morning for my birthday, enjoying our hotel and the view. We headed to the park to find monkeys, only to find that we left our cash in the hotel. Not too far, and only a little frustration and we were back at it. On the way to the park, guys stand in the road with whistles and signs to convince you that they are official parking. They gave each other away as dudes trying to make a buck when they started competing for my parking dollar. However, much like Jazz Fest parking, you pay someone to park so they will not break into or vandalize your car. The park is like a wild animal park. We saw squiril monkeys not 50 feet onto the trail and toucans a bit farther down.  Soon we came on a pack of howler monkeys.  A short walk led us to the beach, where we took a dip in the surprisingly warm Pacific.  Unfortunately the waves got bigger quickly, and we nearly lost our shoes when a big set went far up the sand. I chased them down and got lucky..

El Sol

We are drinking cacique (sugar cane liquor) and Imperial (local beer) in the tree house (actually built in a fig tree) while a monster storm passes. The ceviche was the best I've ever had. I don't think they consider using anything but fresh juice here in anything. Our cottage here is outside of Santa Elena up a dirt road on the side of the mountain.  Our host is from Germany, but has lived here thirteen years. She greets us with a hug, and we shared some wine while she planned our tours for us.  Last night, we hung around our cottage. We watched the sunset over the forest covered mountains while butterflies fluttered by and howler monkees called to each other by the river. We took a cool dip in the infinity pool dug into the side of the mountain and then enjoyed warming up in the wood-fired sauna. The neighbors brought us our dinner of rice, beans, shrimp and avacado tacos, steak, and mashed yucca and a bottle of wine for forty five dollars. When the sun goes down here, we are soon to follow. This is a day time place.

canopy tour

Just got off the ziplines in the Montrverde cloud forest. Amazing flights hundreds of feet in the air over canyons and forest. We were both very brave and did the superman line hooked in by our backs and the tarzan swing. for the latter, we walked a hundred feet out into a canyon on a suspension bridge and jumped into space, hooked to a swing line. The free fall was probably sixty feet before we swang out. Anna made a sound I've never heard her make, somewhere between a yell and a grunt. We've already seen many hummingbirds (Nanny would've loved this place), toucans, parrots, a glow worm, and trees like avatar.

Our adventure pants are working well.

Canyoning

We just went canyoning in Arenal, Costa Rica.  Unbelievable trek down a river canyon, including 4 rappels, 2 of which were 150 and 200 feet high.  Got to run now, because we are heading to the hot springs to relax.  It is beautiful and amazing here.