San Diego (at last!!!)…and our laundry list of pre-border-crossing projects.

We spent two weeks with our toes hanging over the edge of the diving board, parked in San Diego, both working furiously and dragging our feet as we oscillated between dying to dive over the border and being paralyzed with the standard American fear of everything unknown. Chelsea's old friends (or as Ricky would call us, family ["And he's right," says Chelsea]) took us in and let us park in the front yard of their newly acquired and very beautiful home. Even Lolou made herself comfortable, meeting and making friends with Rick and Ashley's Australian Shepherd, June.

We arrived just before Thanksgiving, and spent the day leading up to the holiday helping Ashley and Rick paint and troubleshoot problems in their home.  As paint was splashed on walls, furniture moved around rooms, and seats added to toilets, we realized it was fantastic to be needed and be helpful. Chelsea and I often talk about "having purpose" on our trip, and I think that having small projects that help others is like a methadone clinic for those addicted to the American mentality. We're trying to quit the rat-race, but we can't go cold turkey. Sometimes we need to feel like we have immediate, purchased-through-labor value to other people, whomever they may be. A normal person, or perhaps just a normal American, could find this value in a 9-5 job, a vocation, a profession. Because we are wayward travelers now, having no purpose can become a source of major anxiety. We need some help as we let go of the American rat race. We need small jobs, and for two weeks in San Diego painting walls, cooking meals, and repairing plumbing were the little hits of the value-drug we needed. Rick and Ashley, you were our dope clinic!

The living room got new hues on the day before thanksgiving. The next day we would all cook a meal for 12. Pretty cool for a three week old house!

Even Lolou made herself at home.

June scoping out the camera, Loulou scoping out June's butthole.

Rick and Ashley's dog June (other names: Junebug, Junebear, JuneJuneJune, "HEYJUNE!", and "STOPLICKINGTHEDEERHEAD!").

Our parking spot at the house on the quietest street in Southern California.

Our time was split between 4 major themes: working on the house, working on Little Foot the Pinzgauer, meeting Chelsea's extensive family of friends (many, if not most, of which were connected through a SPECTACULAR CHURCH called Barabbas Road), and exploring bits of San Diego. I'd help Rick with projects he had (including rolling around in sewage under the house one day, replacing a bunch of cast iron plumbing with nice, new, rot-free ABS pipe) or I'd wrench on Little Foot. Chelsea would connect with friends and plan our evening as I rolled around in sewage, gear oil, or sometimes both.

My list of projects for Little Foot included: drain and refill all 12 gear-oil chambers under the rig, change the oil, check the valve lashes, rotate the tires, replace two axle boots and patch a third, rebuild our shower, install a water pump for the kitchen, add a few racing stripes to the paint job, and rework some solar/house wiring. By the end of our stay we felt okay about where Little Foot was in the world of maintenance and livability. We had reliable power, running water, new oil(s) and a flashy paint job that was less army and more German Flag than ever. The color choice was TOTAL CHANCE!

We also got Loulou her papers. A rabies shot, a general wellness certificate (signed in pen in triplicate... just in case) and eight months of flea medications got her ready for a border crossing. We didn't really plan on getting her the flea vaccination, but she actually got fleas at some point between Montana and San Diego, so now we have it. Its probably a blessing, because she probably will meet some mangey critters at some point in her travels (not the least mangey to be us).

Ricky also built us an AWESOME step to making getting to Little Foot's roof much easier. It has a single hook on the top and uses the roof rack mounts as an anchor. it has three hand holds, for easy climbing, and a 2x6 as a step. It makes climbing to the roof much easier, which is good because we have been articulating the solar panels more often lately, as we are now using them as our sole provider of energy to the house circuit.

At one of San Diego's many, fantastic breweries with some of Chelsea's many, fantastic friends.

Just draining some gear oil. No big deal.

Dancing in the Coronado twilight at the dog beach. June is somewhere, playing frisbee with Rick like and fury, insatiable, turbo-charged WRX with an bottomless fuel tank.

Paint makes it go FASTER!

More paint makes it go MORE FASTER!

Loulou getting her papers.

Celebrating paint! And in the right light... German heritage?

Building a cool step that doubles as a rope swing.

Getting on top made WAY easier.

Attaching... something.

Loulou looking on, wondering why I smell like burned baby diapers stewed in turpentine, which is the exact smell of 90w gear oil.

With some jobs finished, we reluctantly left the warm embraces of a stick-n-brick house with a functioning kitchen and bathroom. We spent our last day planning our route and finishing paperwork. We bought insurance for Little Foot, and our travel permits for Mexico, and downloaded apps and maps like crazy. And you know what? At the end of our last day in the US we didn't feel ready to cross the border. So, instead of worrying, we drank a beer, played a game of Settlers of Catan, and the next day we crossed anyways.

California Part 2: Central Coast and closing in on San Diego!

Getting out of the San Francisco area was no small (or cheap) task. Chelsea routed us through what she thought would be the most direct route, forgetting that the bridges were tolled and we had an extra axel (which more than doubled the tolls). Her route, however, did take us over the famous Golden Gate, and the view was worth it.

After we exited San Francisco we plunged back into fantastic California coast scenery, again taking many chances to stop and wander. We tracked down one of Chelsea's favorite campsites from her trip up the coast years ago, and it was just as magical this time around. Butano State Park, if anyone is interested. 

Surprisingly light California traffic.

Golden Gates.

Butano State Park.

More outstanding California surf.

A few spots were ludicrously beautiful.

After staying in Butano, and paying the hefty $35 fee (it honestly feels like a fine for enjoying nature) we were very motivated to camp for free for a night. Unfortunately, much of the surrounding National Forest was burnt and the roads were closed to anything but moving thru-traffic. We found a nice parking spot and made dinner, and were even visited by some fantastic travelers who couldn't help but stop and gander at our rig.

We made dinner, walked Loulou, and basked in the waning light of a beautiful sunset, until a county official drove by and told us to move on or risk a fine. Alas, stealth camping doesn't always work! We found a pull-off down the road and gave camping another try, and thankfully weren't bothered through the night.

Getting ready for the sunset show.

We've been trying to adapt Loulou to a harness. It hasn't worked.

A nice spot to park and make dinner, but we were run off by the officials. Dang!

I was in awe all evening. The Sunset was truly magical.

Waves, sunset, and the highway.

Little Foot posing.

Just the best spot to make dinner.

More sunset. More Little Foot.

Just before we were ran off, Chelsea got out her tripod to start shooting some night photos. Quite nice!

The next day we were running low on oil, and our pre-occupation regarding finding more 20w50 led us to forget about our fuel level! We ran Little Foot dry, and had a rough time getting him started again. Luckily, we were on our way to see a Pinzgauer Mechanic, and he took our calls and talked us through restarting our rig. In doing so, however, I drained our truck batteries, so I had to swap in our house batteries and re-rig all our wiring. I took us over two hours to get Little Foot running, but run he did! The problem lay in priming the carburetors after they ran dry. It required removing the air box, and capping the top of each carb individually to allow the suction to draw fuel. Now we know for next time!

After that we made it to Morrow Bay and rolled into an RV resort. we were beat, and we didn't mind paying for camping because it allowed us to shut our brains off. We cleaned, plugged into the grid to charge our batteries, did some laundry, and watched shows on Netflix/HULU. Sometimes you need some TV, even on the road.

Let the wrenching begin. God gave us a nice place to roll to a stop, though. Safe, secluded, and quiet.

Batteries out, swapped, air box off, diagnostics happening. Finally he roared to life!

Morrow Bay, a nice RV resort!

Between San Francisco and San Bernardino, we happened to stop at Shepherd of the Mountains Lutheran Church for a bible study and a Sunday morning service, which was excellent. They are a remarkably welcoming congregation, and their church is beautiful. After the service, we found a note on our windshield, asking us to come a visit a gentleman who found Little Foot quite interesting. He too is a collector of the best kinds of vehicles, and was happy to show off his collection of International harvester Scouts, Travelletes, and old army trucks. Very cool!

Me drooling at the IH trucks.

Outside San Bernadino we camped and waited on our mechanic, Mr. Jim Laguardia of Goatwerks Garage, to have some free time to inspect Little Foot. The local Walmarts don't allow overnight parking, so we camped up a ragged dirt road, that really and truly stretched the limit of "dirt". There wasn't a speck of dirt, but rather 3 miles of jagged, sharp California granite scree. It was terrible, but at least the views were nice! We arrived in the dark and couldn't appreciate our views until the next morning.

We spent a day waiting in San Bernardino, blogging and updating things, and camping in the driveway of a relative of one of Chelsea's college friends. We are remarkably thankful for the generosity of all the folks on the road who take us in. We couldn't do what we do without you!

Once Jim had a little time for us, we found his garage and he got to work. I specifically wanted him to look at our carburetors, for while I thought they were running fine, he is known as THE Pinzgauer carb guy. And, as it turns out, our carburetors weren't running fine. He told us that not only were they broken and underpowered, but they were essentially ticking time bombs. He fixed us up with a new throttle body, some new parts, a handful of new jets, a carb balance, and a simple tune up. We were out the door with loads more power and more confidence! Time and money well spent! Thanks Jim!!

Camping above San Bernadino because the Walmarts wouldn't have us.

At Jim's with the daylight fading and wrenches flying.

Little Foot in the company of his own. Again.

Jim on the left working, and me on the right figuring out how I can be like Jim when I grow up.

California Part 1: Northern Coast, Redwoods, and Expedition Imports

Northern Coast of California

Heading out of Oregon and into California was a big deal. Borders for us have been both finish lines and starting lines. With Oregon behind us, we started on what will HOPEFULLY be our last US state for a while, and definitely our longest. Our route, with no detours, would have us driving nearly 900 miles from north to south. With that in mind, we started in on California.

Northern California was nearly as beautiful as The Oregon coast, with a few spots that were beyond gorgeous. We took short walks where stopping wouldn't do a view justice, and we paid for camping where we had to. A note to travelers: California camping is expensive! Most state parks are at least $35 a night, and even trashy county parks are $25. Plan and beware.

Having fun.

Loulou exploring at a campsite. She gets to walk around once we park for the night, but we have to keep an eye on her.

We took as many coastal detours as we could, mostly because the roads were slower as we got closer to the coast. One of our many side excursions was on the Coastal Drive out of Klamath, CA. Definitely worth it. The road is a winding, one way snake of asphalt that leads to nothing but beautiful views. There is a small day-use park, the High Bluff Overlook picnic area, that is very worth the drive. There are a few view areas at the one bluff, and a 30 minute walk around will load you with Instagram and Facebook fodder.

Posing with a coastline At High Bluff Overlook. This is me looking greasy.

It was windy!

The panoramas don't do it justice.

Chels shooting the sea, looking majestic.

Redwoods

After driving along the coast for days, we veered inland to visit California's beautiful redwood trees. Go once in your life, because these trees are enormous and they require visiting. Many are hundreds of years old, hundreds of feet high, and eerie, in that they don't really look like any other trees you've seen. The crowns start hundreds of feet in the air, so the forests are wide open on the floor but dark as can be from the thick canopy above. Its fantastic.

There are multiple pockets of redwood forests along the drive, and I do recommend visiting one or all. One morning we made a fantastic breakfast on the road under the emerald canopy thanks to the numerous and very large pull-offs that dot any road going through the forests. The municipalities, the state, and the federal government know that people want to pull over and stop here, so there is room for it to happen.

Walking in one of the many, many small redwood groves accessible off the 101.

Fashion shoot!

Standing inside a living, burnt-out redwood. Very cool.

The light was magical at times.

There are a handful of named, noticeable trees, including Big Tree.

The redwood forests were punctuated with gorgeous lengths of coastline. Like a spaceship visiting different worlds, we rolled between entirely different ecosystems, one day walking on black beaches next to thunderous surf, and the next in nearly silent , 1000 year old forests.

One of these beaches, just above the Lost Coast, held a special memory for Chelsea, as it was one of the places her family had stopped on their camping trips. We stopped there and played in the tidal pools and climbed some rocks and said a prayer or two for Chelsea's late sister and dad, as they were there decades ago enjoying the beach as a family. We're thousands of miles from anything we've called home, and yet we consistently manage to find glimpses of places that hold familiarity and comfort for us.

Parked near tidal pools.

Visiting the tidal pools she'd played among as a child.

We stayed that night in a pull-out on a road that would eventually dump us back into the Redwood State Park. It wasn't ideal, but there wasn't much traffic (and it all seemed to be local anyways) and no one hassled us. We got moving early the next morning and stopped only to make breakfast once we were among the giant redwoods.

Breakfast with the giants.

We rarely have photos together, but a kind lady offered, so we took her up on it.

Christian…being the fire.

A massive fallen redwood and the split wood that resulted. 

As we approached San Francisco we ran out of viable camping options, but luckily with a little asking we could still find spots to "stealth-camp" in relative solitude. We asked a local merchant, the purveyor of fine goods at the Elk Store, in Elk CA, if he knew anywhere to park overnight, and he offered up his store's parking space! What a guy. If you are in Elk, CA, we recommend checking them out for some smoked tuna or salmon jerky.

The next morning we vacated our roadside campsite and headed down to one of California's many lighthouse for breakfast with a view. Our breakfasts rotate between quick and easy oatmeal (plus spices, raisins, almond milk, peanut butter, etc) and banana oatmeal pancakes. The pancakes dirty an extra dish, but the light house view called for extra effort!

Enjoying a sunset in Elk, California.

Our view from the camper that evening.

Banana oatmeal pancakes by the seaside.

The ladies sitting outside.

Loulou enjoying the sun and the view.

Expedition Imports

Tucked away in a light industrial district of Vallejo California is a purpose built warehouse compound filled to the brim with Pinzgauers, Unimogs, G-Wagons, and all the parts you might need to keep one running. Expedition Imports was our destination since entering California, as we knew we needed spare parts for the most common breakdowns. I planned on buying some small rebuild kits and picking the collective brain of the guys at the shop, but we were in store for much, much more.

Scott, the owner of Expedition Imports, invited us into the compound and listened to enough of our story to know we needed help. Immediately he told us to drive Little Foot up onto his lift, and started in on a full diagnosis of our rig. With help from his mechanic Brian, the identified some weak links in Little Foot's current state, and started putting together a basket of goodies for us to bring on our trip.

The guys noticed that my muffler had a common wear/damage spot, but also recognized that Chelsea and I aren't the expensive-new-muffler kind of people, so Scott hooked us up with a deal. If we could tear the muffler off a parts truck out back, we could have it for a discounted price. Sounds good to us! As the sun set on central California, we grabbed some tools and got to work.

"Is this a problem? Is this a problem? Is this a problem?" - new Pinzgauer owner.

Little Foot on the lift, next to a 712M to the left and a really expensive Unimog to the right.

Parts parts parts!

The guys offering me a good looking new/used muffler.

Putting in the wrench time for a discounted part.

A panorama of all the rigs including Mogs spanning three decades, original Steyr-Puch G Wagons, and a handful of 4x4 and 6x6 Pinzgauers. It was beautiful. We felt normal!

We worked for a full day under the lift. It was great. The exhaust played nice for the most part.

I don't think the guys at Expedition Imports know how much they helped Chelsea and I. I also don't think they need our endorsement, as they run a great business and offer an excellent product, but I would feel remiss if I didn't sing their praises at least a little. If you need parts, or more specifically a parts solution for your weird and awesome rig, call them. They are a wealth of knowledge, they know their vehicles inside and out, and they are very willing to talk you out of a purchase. That, to me, is the hallmark of an honest business man. You may want a truck, and you may be ready to buy one, but Scott and Brian won't sell you one until they have ripped those rose-colored glasses right off your face.

So that's that for the first half of California, next week we'll try to summarize the southern half, because we're getting closer to the border and more excited every day!