The End

After meeting up, the three of us went to a weekend gathering, where I met some great motorcycle people from all over the United States. Then we worked our way home over a week, stopping at Great Sand Dunes National Park and a few other National This and Thats. In Kansas, we watched an incredible thunderstorm move across the sky many miles to the west of our campsite. Dark clouds slid along the horizon flashing long torturous bolts of light. The show lasted so long that we got tired and went to bed before it was over! I wouldn’t have thought it possible to be bored by lightening. Two more days of driving and we were home. That one trip of a lifetime has already become two, as the following year The Dude and I spent six weeks in the Southwest, mostly in Utah’s five national parks.

Looking back on my trips I see a few things I would have done differently. Mainly I wouldn’t have taken so much stuff. After getting home, I spent some of my unpacking and cleanup time removing items that I didn’t use on the trip. I know I said you can’t have too many books, but that was wrong. I could have used the space for some of the books I bought.

I had taken my be-prepared Girl Scout pledge seriously in packing for the trip, so I had brought along lots of tools and spare parts. In reorganizing after the trip, I eliminated some hand tools, and packed all the spare headlamps and emergency repair items into the space vacated by the generator. I had not once used the generator, so Tom removed the gas and oil gobbling, noisy energy system. I had packed lots of rope and string and bungee cords. I kept a small selection of rope and string, plus all the bungees of many lengths. They often came in handy for holding the door open or closed, or for securing boxes or bags so they didn’t fling themselves around the camper when on the road. Some of my extra dishes went away, but it’s always nice to have a few extras so I can go longer between actually washing them after every meal. Hey! I’m taking vacations here.

The travel bug has as firm a grip on me now as it ever has. There are still many national parks I haven’t seen. Now that Tom is retired, we plan to travel the United States in our Toyota Matrix pulling our homemade Teardrop camping trailer. Tom welded a frame, added wheels and tires, and built the little cabin. If you know Tom, you know this will be one heck of a great camping unit. If you know Tom, you’ve probably already heard a lot about the project.

Traveling with our Toyota Matrix pulling the Teardrop, we should use about two-thirds less gas than driving the Toy House. The Matrix gets as much a 37 miles-per-gallon on the highway. When we get an average of even 27 MPG, that is much better than the Toy House’s ten to twelve MPG. This improvement is nice, not only because we save money on travel costs, but because it helps reduce the impact of our travel emissions.

I am the kind of detail tracking wacko who calculated how many miles I drove on my 2004 trip (8,245), how much money I spent (too much), and on what I spent it (foolish trinkets and books, camp site fees, food, and gas, gas, gas.). As I noted earlier, I paid about $1,400 for 750 gallons of gas at plus or minus $2 per gallon. That was the biggest expense. I only spent about $600 on lodging (camping fees and a few motels). On the other hand I spent about as much on my 10-week trek as my son and I spent for a two week trip to Peru in 2006. And I probably used about as much oil as I would have flying there. In 2004, I traveled through 18 states, saw 12 national parks (including national monuments and preserves), visited numerous state parks, met innumerable nice folks, and spent 10 glorious weeks exploring our country. Money well spent. Time well spent.

Was the “carbon footprint” well spent? That’ll vary by whom you’re asking. Some would say, “Huh? What’s a carbon footprint?” Good question. According to carbonfootprint.com, “A Carbon Footprint is a measure of the impact human activities have on the environment in terms of the amount of green house gases produced, measured in units of carbon dioxide.” According to me, it is how many other living beings you are stepping on when you live your life. I could figure out my global warming contribution, how much carbon monoxide I produced and what other toxic things I contributed to in my travels. Perhaps in a fit of pique one of my readers will email me the information, wanting to make my “guilt-print” larger. Check out your carbon footprint at http://www.carbonfootprint.com/.

Perhaps I offset my use of carbon when as a young woman I planted about fifty thousand trees in the State of Minnesota over several years. It’s true. On a good accessible site, I could plant one thousand red pine seedlings in a long day. There are the daily “sacrifices” I make in saving energy. The money I’ve spent on insulating my various houses over the years that could have been used for travel! Are these things not unlike the carbon offset trading going on in the world marketplace? So and so will plant trees to offset the pollution another company or individual produces. When Tom and I pay extra on our electric bill to support wind energy, we’re not really using the power coming directly from cleaner wind energy, but we are encouraging the utility to use more wind-created power.

We may be sick of hearing about how we are depriving future generations by gobbling up all the resources, but that doesn’t make it less true. I hope someone can develop sustainable technologies so people (I) can continue to travel. The experience of traveling is a gift. Travel must be a possibility. How else to visit a wonder you’ve only seen a photograph of or to find a wonder you never imagine existed?

Shall we dig up and clear all the landscapes for oil and metal and wood until there is no nature to visit? Most days it seems unlikely that we will conserve carbon fuels enough to stop global warming. Unlikely that our cities will develop mass transit fueled by renewable energy, reducing the carbon load of people commuting in individual vehicles. Unlikely that until we’re out of fuel, we will be generous enough to give up the freedom of movement our vehicles afford. Unlikely that everyone will be able to afford to insulate their homes and buy solar electricity. Unlikely that one day our leaders will listen and lead us to prosperity for the nation and not just for themselves. Unlikely that we’ll ever be at peace in this world long enough to attend to these more important things. Extend that line of reasoning and is it OK to use ANY oil? Sigh. That way lies madness. And perhaps the truth.

You can doubt there are problems until your electricity fails and the gasoline pumps are dry, but we and ours are going to deal with the problem eventually.

None of us humans are any good at solving the big problems or we wouldn’t have so many big problems. I may feel superior that my car and teardrop camper is only using 27 miles-per-gallon of gas when I see the super motor homes cruising down the freeway, but having been raised Catholic, I learned that one should pretty much feel guilty about just about everything. Thus I should feel guilty for traveling because I am therefore contributing to Global Warming and therefore I should get on my knees and say 50 Hail Mary’s every day for a year and never travel again! But the human mind is ever clever about finding ways to assuage guilt. At least mine is.

The Dude, Tom and I abide, lucky to be living where and when we can take adventures, grateful to live in a country where it is still legal to think, (as of this writing). We’re thankful to be wealthy enough and healthy enough to bum around as well as sometimes make attempts to be part of the solution to little if not big problems. Most of all we are glad to have each other, and to have friends and family like you, gentle reader, to visit and to impose this narrative upon. Thanks for following along.

May the really bad stuff not hit your fan in the days to come.

PS about The Dude. To the regret of his many friends and family, The Dude went to his reward after a brief bout with cancer in the summer of 2009. Always the adventurer, he died smelling faintly of skunk. He was the best dog ever. I will always miss his head on my knee when I drive.

-- Micky