The Striking Mucho Lake, Big Bison, and a Sign Forest… The Alaska Highway Series

March 5, 2018March 5, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 38 Comments

Striking hardly describes Muncho Lake in British Columbia with its striking topaz waters and reflections of the surrounding mountains. The lake reaches a depth of 732 feet (223 m).

My Wednesday photographic essay will continue to take us up the fabled Alaska Highway. Last Wednesday we travelled from Dawson Creek to Toad River. I featured views along the way, the building of the highway during World War II, Stone Mountain Sheep, and some very busy beavers. Today we will travel from Toad River to Watson Lake in the Yukon Territory, a distance of 201 miles (324 K). Along the way we will visit the striking Mucho Lake, check out the large woodland bison that hang out beside the road, and view a few of the 70,000 town and city signs that have made their way to Watson Lake’s huge sign forest.

After leaving Toad River Lodge and our visit with the busy beavers, we were treated to a view of the Toad River that parallels the road.

And this view.

We would stop to admire Muncho Lake both on our journey north to Alaska and on our trip back south. We were heading north when we caught this photo. (Note: all photographs in this series are taken by Peggy and me.)

We captured this view on our return trip down the Alaska Highway.

As well as this photo.

Here’s a common sight along the highway: road construction. Tough winters and permafrost pretty much guarantee employment for road workers.

And here we go again, making our way through yet another construction project. Chipped windshields and damaged tires are common. We experienced both. We saw a bear somewhere in here. It may be the black spot on the left (or not).

We also found this handsome fellow, another Stone Mountain sheep. What really got us excited, however…

Was this sign. We had entered the territory of the wood bison, also know as wood or mountain buffalo— as opposed to their cousins, the plains buffalo.

And they begin to appear shortly afterwards. This one has made himself a convenient wallow, that he will wallow around in to get rid of bugs.

These guys are big, with massive shoulders. They can weigh up to 2000 pounds (900 kilos), which make them the biggest land mammals in North America.

We saw them both alone and in herds. They seem to like the edge of the highway for both its grazing opportunity and ease of travel.

A pair of youngsters…

Here’s a sign to thrill the heart of the most jaded of travelers. Canada’s Yukon Territory is almost synonymous with remote and wild. I grew up listening to daring tales of Sargent Preston of the Yukon and his faithful dog King. “On King! On you huskies, on!”

Not far up the road from the Yukon border we came to Watson Lake with its Sign Forest of 77,000 signs from all over the world. If you wander around long enough, you might very well find a sign that was liberated from your hometown and placed here by someone traveling up the Alaska Highway.

The tradition was started during the building of the Alaska Highway in 1942 when a soldier, Carl K. Lindley was asked by his commanding officer to erect directional signposts. While at the job, he added a sign for his own town of Danville, Illinois. The rest is history!

The signs go on and on…

Peggy Mekemson at Watson Lake Sign Forest

I’ll close today’s post with a photo of Peggy to provide perspective on the height of the Sign Forest.

FRIDAY’S POST: A chapter from The Bush Devil Ate Sam, my book about my Peace Corps experience in the jungles of West Africa.

MONDAY’S POST: We continue our journey down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

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From Dawson Creek to Toad River… The Alaska Highway Series: Part II

February 28, 2018February 27, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 29 Comments

British Columbia view along Alaska Highway

There is a much natural beauty along the Alaska Highway and a lot of wilderness— millions of square miles, as far as the eye can see.

The Alaska Highway, or the Alcan highway as it was known at the time, was a hurry up project, rarely if ever matched as an engineering feat. World War II was raging. The Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor and were threatening to invade Alaska, which they did in 1942, landing on the outer most islands of the Aleutian Chain. The only way to counter the threat was to travel by ship through the North Pacific or fly in by air. The US and Canada came to a quick agreement: a 1700-mile road (2700 K) would be built between Dawson Creek BC and Delta Junction, Alaska. It was a colossal project.

Sub-zero freezing temperatures ruled during the winter and suffocating heat dominated in the summer. Along with the heat came hordes of mosquitos, black flies, no-see-ems and other biting, blood-sucking insects. Temperatures were so cold in the winter that fires would be lit under equipment to warm it up enough to operate. Muskeg sucked the same equipment down into the mud in the summer, sometimes swallowing it whole.

Team sinking in mud when building Alaska Highway

Whoa! Working conditions along the Alaska Highway were not optimal. (grin) (Museums along the Alaska Highway feature numerous photos reflecting the difficulties encountered in building the road.)

Bulldozer buried in mud while building the Alaska Highway

This is a ‘what do we do now,’ pose. (Museum photo.)

Building log bridge on the Alaska Highway

Bridges were made from logs. (Museum photo.)

Recruitment notice for workers on building the Alaska Highway

While not as clear as I would like, this recruitment notice is worth reading. They should have won a prize for ‘truth in advertising.’ (Museum photo.)

Lots of old equipment is also displayed along the highway.

Tow truck used on the Alaska Highway

Steam shovel used to build the Alaska Highway

Curt Mekemson standing on bulldozer used to build Alaska Highway

Here I am standing on one of the old bulldozers.

With the threat of an imminent invasion, there was no time to consider the usual niceties of road building. Some 11,000 soldiers and engineers, 16,000 civilians, and 7000 pieces of equipment were thrown at the epic undertaking. Airplanes flew out daily to help plan routes, ‘on the fly’ so to speak, while the men struggled under almost impossible conditions. Starting on March 2^nd, 1942, the project was completed on September 24^th, some eight months later.

It was rough, oh yes it was rough— steep, muddy roads, log bridges, trees laid down across muskeg 15-feet deep— but it was usable. At $140 million, it was the most expensive construction project of World War II.

A view of the old road on its completion. (Museum photo.)

And how much of it looks today.

The highway can still be a bit of a challenge, but not so much that 30-40 foot RVs aren’t seen in substantial numbers travelling north on it. For the most part, the road is paved except for construction work, which can seem to go on forever. And it is shorter, by some 300 miles!

Today, I will take you over the first 400 miles from Dawson Creek to the uniquely named Toad River. The thing about the scenery along the Alaska Highway is that it is all impressive, and the farther north you go the more impressive it becomes!

Mountains and forests rule along the highway…

Blue mountains along the Alaska Highway in British Columbia

Mountains stretching off into the distance.

An impressive cliff face.

View along Alaska Highway in British Columbia

Between ranges the road follows rivers, all of which had to be crossed when building the highway.

River along Alaska Highway

This is the Sikanni Chief River.

As was noted by this totem pole sign.

We were excited to see Stone Mountain, not only for its beauty but because there was a good chance we would see Stone Mountain Sheep.

We were not disappointed. The sheep had come down the mountain to eat the salt that had been washed off the road from the previous winter.

Being checked out by Stone Mountain sheep on Alaska Highway

They weren’t worried when we stopped, but they did check us out. Note the kids peeking out.

To say that they were cute…

Stone sheep kid at Stone Mountain along the Alaska Highway

Is a considerable understatement.

Not far up the road, we came to the Toad River Lodge, which is named after the Toad River. Roadhouses were common in the early days of the Alaska Highway and even up to the time when I first drove the road in 1986. It was hard to travel over more than a hundred miles a day on rough, unpaved roads. Many lodges are closed now, no longer needed.

Baseball caps at Toad River Lodge on Alaska Highway

The lodge was quite proud of its cap collection, some 7000 from all over the world. The name, so we were told, had derived from towed, not the warty frog. Before the Canadians and Americans had completed a bridge across the river in 1942, they had to be towed across it. So they named it the Towed River. Toad is much more creative.

This fellow was staring at us when we ate at the lodge.

Beaver dam near the Toad River along the Alaska Highway

We spent the night at lodge’s RV campground. This was the view from our campsite. It was obvious that beavers had been at work on building their own lodge.

Beaver dam and beaver along Alaska Highway

And we soon saw one of the lodge’s residents. Lower left. He/she was busy building a beaver dam to assure that their lodge continued to be prime, waterfront property.

Beaver Lodges and dam next to Toad River Lodge on Alaska Highway

A view of the dam, which was literally outside our door. The builders had certainly been ‘as busy as beavers.’

Beavers often work at night, so we were excited about having these chisel-toothed mammals continue their activity as we watched from a bench next to their lake.

Beaver pushing limb to Beaver Dam near Toad River Lodge

While they worked, for the most part, bringing limbs in from across the lake…

Beaver chewing on wood chip along Toad River

This didn’t stop them from stopping for an occasional snack from their dam building material! That’s it for the day… Next Wednesday, we will continue our journey up the Alaska Highway.

FRIDAY’S POST: MisAdventures finds me playing in the woods when I was growing up, a quick ten-minute walk from my home. While it may not have been wilderness, it was wilderness to me.

MONDAY’S POST: Peggy and I continue our journey down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

WEDNESDAY’S POST: We continue on our journey up the fabled Alaska Highway through Canada, reaching the Yukon Territory. A strikingly beautiful lake, big bison, and a sign forest of 70,000 signs are featured.

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Dogs and Dragons in British Columbia… The Alaska Highway Series

February 21, 2018February 20, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 31 Comments

The small town of Hope in southern British Columbia features this view of the Fraser River.

Adventure travel and the 1400-mile Alaska Highway go together like biscuits and gravy. I’ve driven it five times, once by myself in 1986 when I left Alaska to return to California and two round trips with Peggy since. The last time we traveled with our friends Bob and Linda Bray. Peggy and I were on our way up to visit our son and his family on Kodiak Island where Tony was working as a helicopter pilot flying rescue missions for the Coast Guard. Bob and Linda were going to join a nephew fishing for halibut.

Bob Bray and I have been friends since he looked like this…

While driving the highway isn’t the challenge that it once was, it still gives travelers a taste of the Far North. Over the next few weeks I’ll take you over the highway from Dawson Creek, British Columbia to Anchorage Alaska as part of my Wednesday photo essays. Today, however, we have to get to Dawson Creek. There are various ways to reach the starting point but out last trip took us from Hope, British Columbia up through Prince George, which is the route we will follow today.

Alexandra Suspension Bridge across Fraser River

We followed Canada’s Highway 1/97 out of Hope following the Fraser River. One of our first stops was to admire the old Alexandra Suspension Bridge across the river. It’s a beauty that is no longer used.

Another perspective on the Alexandra Bridge.

Looking down through the grates at the Fraser River!

World's largest cross country skis, 100 mile house, BC

The Visitor Information Center at the 100-mile house featured the world’s largest cross-country skis! Communities throughout Canada use such fun gimmicks to capture the attention of tourists.

I am a fan of tourist information centers in British Columbia. In addition to being chock-full of information and friendly people, they are often beautifully done, like this example in William’s Lake.

This car in the William’s Lake Visitor Center was a spoof on how much stuff tourists load on top of their cars.

Hanging baskets of petunias were featured outside. While such baskets are common now, I first became familiar with them on a trip to British Columbia in the late 60s.

Peggy kayaking on Dragon Lake, Quesnel, BC

We stopped at an attractive campground on Dragon Lake in Quesnel where Peggy went kayaking to celebrate her birthday.

A closer look.

Ducklings on Dragon Lake near Quesnel, BC

Peggy’s Birthday Parade

Weaving dog agility trials in Quesnel, BC

The next morning, we found the campground had gone to the dogs. We were in the middle of dog agility competition. This little fellow was weaving between posts.

Dog agility trials, jumping in Quesnel, BC

Size didn’t matter in the trials. These bars were lowered for the little fellow shown above.

Dog agility trials in Quesnel, BC tunnel

Dogs are required to maneuver through a number of different obstacles including tunnels. The clock is ticking.

Dog agility trials, across bridge in Quesnel, BC

Watching the owners was as fun as watching the dogs. The woman in pink is urging her dog along. The man running along behind is the judge.

The country changes as you move into the interior of British Columbia, becoming drier.

Rivers have always served as access to the interior, first for river travel and then for building railroads and roads along.

Wood carving of Praying Mantis at Chetwyn, BC

We were in for a real treat when we came to the town of Chetwynd, which is close to Dawson Creek. Wood carvers had been at work in an international competition. This praying mantis had taken first prize but it had a lot of competition!

Pumpkin scarecrow wood carving at Chetwynd

Such as this scary pumpkin head scare crow…

And this dragon with an attitude. Or…

…a bas-relief of St. George slaying a dragon.

Or this old gold miner apparently telling you to stay out of his claim.

I am not sure what this fellow is up to but I wouldn’t want to meet him on a dark night— or in the middle of the day.

And then we made it to Dawson Creek and mile 0 of the Alaska Highway. Bob, Linda and Sister.

Sign at Beginning of Alaska Highway in Dawson Creek

Peggy and I. Next Wednesday, we begin our trip up the Alaska Highway.

FRIDAY’S POST: Another in the MisAdventures series. I abandon the Graveyard for the Pond.

MONDAY’S POST: Rafting down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

WEDNESDAY’S POST: We begin our journey up the Alaska Highway.

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Good Monkey; Bad Monkey… A Visit to an Eco-Tourist Lodge in the Amazon

February 14, 2018February 14, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 20 Comments

This spider monkey adopted Peggy. Here it gives Peggy a monkey hug. Later, Peggy wondered where all of her flea bites came from…

Monkey hug from the back.

“The war of the future will be between those who defend nature and those who destroy it. The Amazon will be in the eye of the hurricane. Scientists, politicians, and artists will land here to see what is being done to the forest.” —Jacques Cousteau

Cousteau’s statement to Dr. Francisco Bernardino inspired him to erect the Ariau Amazon Tower Lodge in the mid 80s to accommodate the expected influx of ‘artists, scientists and politicians,’ which it did up until it was closed in 2015, attracting such luminaries as Bill Gates, Prince Charles and Jimmy Carter, not to mention the Mekemsons.

Since it was located a mere 30 miles outside of Manaus on the Rio Negro River, Peggy and I decided to visit. We ended up staying in the same room that Jimmy Carter had occupied. Today’s photo essay reflects our stay there and how we hung out with the monkeys…

The Ariau is located at number 3 on the map. We took a boat out of Manaus to get there.

This is a map of the complex with its long walkways that wander throughout the rainforest.

A view of the walkways. Peggy and I had a lot of fun hiking on them, whether we were accompanied by our monkey friends or not.

Peggy on one of the walkways in the tree canopy.

Another view.

Looking out at one of the sights along the walkway.

We arrived from Manaus on this double-decker boat.

You didn’t want to spend a lot of time thinking about the structure. I doubt that it would meet earthquake standards. Pickup sticks come to mind.

We stayed in the Jimmy Carter room. The eel reminded me of current politics. You don’t want to be a small fish.

Not to disparage Carter, who I really like, but I would have preferred to stay in the Tarzan suite shown here. It was nestled up in the top of a tall ebony tree.

Bone put in an appearance.

Wooly and Spider Monkeys were found around the lodge and out on the walkways. This Wooly Monkey was behaving how monkeys are supposed to behave, dangling by his tail from a tree.

And this one wasn’t. It isn’t my best photo. (grin) I was not happy about having a monkey for a hat!

When I suggested that he go play with an anaconda out in the jungle, he wrapped his tail around my arm and treated me to this view.

And then gave me the evil monkey look…

Before threatening to take a chunk out of my hand.

Peggy got the good monkey. Given its heart-shaped face and adoring look, this seems an appropriate time to wish everyone a Happy Valentines Day!

I will note that the spider monkey had an impressive set of choppers.

When Peggy sat down, it settled into her lap and hammed it up for the camera..

Before deciding to take a nap.

Spider monkey on Peggy's lap

I decided its feet and our “Travelers’ Tales of Brazil” would make a fitting photo to close my posts on the Amazon.

FRIDAY’S POST: I learn about cross-cultural relations as a second-grader— on a queen sized bed.

MONDAY’S POST: We finally start to make our way down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon while fighting a strong headwind.

WEDNESDAY’S Photo Essay POST: Peggy and I begin a trip up the Alaska-Canada Highway, one of the world’s premier adventure-travel roads.

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The One, the Only, the Interview with Bone….

February 11, 2018February 10, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 25 Comments

Bone has been in many tough situations in his life; he can handle tough questions. Here he rests on top of a saguaro cactus in Arizona looking for border patrol agents. His lack of official papers, or even a birth certificate, can cause problems at times. President Trump has yet to tweet about him, however.

One of the more recent followers of this post, Gunta, was doing an Internet search on Tom Lovering a week or so ago when she came across this interview that Bone did— and laughed a lot. Again, many of you will have read this interview, but I am reposting it on behalf of the new folks who have joined my blog in the past year.

Q: Do you really talk? We’re speaking ethics here, Bone. Blogging is about transparency. That means honesty.

A. Are you crazy? Have you ever heard a bone talk? Of course I don’t talk. I just think out loud.

Q: Curt sometimes refers to you as he. Does this mean you are a male bone?

A. No. He makes assumptions, lot of them. He was showing me to a biologist at a writers’ conference and she suggested I have my DNA tested. “Just cut a small chip off of it,” she said nonchalantly. “You can determine its sex and breed.”

“Just cut a small chip off of it!” Outrageous! I am not some it to have chips cut out of. Besides, I lead a rich fantasy life and have no desire to know whether I am male or female. Call me she, he, or Bone, but never it.

Um, I think Bone is definitely a male in this photo. –Curt

Q: You have travelled all over the world and met thousands of people. How do they usually react to you?

A. With befuddlement. You should have seen the look on the face of the customs agent in New Zealand who tried to seize me as ‘animal matter.’ But emotions run the gamut. There was a Japanese man who got off a tour bus at Yellowstone National Park and wanted to hold me for good luck. Soon there were 40 other Japanese handing me around, oohing, and taking photos. I was thrilled. On the opposite side, I know a woman who refuses to touch me, like I have cooties. “I don’t know where Bone has been,” she states primly. Not surprisingly, there is also jealousy. “I want to be you and travel the world,” a good friend in Sacramento told me.

Some people act like I have cooties. This woman almost dropped me and then washed her hands! –Bone

Her daughter, on the other hand, so to speak, understands proper bone etiquette and respect. –Bone

Q: What is your favorite thing to do?

A. Visit graveyards; there are lots of old bones there. My favorite grave is Smokey Bear’s in Capitan, New Mexico. I once stood on his tombstone for ten minutes trying to communicate but all I could get was something about ‘growling and a prowling and a sniffing the air.’ A close second is the grave of Calamity Jane in Deadwood, South Dakota. What a woman! These are difficult choices, though, when you toss in the likes of Hemingway, Daniel Boone and Billy the Kid. On the light side I once visited Ben and Jerry’s graveyard of discarded ice cream flavors in Vermont. My spookiest experience was a visit to the Capela dos Ossos, the Chapel of Bones, in Evora, Portugal. Those folks definitely have a skeleton in their closet, lots of them.

Bone has a special fondness for unusual graves. Here he hangs out with Billy the Kid in New Mexico. Has he been in a shoot out? Is that blood on his vest?

Q: So, what’s your second most favorite?

A. Too hard; I am a dilettante dabbler, but here are a few.

Wandering, of course, anywhere and everywhere and by all modes: bikes, kayaks, rafts, skis, backpacks, sailboats, planes, helicopters, trains, cars, RVs, etc.
Visiting wild, remote and beautiful natural areas. I started life wandering the Sierra Nevada Mountains, John Muir’s Range of Light.
Seeking out the strange such as ghosts and aliens (I’ve been to Roswell four times).
Attending unique events like Burning Man but I also have a fondness for any type of fair.
Meeting weird people like Tom.

Bone backpacking on the John Muir Trail.

Tom being eaten by a bony desert monster.

Q: Speaking of Tom, he and Curt ‘discovered’ you in 1977 and you have wandered extensively with both. Which do you like best?

A. Eeyore, the jackass who can’t keep track of his tail. We’re traveling companions and he saved me from being strung up and buried on Boothill in Tombstone, Arizona. I’d robbed a bank, cheated at cards and hung out with women of questionable character. (This is what I mean by having a rich fantasy life. It’s also known as evasion.)

“I was in deep trouble in Tombstone. Wyatt Earp had arrested me for robbing a bank and Doc Holiday was checking me for weapons.”

“My life as Bone was in serious jeopardy.”

“Odds were I was going to end up on Boothill, along with Billy Clanton.”

“But then the ever brave Eeyore came to my rescue! I hopped on his back and we went riding off into the sunset while leaping over large rocks.”

Q: Which of your journeys has been most memorable?

A. I would have to say traveling the length of Africa in the back of a truck from the Sahara Desert in the north to Cape Town in the south. Almost falling off the back of a riverboat into a piranha infested section of the Amazon River would have to be a close second. I was perched on the back railing doing a photo shoot. And then, of course, there was the 10,000-mile bike trip.

“I was much smarter when I rafted down the Colorado. I wore a life jacket!”

“That didn’t protect me from pirates. The dreaded pirate Steve held a knife to my throat and demanded to know where I buried my treasure.”

Q: You are often seen scrambling over rocks in remote sections of the Southwestern United States. What’s that all about?

A. I’ve developed a fondness for Native American Rock art. It resonates with my bone-like nature. It’s also another excuse to go wandering around in the outdoors. Plus, some those places might be haunted and it is a great place to look for UFOs. Some of the petroglyphs look amazingly like aliens. Finally, wandering in the desert is known to be good for the soul. Ask the Prophets of yore.

“How can this guy and his strange dog not be aliens?”

“Here I am making tracks across White Sands National Monument in New Mexico. It’s a great place to watch out for UFOs.”

Q: Ah, being a born-again bone, do you have any insights into the great unknown?

A. Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

Q: Finally, and this may be a little sensitive, but do you always run around naked?

A. What kind of a question is that? Do you think I am uncivilized? For shame. I am the epitome of haute couture! A bow and arrow toting, card-carrying NRA member in Montana has designed and made me two leather vests. What’s more, an 80 plus year old woman in Kansas going on 20 with a crush on Johnny Depp and a room devoted to the Egyptian gods has made me a kilt and several other outfits. Then there is the horse woman actress in Ohio whose husband is an ex-secret service agent who has promised me an outfit and the artist head of a PR firm in the Bahamas who has promised me another. Face it; I am hot stuff, clothed or naked. I may take up a modeling career.

Rod Hilton fashions a new leather vest for bone.

“My Bahamian/Canadian friend makes me a new vest in the wilds of Montana.”

Bone, wearing his newly made kilt, fights off a ferocious sea monster in a scene straight out of ‘Pirates of the Caribbean.’

MONDAY’S POST: Back to the Grand Canyon.

The History of the Bone… Forty Years and Still Wandering

February 10, 2018August 31, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 17 Comments

Bone has travelled twice to the base of Mt. Everest.

Since Bone played a prominent role in our raft trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon, I decided to republish his history and an interview he did. This is mainly for the folks who follow my blog and aren’t familiar with his exploits. Many of you will have read today and tomorrow’s posts.

Sometime in the 1900s Bone started his life as part of a horse wandering through the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The horse was allegedly eaten by a bear. Bone ended up in a high mountain meadow practicing Zen and being nibbled on by a miscreant rodent.

1977: He was ‘discovered’ by two lost backpackers (Curt Mekemson and Tom Lovering) on the Tahoe Yosemite Trail above Lake Tahoe and launched his career of wandering the world.

Normally, Bone likes to hang out in our library at home. His favorite section is travel.

He also has a fondness for George, the Bush Devil who is on the cover of my book, “The Bush Devil Ate Sam.” Here, the two of them share a laugh.

1980-81: Bone commenced his first World Tour with Tom. He visited Asia including Japan, Hong Kong, Bombay, Delhi and Katmandu where he trekked to the base of Mt. Everest. He then wandered on to spend spring and summer in Europe stopping off in Greece, Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, Austria, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Germany, Belgium, England and Ireland. Getting cold, Bone headed south and hitched a ride in back of a truck through Algeria, Niger, Chad, Nigeria, Cameroon, Central African Republic, Zaire, Sudan, Kenya (where he crossed the Equator), Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa. He signed on with Tom as crew of a sailboat in Cape Town and headed north to Mallorca, stopping off on the islands of St. Helena, Ascension, Cape Verde and Madeira. Back in Europe he explored his possible Viking roots in Sweden, Norway and Finland.

1983-86: Bone assumed Cheechako status and moved to Alaska with Curt where he was stalked by a grizzly bear on the Kenai Peninsula, explored Prince William Sound by kayak, learned to winter camp in 30 degree below zero weather while listening to wolves howl, backpacked in the Brooks Range north of the Arctic Circle, and discussed the finer points of eating salmon with Great Brown Bears in Katmai National Park. He escaped briefly to the warmer climate of Hawaii and participated in New Orleans Mardi Gras.

One look at this fellow and Bone decided that he wanted to be elsewhere.

Alaska Brown Bear playing with moose bone.

The big guy was playing with a distant cousin of his.

1986: He backpacked the Western US for five months with Curt exploring the Grand Canyon, the Gila Wilderness of New Mexico, the Rockies, and the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming before returning to his beloved Sierras.

1989: Bone went on a six month 10,000-mile solo bike tour with Curt around North America visiting 18 states and 4 Canadian provinces. He ended his journey by meeting Peggy.

In the spring of 1989 I left Sacramento on my bike for a 10,000 mile solo trip around North America. Everything I would need to survive for six months on the road was packed on my bike, some 60 pounds of gear. It wasn’t totally solo. Bone was riding in my handle bar bag.

1990: The International Society of the BONE was formed at Senior Frogs in Mazatlan, Mexico, where Bone spent the afternoon being pickled in a pitcher of margaritas and being kissed by lovely senoritas.

1991-97: Various members of International Society accompanied Bone on numerous adventures. Highlights included a White House Press Conference with Bill Clinton, being blessed by the Pope in St. Peter’s Square, visiting with Michelangelo’s David, going deep-sea diving in the South Pacific and Caribbean, doing a Jane Austin tour of England, and exploring the Yucatan Peninsula. A group adopted him as a good luck charm and took him back to visit the base of Mt. Everest one year and to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro another.

Bone loves high places. Here he is on top of Mt. Kilimanjaro in East Africa. (He’s with MJ, fourth from right, standing.)

Bone went diving in the Pacific in 1997 with Jose and Barbara Kirchner, visiting a Japanese ship sunk during World War II and receiving his diving certificate.

1998-99: Bone embarked on 40,000-mile journey in the van, Xanadu, through the US, Canada and Mexico with Peggy and Curt, visiting over 30 National Parks, driving the Alaska and Baja Highways, checking out Smokey the Bear’s and Calamity Jane’s graves, kayaking in the Sea of Cortez, leaf peeping in Vermont, jetting to the Bahamas, pursuing flying saucers in Roswell, New Mexico, and completing his visits to all 50 states, etc. etc. etc.

Bone was quite impressed with the size of his ancient relatives. Here he rests on dinosaur toes at the Dinosaur National Monument Visitor Center.

2000-02: Bone journeys up the Amazon, returns to Europe, cruises to Belize, Cancun and the Cayman’s, and goes to New Zealand where a misguided customs agent tries to arrest and jail him as animal matter.

Peggy and I found this mudstone concretion in New Zealand on a South Island beach. Bone, who likes strange things, insisted on having his photo taken with it.

2003: Bone undertakes a 360-mile backpack trip in celebration of his discovery and Curt’s 60th birthday. They begin at Squaw Valley near Lake Tahoe and end by climbing Mt. Whitney. Various friends join them along the way.

Bone got a little high when he helped me celebrate my 60th birthday, which isn’t surprising considering he is a California bone.

2004: Bone visits Hemingway’s grave in Idaho, goes horseback riding with Australians and Bahamians in Montana, and makes his first pilgrimage to Burning Man in Nevada, a very Bone like type of place. He also jets off to Costa Rica.

Bone has a love for anything ancient. Here, he perches on a Mayan sculpture in Costa Rica.

2005-2007: Bone returns to Burning Man twice and revisits Europe twice including special stopovers in Portugal, France, Holland, Germany, and Belgium. He also revisits Mexico.

2008 – 2011: Bone commences another exploration of North America. This time he travels in the van, Quivera, along with Curt, Peggy, and Eeyore the Jackass. His journey takes him over 75,000 miles of American Roads. In May of 2010 he helps Curt initiate his blog, and rafts 280 miles down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon.

2012-2017: Bone goes into semi-retirement in Southern Oregon. Please note the semi, however. He continues the exploration of the West Coast ranging from Big Sur to Vancouver Island, where he kayaks for a week in search of Killer Whales. He wanders through England and Scotland helping Curt find his roots and spends a week traveling by Canal Boat. Later, he returns to Europe again, traveling through the Mediterranean visiting Turkey, Santorini and other Greek Islands, Dubrovnik, Venice, Rome, Pompeii, Florence, and Barcelona. He returns to Burning Man several times. On one trip, he is married to the lovely Bonetta, who he met while exploring a swamp in Florida. Rumor has it that it was a shotgun wedding. This past year he traveled with Peggy and me on our 10,000 mile trip around North America retracing my bike route and with fellow blogger Crystal Truelove to visit with Native Americans of the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma.

Burning Man is one of Bone’s all-time favorite activities.

Bone and Big Nose Bonetta are married at Burning Man 2013. Bone’s kilt was made for him by an 80-plus year old woman from Kansas. Bonetta is wearing a designer wedding dress with very expensive plastic jewelry to match.

Bone got a wee bit jealous when I snuggled up to this mammoth of a bone when Peggy and I were re-visiting by van my 1999 10,000-mile bike trip last year.

TOMORROW’S POST: You won’t want to miss the interview with Bone!

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Up Close and Personal with Piranhas on the Amazon River… The Wednesday Photo Essay

February 7, 2018February 7, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 36 Comments

How do you take the hook out of a piranha’s mouth. Carefully! When one fell off the hook into the bottom of our boat and started flopping around and snapping its teeth, all feet immediately went up into the air.

It’s photo Wednesday and today I will be featuring a trip that Peggy and I took up the Amazon. It was the pre-digital age and the photos produced by our camera weren’t quite as clear as we produce now, but I felt we did a fair job of capturing our experience. Enjoy.

Whenever I think of the world’s great rivers, associations pop into my mind. The Mississippi immediately throws me back into early American history with Mark Twain and riverboats. The Nile takes me even further back in time to Ancient Egypt and pyramids. I think of Hindus plunging into frigid waters when I picture the Ganges. The Yangtze or Cháng Jiāng carries me off to the heart of China and the ‘mysterious East.’ The Danube makes me want to get up and slow-dance— thank you Strauss. And, I imagine exotic adventures when I think of the Congo or Niger. All of this relates to the fact that I am an incurable romantic fascinated with both history and adventure.

But nothing spells exotic for me like the Amazon. The river with its 1,100 tributaries provides a seemingly infinite number of opportunities to get lost. One could easily spend a lifetime exploring the river and unlocking the secrets of the massive rainforest the river and tropical rains supports. More than 20% of the world’s oxygen and fresh water comes from the region. And it is one of the world’s richest centers of biodiversity.

One third of the world’s birds, some 1500 species, can be found in the Amazon. This parrot stopped by for a visit. Every evening large numbers would fly between the trees in the forest canopy.

Curt Mekemson searching for wildlife on Amazon River

I spent a lot of time checking out the shores and canopy for birds and wildlife.

Our trips ashore introduced us to some of the more exotic insect life such as this parade of caterpillars that somehow reminded me of a dancing Kokopelli from Native American mythology. All that was lacking was his flute.

Kokopelli playing his flute as he appears on a drink coaster of ours. The girls were said to go crazy over him.

Peggy and my journey into the Amazon was tame as such adventures go. Still, we managed to work in a five-day river boat trip out of Manaus and a stay at a tree house lodge up in the rainforest canopy where we hung out with monkeys and slept in a bed that Jimmy Carter had once occupied. Our riverboat trip introduced us to the rainforest plus gave us a slight flavor of life on the river— including fishing for and eating piranhas. It was the law of the jungle: Eat or be eaten. (Grin)

On today’s photo essay, I will feature our river boat trip. Next week, we will hang out with the monkeys.

Amazon Clipper on tributary of Amazon River

Our boat, the Amazon Clipper, settled in for the night on the Rio Negro. Our crew would tie it off to trees in the rainforest.

View out window of river boat on the Amazon

The view out our port-side window.

A closer view of the boat. Six cabins provided space for passengers. The top deck served as an excellent viewing platform.

Peggy Mekemson assuming a Titanic pose on an Amazon riverboat

Peggy also used it for a Titanic-type pose. I would add that the deck made an excellent location for evening cocktails.

Our journey into the rainforest took us to the city of Manaus which is located at the confluence of the Amazon River and its tributary, the Rio Negro some 1000 miles above where the Amazon runs into the Atlantic Ocean.

Our riverboat journey would take us out of Manaus, up the Rio Negro River, through the numerous channels of the the Anavihanas, and to the community of Novo Airao. First, however, we boated down to the confluence of the Rio Negro and the Amazon near the # 319 marker where the dark waters of the Rio Negro meet the lighter waters of the Amazon. (Photo from Google Maps.)

They call it the ‘mixing of the water’ where the Rio Negro meets the Amazon.

The braided channels of the Anavihanas brought the rainforest in close to the boat.

Amazon Rainforest

Evening in the Anavihanas on the Rio Negro River

An evening view.

Bone with river boat pilot on Amazon River

Bone took his trick at the helm.

And then posed for a photo-op on the rear railing. It almost turned into a disaster as the boat sped up. I leapt up and just caught Bone as he started to fall into the piranha infested waters! I guess if you have to go…

Later, as I noted above, we took the boat’s skiff and went fishing for piranhas. These fellows made a tasty treat.

Peggy gave the piranhas their chance for revenge but no one bit. (The crew assured us that this section of the river was piranha free.)

Covered boat on Rio Negro River in Amazon Rainforest

We saw a number of small boats along the river…

Small boat on Rio Negro River in Brazil

House boat on Amazon

And houses.

We stopped here and went for a walk in the forest.

This fellow split open a Brazil nut with his machete and gave us all a taste.

Tree platform for hunting in the Amazon Rainforest

While another machete wielding man showed off a hunter’s platform.

Rubber trees provided the wealth that drove the development of Manaus in the 1800s. Rubber is made from the sap that comes from the cuts in the tree.

Igreja Santo Angelo - Novo Airao, Amazonas Brazil

The town of Novo Airao gave us a feel for how people lived in Brazil’s rainforest communities. This is the church of Igreja Santo Angelo.

We were amused by the cartoon characters that decorated what was probably a school.

This open market reminded me of the shops in Gbarnga, Liberia where I served as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

And this handsome dog reminded me of Do-Your-Part, the basenji that adopted me in Liberia.

Another typical town building.

We found this flower on a walk through the town…

And what I assumed was breadfruit.

The boats were on the waterfront of Nova Airao.

Peggy Mekemson sleeping on Amazon River boat.

While I could never break myself away from watching for birds, snakes and wildlife, Peggy found a comfortable place to snooze on our way back to Manaus.

Manaus is a bustling city. I liked the unique apartment house on the left, boxes stacked on top of each other and leaning slightly to the right.

Passenger boats are lined up along the waterfront to begin the thousand mile journey down to the ocean and points in between. Their schedule is that they leave when they are full!

I’ll close today’s post with a couple of photos of the sun setting on the Amazon.

Sunset on the Amazon

FRIDAY’S POST: Reading guarantees that I become a wanderer.

SATURDAY AND SUNDAY: Since Bone is traveling with us on our trip through the Grand Canyon, I introduce him/her to those of you who don’t know the small fellow with a huge personality and ego to match. Sunday’s post includes an interview.

MONDAY’S POST: I kick off our raft trip through the Grand Canyon with a fervent wish that I had spent more time getting in shape!

WEDNESDAY’S POST: Peggy and I continue our Amazon adventure with me ending up with a monkey on my head and Peggy with one in her lap.

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The Tragedy and Glory of Ancient Pompeii… The Wednesday Photo Essay

January 31, 2018January 31, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 53 Comments

A blanket of ash rushed down from Mt. Vesuvius on Pompeii in 79 CE, suffocating many of the city’s residents. Those who could escape, did. Those who didn’t were covered by a flow of molten rock the next day, preserving their bodies as they died in poses that can still be seen today.

It’s time for another Wednesday photo essay where I scroll through the 75,000+ photos that Peggy and I have taken from around the world and find something that catches my attention. Today it is Ancient Pompeii. Next Wednesday it will be Costa Rica.

Their lives would have been interrupted by a series of small tremors. It had to be worrisome; seventeen years earlier Pompeii had come close to being destroyed in a massive earthquake. The city was still being rebuilt. Possibly the residents woke on the morning of August 24, 79 CE and looked fearfully at the restless mountain that loomed over them— and then went on about their business.

Mt. Vesuvius still looms above Pompeii today. This is what it looks like from the Temple of Jupiter.

Another perspective.

Everything ended at 1:00 PM.

Mt. Vesuvius exploded in a massive eruption sending tons of ash, gas and rocks spewing 20 miles into the sky and forming a dense mushroom cloud. Winds quickly carried the ash into Pompeii, turning day into night and dreams into nightmares. The majority fled, escaping by whatever means available. Those who stayed behind died— suffocating at first under the blanket of thick ash and ultimately, the next morning, by being buried alive under a pyroclastic flow of molten rock and gas that flew down the mountain at speeds close to 100 miles per hour.

It must have been incredibly fast, and frightening.

You have to wonder if this person was simply asleep when it happened.

Viewed from an archeological perspective, history’s tragedy has become today’s blessing. The molten rock and ash that covered Pompeii, also preserved it, providing historians with their most complete view of what life was like in the ancient Roman Empire.

Buildings and streets in Pompeii are well-preserved. Ruts from vehicles using the roads can still be seen, as can road crossings.

Streets were cleaned by flooding them with water. People kept their feet dry by using these crossing stones.

Another street scene. Note how carefully the buildings had been aligned. The square box might have been a community water cistern.

Peggy and I were amused by its modern day equivalent where a faucet was added to the mouth of an early sculpture.

Public baths were a part of most Roman towns and cities. This one was decorated with a detailed relief…

Which included a father and child walking down stairs.

An inside view of the baths provides an idea of how luxurious the baths would have been. Remnants of murals that once covered the walls still remain.

Ceilings were decorated as well. This one shows bas-reliefs of people and animals.

Columns are another thing that most Roman towns shared. These set off a training school of gladiators, who were expected to go out and die for the greater glory of Rome, or to fight and possibly die to entertain Roman citizens. When I closed my eyes, I could almost hear the clashing of swords.

Looking up at one of the columns.

Close-up.

Peggy did a clever job of catching Jupiter with his hand seemingly wrapped around a column in his temple. The god was apparently traveling light that day.

Many of the buildings were remarkably preserved.

Others more closely resembled other Roman ruins found throughout the Mediterranean.

The Lupanar House of Pleasure or brothel is one of Pompeii’s best preserved buildings and our guide gave us a tour…

This was one of the beds. It would have been covered with a mattress, but still… The walls of the brothel included paintings that showed the various services available.

A meal out may have included stopping by this place. These were designed to hold prepared food and keep it hot. It strikes me as a fast food/takeout restaurant.

Bread was baked in this oven.

A large number of storage jars, such as these, were found in the city.

The large amphitheater would have accommodated most of Pompeii’s residents. The rich folks got the lower seats. Those not so fortunate, the upper ‘nosebleed’ seats.

Another street scene in Pompeii. Murals were included on the walls. There must have been a great deal of civic pride in the city.

A little girl and her dog…

And a modern resident of Pompeii.

I’ll conclude with this photo from the Mediterranean side of Pompeii. In 79 CE, the sea was only a couple of hundred yards away. Today it is a couple of miles. Those who had boats or access to boats would have been fleeing from here on that fateful August day, escaping the death that was raining down on their fair city.

FRIDAY’S POST: I determine it’s my job to rule the first grade but no one else seems to agree. Mrs. Young gives me a spanking for my effort.

MONDAY’S POST: It’s all about food on our river trip. And why did Homeland Security determine it was necessary to check our food boxes for a bomb?

WEDNESDAY’S POST: We leave Italy and the Mediterranean to venture off to the Amazon..

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Searching for Roots… A Photo Essay on Southwestern Scotland

January 10, 2018January 9, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 55 Comments

Peggy and I explored the southern and southwestern part of Scotland with its rolling hills and green, green pasture lands.

Today I am returning to the Wednesday photographic essay part of my blog. This time I will feature the southwestern area of Scotland with a few photos of Edinburgh thrown in. Peggy and I shared in taking the photographs.

Peggy, Jane, Jim and I wrapped up our narrowboat tour and then hopped on a train bound for Edinburgh, Scotland where we hung out together for a few more days before parting company. Jane and Jim returned to London while Peggy and I rented a car and headed out on a quest. I was eager to see some of the areas my ancestors had come from including the grave of a long dead Presbyterian martyr, John Brown, who had been shot down in the 1600s because he refused to recognize England’s king as God’s representative on earth. The Presbyterians were stubborn that way.

Edinburgh is an impressive city that is very easy to get lost in, or at least get lost trying to get out of!

Edinburg Scotland 1

Edinburg 3

Sir Walter Scott’s Memorial.

Edinburg 2

The Duke of Wellington.

The car rental place upgraded us to a Mercedes and wished us good luck on finding our way out of the city.

Is this woman determined or deranged? And is she really biting the steering wheel? I thought that she was a bit old for a teething ring.

We quickly discovered that there are a lot of sheep in Scotland— big woolly creatures. They like to stand in the middle of the road and refuse to move.

Sheep in Scotland 2

“My road!” Peggy and I were on a great detour (we were lost again) when we came on this sheep blocking the road. I thought I might have to get out of our car and pull a Crocodile Dundee on it. The red marking is to show ownership.

Smug.

Hungry. The great range wars of the Western United States between cattlemen and sheepmen in the 1800s were partially because sheep like to crop the grass so close to the ground.

This steer seems to agree about sheep.

And who knows what this wild Shetland was thinking? It may have thought we were good for an apple. Or maybe it was a reincarnated ancestor of mine trying to make contact…

We checked out several graveyards. I was, after all, searching for dead people.

These tombstones were so large they could have had books written on them. Wait, they did. Check out the light gray marker on the right.

Peggy demonstrates just how big the tombstones were. If I am correct in reading her body language, she is saying, “And how many more graveyards are we going to visit today, Curt? Don’t you realize it is raining and cold out here?” (Actually, Peggy is a great sport about visiting graveyards and this might have been one of her ancestors.)

The lonely grave of John Brown, the Presbyterian martyr, who would have been a great, great, great, great, great, grandfather of mine, or something like that. My story of John Brown and the Presbyterian Covenanters, as they were known, can be found here.

Castles were also on our itinerary. There are bunches in Scotland. Each lord wanted one to protect himself from the English— or his neighbor. One of my fifth cousins had assured me that the Mekemson family once owned a Scottish Castle, but it was north of Edinburgh.

Old castles are a feature of Scotland. They are well built, but a bit airy.

Scottish castle 2

Scottish castle 1

Here kitty, kitty, kitty. Wonderful whiskers. Nice bouquet.

I found a winsome wench in one. Oh wait, that was a fair maiden!

Most of our time was spent admiring the beautiful scenery and fun towns plus visiting with the warm and welcoming people of Scotland.

The River Nith in Dumfries.

Scottish broom

Scotch Broom was everywhere, adding its beautiful yellow to hillsides.

I am a fan of stone walls. Fences don’t get much classier! But imagine the work…

Speaking of moving rocks, these boulders were placed here several thousand years ago as part of a sacred site.

Small towns were colorful and clean. Kirkcolm was where my great-grandmother on the Thompson side was from. It’s where we met the Shetland.

And this might have been the home of her father.

A fun window with posies.

And a flower pot built into the front of a building to wrap up today’s post.

FRIDAY’S Blog-a-Book POST: The animal kingdom is kicked off my bed

MONDAY’S Travel Blog POST: A wrap up on the central coast of Washington

WEDNESDAY’S Photo Essay POST: The beauty of Sedona Arizona

Want a Small House— Think Narrowboat… A Trip on the Trent and Mersey Canal: Part 2

January 4, 2018 / Curt Mekemson / 39 Comments

Swan in black and white on Trent and Mersey Canal

Graceful swans share the Trent and Mersey Canal with narrowboats. I decided to render this fellow in black and white to emphasize its feathers and show how swans tuck their wings over their backs.

This is my second post on the Trent and Mersey Canal. My first post took us from Sawley to Burton upon Trent. In today’s post, Peggy and I, along with her sister and brother-in-law, Jane and Jim Hagedorn, visit Burton on Trent and return to Sawley.

Josiah Wedgewood’s concern about his pottery was a driving force behind the building of the Trent and Mersey Canal in the 1770s. Too many of his fine dishes were being broken when they were transported over the bumpy, rough roads of the time. A canal would provide for smooth sailing, or, at least smooth boating, and every industrialist wanted one to connect his plant with growing markets. For a brief period of time in the early industrial revolution, canals were the in-thing. Hundreds were built throughout England and Europe— as well as in the youthful United States.

This painting on the Jilly-Dee narrowboat spoke of earlier times on the canals when manufactured goods were carried on barges towed by horses and mules.

The painting reminded me of Erie Canal in New York state and one of the first songs I learned in elementary school. Here it is:

I’ve got a mule and her name is Sal
Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal
She’s a good old worker and a good old pal
Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal
We hauled some barges in our day
Filled with lumber, coal and hay
We know every inch of the way
From Albany to Buffalo

Low bridge, everybody down
Low bridge, we’re coming to a town
You’ll always know your neighbor
And you’ll always know your pal
If you ever navigated on the Erie Canal.

It was one of my favorite tunes, right up there with Old Dog Tray. I was particularly enamored with the idea of having a mule as a pal.

We passed under several low bridges during our trip, but none made us duck. Fortunately, our journey didn’t involve any of the long, low tunnels located on other parts of England’s canal system. I read that the earliest tunnel on the Trent and Mersey Canal was so low that the boatmen would lay down on their backs and push the boat through with their feet, using the top of the tunnel for leverage— for a mile! The mere thought of this sent claustrophobic twinges through my body!

“Low bridge, everybody down!”

Railroads and modern highways made canals obsolete for transporting goods and would have spelled their doom except for the interest of historians, hobbyists, and the recreational industry starting in the 1950s. Recreation is booming today and numerous people have also discovered that narrowboats can provide the ultimate in an inexpensive, small house lifestyle for those with a gypsy nature. Sounds good to me. Most of these homes are uniquely decorated and come with interesting names like Belly Button, Idunno, and In the Mood. Others, such as Nomad Dreams, Sacagawea, and Gone Roaming, suggested the wandering nature of their owners.

Belly Button narrowboat on Trent and Mersey Canal

Narrowboats that people use for homes are often gaily painted and uniquely named!

Narrow boat dog on barrel on Trent and Mercy Canal

One of the boats had this painted barrel sitting on top…

And then we spotted the model!

Peggy, Jim, Jane and I explored Burton upon Trent, spent the night, and then began our journey back on the Trent and Mersey Canal to the Sawley Marina. Once again, we enjoyed the challenge of piloting our 65-foot boat around obstacles and through locks, while appreciating the beauty and peace of the British countryside. Our most exciting moment was when Jim decided to park our boat up on the bank…

View near St. Pauls in Burton upon Trent

We wandered around admiring buildings in Burton.

Gargoyle on St. Paul's church in Burton on Trent

And found this gargoyle with its tongue sticking out at St. Paul’s Church.

Row houses and chimneys in Burton upon the Trent

Row houses, chimneys and threatening skies provided a photo-op…

Marston’s original brewery is located in Burton on Trent and has been a longterm mainstay of the city’s economy. I went onto Marston’s website and found this quote: “No Marston’s, no beer, no beer, no Burton.”

Of course beer wasn’t the only alcohol available…

Carved kingfisher sculpture with fish in Burton upon Trent

Walking back to the canal, we were reminded by this carved kingfisher of the birds that make the canal their home.

Including swans and their Canadian Geese cousins.

Mallard moves along on Trent and Mersey Canal

A mallard moved along on some important mission…

While a pair of swans decided to make babies.

Of which the mallards had already contributed a substantial number. There was no lack of baby ducks on our trip back…

Swan and narrowboats on Trent and Mersey Canal

Or swans.

Resting cattle along Trent and Mersey Canal

Cattle enjoyed a moment of sun…

Peggy Mekemson enjoying sunshine on Trent and Mersey Canal

As did Peggy!

Scenic view along Trent and Mersey Canal

We all continued to enjoy the scenery and serenity along the Trent and Mersey.

Including the buildings.

Narrowboat with rain cover on Trent and Mersey Canal

And other narrowboats. This boater had created a canvas pilot house as protection from the elements. There were occasions when we were envious.

Poling narrowboat off shore on Trent and Mersey Canal

Our progress was delayed when Jim decided to park us on the bank. That’s when we really learned just how heavy our boat was.

Double-wide lock on Trent and Mersey Canal

Locks continued to slow us down as well. This was a double-wide. Just barely.

When we spotted this steeple, we knew that we were close to home.

And thus we arrived.

Intrepid narrowboat crew in Burton on Trent and Mersey Canal

A final shot of Peggy, Jane, Jim and our moored boat.

SATURDAY’S POST: It’s back to blogging my book on MisAdventures. This time I hire the family pets to protect me from the dangerous ghosts that live in the graveyard next to my childhood home.

MONDAY’S POST: Peggy and I return to our before-Christmas adventure along Washington’s coast.

WEDNESDAY’S POST: A photograph essay on Scotland, which is where we went after our narrowboat trip.

Wandering through Time and Place

Exploring the world with Curtis and Peggy Mekemson

Wandering The World

The Striking Mucho Lake, Big Bison, and a Sign Forest… The Alaska Highway Series

From Dawson Creek to Toad River… The Alaska Highway Series: Part II

Dogs and Dragons in British Columbia… The Alaska Highway Series

Good Monkey; Bad Monkey… A Visit to an Eco-Tourist Lodge in the Amazon

The One, the Only, the Interview with Bone….

The History of the Bone… Forty Years and Still Wandering

Up Close and Personal with Piranhas on the Amazon River… The Wednesday Photo Essay

The Tragedy and Glory of Ancient Pompeii… The Wednesday Photo Essay

Searching for Roots… A Photo Essay on Southwestern Scotland

Want a Small House— Think Narrowboat… A Trip on the Trent and Mersey Canal: Part 2