Alaska’s Fur Rendezvous: From Outhouse Races to Sled Dogs

March 20, 2016March 20, 2016 / Curt Mekemson / 23 Comments

The strange looking creature here is a decorated outhouse that belongs to

The Fabulous Flying Duck Farts prepare their duck-billed entry for the Fur Rendezvous Outhouse Race in Anchorage Alaska. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The word Fur Rendezvous immediately brings to mind early American history, fur trading, and mountain men. One of the most renown/notorious of the rendezvous took place in the Green River region of Wyoming in the 1830s. After a long, lonely winter of trapping beavers and other fur-bearing mammals, the mountain men would gather on the Green River to meet with traders out of St. Louis who would purchase their winter harvest. There was lots of drinking, gambling, and snuggling up with accommodating women (for a fee)— which is pretty much what you might expect from barely civilized men who had spent the winter isolated in tiny cabins. I’ve visited the region and backpacked through the mountains where beavers were trapped. You can read about this adventure at: A Rabid Wolf Walked through Camp.

Alaska was a Johnny-come-lately to the fur rendezvous business, deciding to create its event in 1935. Alaska was still a raw frontier at the time, however. It wouldn’t have been much different from the Rocky Mountains a hundred years earlier. It was a wild place, and the people who chose to live there were a bit on the wild side. I would have fit right in.

The Fur Rendezvous in Anchorage, or Rondy as they call it today, has lost much of its mountain man edge. But it is still an excuse to party. And it had become a major tourist attraction. When I was there with Peggy, our son Tony and his family a few weeks ago, we attended four of its many events: sled dog races, a snow carving contest, the Rondy Parade, and the annual outhouse race. I’ve already written about the snow carving. My next blog will be on sled dogs. Today is all about porta potties and parades.

What’s not to like about an outhouse race, especially when one of the main contestants was the Fabulous Flying Duck Farts. Among its competitors were the Willow Fire Department, the Mormon Brigade, the AE club from the University of Alaska, and others. There was even a young woman being pushed in a shopping cart. Not even my fertile imagination could figure out how she fit in, but she was having fun. Both the Fabulous Flying Duck Farts and the AE club are involved in charitable activities. The jet propelled Duck Farts ended up winning, so I checked them out on Facebook. Here’s what they have to say about their organization:

“The Fabulous Flying Duck Farts are a forever funny fabulous formation flying flock of fast, furious, and friendly foul-fowl; a fine festival feature famous for flatulent fueled flight, frequent fierce flapping, faithfully finishing first, and frolicking feathery fun.”

That seems to sum it up.

And they are off! The Ducks’ jet propelled launch is shown on the side of the outhouse. Each entry required that a person be sitting on the “pot.”

The Mormon Battalion lacked the pizazz of the Flying Ducks. The child inside seems a little dubious about his role.

The Mormon Battalion lacked the pizzaz of the Flying Ducks. The child inside seems a little dubious about his job. The Battalion definitely earned points for its ragged roll of TP, however. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

These folks were having fun but any resemblance to a real outhouse is totally coincidental. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Judging from the look, I’d say that the Willow Fire Department provided serious competition. As the start and finish sign notes, the Architecture and Engineering club from the University of Alaska hosted the event. AE uses funds it raises to support Habitat for Humanity. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The Rondy Parade had it all, starting with princesses, lots of princesses. There were also kids, dogs, old cars, older tractors, horses, a reindeer, white bread, M&M’s, Hells Angels, and a very large colon. The only thing missing was a band. I’ve never seen a major parade without a band. In fact, the only parade I’ve ever seen without a band was the Buncom Day parade near where we live in Oregon. It goes one block, turns around and repeats itself. And even it had first graders blowing kazoos. Still, the Rondy Parade entertained us well.

The Rondy Parade must have featured 15 or so princesses and queens. At least it seemed like it. The parade announcer joked all you need is a tiara. This young woman stopped by for a visit.

This ‘pumpkin-like’ float pulled by a handsome black horse was one of several conveyances that transported princesses. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Star the Reindeer lives on a lot in downtown Anchorage. I think there is a requirement that he participate in all Anchorage parades.

Naturally, a good parade deserves at least one clown. I suspect more that one child had nightmares that night.

Naturally, a good parade deserves at least one clown. I suspect more that several children had clown nightmares that night.

The white bread wasn’t nearly as scary unless you thought about its food value.

Bernese Mountain Dogs were out in force at the parade.

This Bernese Mountain Dog stopped by for a sniff.

One pup pulling a cart stopped by for a sniff.

I think these M&Ms had a Methodist Flavor.

I think these M&Ms represented the local Methodists.

This Hell's Angel participant brought a slightly different flavor to the parade.

In contrast, here is a Hell’s Angel participant.

Apparently, this is the latest in macho tricks by four-wheel vehicles. It brings a whole new connotation to ‘mounting a tire.’

There were a number of old cars in the parade. The chains were hardly required on Anchorage’s globally warmed streets.

There were old trucks…

Old tractor featured in 2016 Fur Rondy Parade in Anchorage, AK.

And old tractors.

I recognize that this large colon had an important message. But I can't help myself; it was strange. And what in the heck were the folks dressed up inside supposed to be? There is no way I would dress up and be a whatever in a colon. I'll leave you with this image for my post.

And one very large colon. I recognize that it had an important message. But I can’t help myself; it was just strange. And here’s a probing question: what in the heck were the folks dressed up inside supposed to be? There is no way I would dress up and be a whatever in a colon. I’ll leave you with this last image for today. Don’t forget your checkup. NEXT BLOG: Sled dogs.

More Alaska Ice and Snow Art! Anchorage, Fairbanks and Chena Hot Springs

March 15, 2016March 15, 2016 / Curt Mekemson / 27 Comments

Alaska snow sculpture at Fur Rendezvous 2016

While the sun had obviously impacted this snow sculpture of a native Alaskan, I felt it carried a certain power. It reminded me of the fate of so many Native Americans, fading away while continuing to struggle for existence, possibly even regaining some of their lost heritage.

Alaskans believe in global warming. “It’s only snowed here twice this winter,” my friend Nancy Babb Stone groused when Peggy and I joined her and her husband Bart for dinner at their home in Anchorage. Many years earlier Nancy and I had taken a small, sleepy non-profit and turned it into a major player on health and environmental issues in Alaska. It was great to see her again. We spent a fair amount of time reminiscing.

The winter, or lack thereof, was cutting seriously into Nancy and Bart’s winter sports activities they told us. It was also melting the snow at the Fur Rendezvous’ snow carving contest. Peggy and I, along with our son Tony and his family, had been there twice to check out the sculptures. I was afraid if we looked away for a few minutes they might dissolve into large puddles of water. Even in their semi-melted forms the snow sculptures were fun, however. I was particularly attracted to the snow monsters.

City destroying snow sculpture monster at 2016 Fur Rendezvous snow carving contest.

This city destroying nightmare reminded me of a Japanese radiation-enhanced movie monster from the 1960s.

Calvin and Hobbes snow monster at 2016 Fur Rendezvous in Anchorage, Alaska

I looked at this huge mouth ready to consume a screaming snowman and something clicked in the back of my mind. I had seen this monster before…

This cartoon at the side of the sculpture confirmed my suspicion. Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes was a master at creating snow monsters.

Thankfully, it was colder at the World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks. As I mentioned in my posts on the competition, the ice park also included a kids’ play area and the pond where the ice for carving is located. The carvers have nicknamed the pristine blue ice that comes out of the pond, Arctic Diamond.

It wasn’t the purity of the ice that captured the attention of our 3, 5, and 7-year old grandsons, however. It was the fact that the park was full of ice slides, things to crawl on, over and into, and fun ice sculptures. The kids couldn’t get enough. They were given special permission to stay up late. We shut down the park. “Would you like us to leave lights on for you?” a park attendant asked at 10:30 p.m.— and was serious. I really couldn’t imagine that happening anywhere other than Alaska.

Ice steam engine at the Kid's Ice Park in Fairbanks, Alaska 2016.

A favorite of mine at the ice park. Note the ice smoke! The boys were exploring the rail cars.

Ice sculptures, such as this train carved out of ice, are lit up at night at the Fairbanks Ice Park.

The train lit up at night.

Tony and sons come barreling off one of the slick ice slides on a plastic sled peggy bought for the purpose. Yahoo!

Tony, Connor, and Cooper come barreling off a slick ice slide on a plastic sled Peggy bought for the purpose. Yahoo! The kids survived the day and night; the sled didn’t.

Granson Chris and I tackle another slide at night, without the sled.

Grandson Chris and I tackle another slide, this time at night and without the sled. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The slides could be quite bumpy and Peggy had just slid over a large one. Ouch! Our daughter-in-law Cammie had loaned her the "marshmallow" jacket.

The slides could be quite bumpy and Peggy had just slid over a large one. Ouch! Our daughter-in-law Cammie had loaned her the fluffy but warm “marshmallow” jacket that made her look a bit like a sumo wrestler.

Another slide was connected with this dragon assaulting a castle.

This mammoth lit up at night fronted for another slide.

And this wooly mammoth as well.

I really liked this snake dragon…

And this whale.

Peggy and I have always wanted a log cabin. But this one may be a little cold! (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Our furthest north adventure was at Chena Hot Springs, about an hour from Fairbanks. We spent two nights there, and, I wish to report, it was ‘put on all your spare clothes’ cold, dropping to a minus 10˙ F at night. Our adventures in ice carving continued at the Aurora Ice Museum, home to Steve Brice, 15-time world ice carving champion, and his wife Heather Brice, six-time world ice carving champion. Both had participated in the Fairbanks competition.

The road to Chena Hot Springs. I kept looking for moose. There were plenty of tracks but I didn’t spot one.

Dinner and service at the rustic Chena Hot Springs Lodge were excellent. Here the family wishes me a happy birthday. “Are you really that old, Grandpa!?”

Our exploration of ice art continued at the Aurora Ice Museum.

This fish with its huge lips was amusing.

This carved ice fish with its huge lips was amusing. Pucker up.

I thought this carved ice head of a seahorse was rather elegant.

Here we are toasting out of carved ice glasses at a bar made out of ice, while sitting on ice chairs. We had hoped to be toasting Tony's appointment as a commander at the US Naval Academy in Connecticut. He did receive the appointment, but not until after we had returned to Oregon.

Here we are toasting out of carved ice glasses at a bar made out of ice, while sitting on ice chairs (fortunately fur covered). We had hoped to be toasting Tony’s appointment as Company Officer for cadets interested in aviation at the US Naval Academy in Connecticut. He did receive the appointment, but not until after we had returned to Oregon.

Chena had great food and friendly people, but the lodging left a little to be desired, especially for the $200 a night price tag. I’d go with second-hand shabby as a description of our room, which they never got around to cleaning at the end of our first day. I could have lived with this except for the lack of sound-proofing.

Whenever anyone came in or went out the door banged. If they lived upstairs, the banging was followed by a mini-earthquake clomp, clomp, clomp. Again, it would have been tolerable had it stopped, say around ten. But on our second night, it went on and on— until one a.m. The lovely Peggy slept through it. I got out my sound maker and turned it on high. No luck: slam clomp, clomp, clomp! I put the sound maker three inches away from my ear: slam, clomp, clomp, clomp! I put a pillow over my head: slam, clomp, clomp, clomp! every 15 minutes, like clock work. I begin to contemplate doing things that a peace-loving guy like me doesn’t do. I begin to hallucinate. Our hotel was drug central for Alaska and people were carefully scheduled to pick up their illegal stash every 15 minutes to avoid running into each other.

The next day a friend suggested another possibility. It was a cross-cultural lesson. Chena Hot Springs occasionally provides views of the Aurora Borealis. Asians, and particularly Japanese, so I was told, believe that a child conceived under the Northern Lights will have great gifts. Our hotel was pretty much packed with people traveling from Asia. What if every 15 minutes or so, one of the husbands would go outside and check to see if the sky was dancing while his wife waited patiently for the great moment? Had I known that, I would have sat in my doorway and wished the guys good luck!

NEXT BLOG: Queens, dogs, and a very large colon in the Fur Rendezvous Parade— and an exciting Outhouse Race.

The Word Ice Art Championships… On the Road to the Olympics

March 12, 2016 / Curt Mekemson / 35 Comments

"Ancient Fish" at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska

The detail in the “Ancient Fish” or coelacanths, earned it top billing on my post today.

Aaron Costic had a dream. He wanted to become a chef. His skills at ice carving were so impressive, however, his instructor encouraged him to participate in ice sculpture competitions. His skills brought him to the World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks and then on to winning a gold medal in the Winter Olympics at Torino, Italy in 2006. This year he and his team-mate carved “Concentration” in Fairbanks, the sculpture I featured in my first blog on the competition.

Participation in the Winter Olympics speaks to the popularity of ice carving. It isn’t considered a sport at the Olympics but is seen as a Cultural Olympiad event. The first competition was at the Calgary Winter Games in 1988. On years when the Winter Olympics are held, the World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks is considered a qualifying event.

Many of the best ice carvers in the world come to Fairbanks. The art I have included in this series certainly speaks to the talent of the carvers. It was exciting to be at the competition. I only wish I could have been there to see the sculptures lit up with colored lights. Even more, I wish I could have been in Fairbanks for the multi-block competition. Ice Alaska – Facebook includes photos of both if you are interested.

Today I am going to wrap up my photos of the 2016 World Ice Art Championships. In my next blog I will look at the Children’s Ice Park in Fairbanks, the Aurora Ice Carving Museum in Chena Hot Springs, and the snow carving contest connected to the Fur Rendezvous in Anchorage. In other words, I am not quite done with ice art!

"Don't Leave Me Now" Ice Sculpture at the 2016 Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

Ice Carvers from Thailand (Is there ice in Thailand?) put the finishing touches on their graceful sculpture titled “Don’t Leave Me Now.”

"Don't leave me now" ice sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska

“Don’t Leave Me Now” lit up by white lights on the night of the ice sculpture judging.

"First Breath" ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

This beautiful sculpture reflecting the sky was called First Breath. It would have been an icy one.

"First Breath" ice carving sculpture at 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

“First Breath” ice sculpture lit up at night.

"6 H" ice carving sculpture at 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

Dean De Marais uses his chainsaw to put finishing touches on the ice sculpture known as H^2.

"H^2" ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

H^2 prepares for takeoff at night. Or maybe it is landing.

"Son of Sun" ice carving sculpture at 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska

“Son of Sun” was created by carvers from China.

"Son of Sun" ice carving sculpture at 2016 World Ice Art Championships.

“Son of Sun” at night

King Fisher ice carving sculpture at 2016 Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

A fisherman displays his prime catch in “Kingfisher.”

The model that “Kingfisher” was based on.

"Snapped" ice carving sculpture at 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

There was quite a set of chompers on this fellow titled “Snapped.” I’d give him a wide berth. But there was another reason for his wide open jaws besides hunger…

"Snapped" ice carving sculpture at night at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska

A snapping turtle had him by the tail!

" Mission on Mars" ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

A futuristic “Mission on Mars.”

"Destinee" ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

Two carvers from France created “Destinee.”

Renewed Embodiment ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fair banks, Alaska.

A carver adds a touch of color to this huge bear titled “Renewed Embodiment.”

" Star Gazing" moose ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Carving Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

Where there are huge bears, there are likely to be moose. His title: “Stargazing.”

"Hard to Handle" ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

The title to this sculpture, “Hard to Handle,” seems something of an understatement.

This boy seems to have hooked into a whopper! It is my last photo for the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks.

The 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska… Part II: The Artists

March 10, 2016 / Curt Mekemson / 30 Comments

Anne Marie Tabardo takes a break from carving “Alice” at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks.

Anne Marie Tabardo looked up from carving Alice with a smile that was guaranteed to melt an icy heart, or cold art for that matter. A collection of ice carving chisels rested on the ground next to her. A seriously long one was poised in her hand. It was obvious that she was having fun with her sculpture. A tall tree of ice towered over her and the diminutive Alice, who was apparently ready to dive into the rabbit hole. Off to the right were what looked suspiciously like fly agaric: magic mushrooms. I suspect they are quite common in the land of hookah smoking caterpillars. I wondered if the judges would give Anne an A for authenticity, or even recognize the mushrooms.

Alice ice sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

Alice, the tree, and magic mushrooms. Had the mushrooms been real and available, some people may have spotted a white rabbit with a pocket watch as well.

Ice Art Sculpture "Alice" at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska

Tree limbs looking like fingers added to the Wonderland feel of the sculpture.

Anne hails from the United Kingdom where these same hallucinogenic fungi were recently found on the grounds of Buckingham Palace. An official was quick to assure everyone that the mushrooms from the garden would not be used in the kitchen. The Queen would not be prancing around the palace.

Prior to becoming involved in ice art, Anne worked at Madame Tussaud’s and The British Museum creating replicas of famous people. She has a degree in fine arts from the National Art School in Sydney and at the City and Guilds of London Art School. Her father, Juan, who runs a florist shop in Sydney, Australia, flew in to Fairbanks to help with the sculpture.

Ice Alaska, the organization supporting the ice art competition in Fairbanks, includes brief bios on most of the carvers. Some, like Anne, are art school graduates. Others came by their profession by less direct routes. For example, Chris Foltz, one of the carvers of Soul Catcher, is executive chef at the Oregon Coast Culinary Institute. Ice sculptures are often on display at fancy group dinners such as those found on cruise ship. In these cases, ice carving skills are a plus for chefs. Both of the artists for Spark come from culinary backgrounds. Tajana Rauker from Croatia studied culinary arts in Krk, Croatia. Her partner in carving Spark, Ted Wakar, is an executive chef at Ford Motor Company.

Day time view of ice sculpture "Soul Catcher" at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska

The ice art sculpture “Soul Collector” was still being worked on. A tarp had been put up to protect it from the sun.

Ice art sculpture "Soul Collector" lit up at night at the 2016 World Ice Art Championshipsin Fairbanks, Alaska.

“Soul Collector” at night.

Close up of ice sculpture "Soul Collector" at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships.

A night-time close up.

"The Spark" ice sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships

This sculpture, “The Spark,” was carved by two people with culinary training.

The Spark ice art sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships at Fairbanks, Alaska

“The Spark” at night with an ice block “?” held by ‘ice tongs’ in the heart. Translate: Is this the One?

Ice carving artists are often involved with related art activities such as wood carving. Ben Firth, who along with his brother Barnabas, was responsible for carving Conflict, also carves antlers, sculpts in bronze, and works in pencil and watercolors. His art is sold out of the family’s art studio in Anchor Point, Alaska. Ivan Loktyukhin, is another multi-talented artist, who has won numerous prizes for his wood carving and metal sculptures as well as ice art. Ivan holds a degree in Architectural Design from the Russian Pacific National University. Along with Vadim Polin, Ivan was responsible for creating Yahoo!

"Nature of Conflict" ice art sculpture at 2016 World Ice Art Championships held in Fairbanks, Alaska.

A close up of the “Nature of Conflict” ice sculpture during the day.

"Nature of Conflict" ice art sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships.

And at night. A chess game was in progress at the bottom.

Ice Sculpture "Yahoo" at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

“Yahoo!” seemed to be an appropriate title for this unfinished ice sculpture of a woman riding her ostrich. (I showed her missing legs in my last blog.)

Yahoo! ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska..

And here she is at night, going all out with legs attached!

Head of ostrich included in the ice art sculpture "Yahoo!" show at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships.

I couldn’t resist this close up of the ostrich’s head.

Another artist who caught my attention was Lkhagvadorj Dorjsuren (AKA George) who was the first person from Mongolia to carve ice. He won his first contest in Finland where no one spoke his language. One of his dreams is to start a competition in Mongolia that would draw tourists. Sign me up! He and his partner Enkh-Erdene Ganbataar, (aka Eggi) created the rather humorously named sculpture AAAHH BaaMMM Beee Beeem. (Yeah, I don’t have a clue, either.) George, working with Altankhuu Khishigdalai, also helped create The Beginning of Time.

"AAAHH BaaMMM Beee Beeem" ice art sculpture at 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

AAAHH BaaMMM Beee Beeem during the day…

A"AAHH BaaMMM Beee Beeem" ice sculpture during the night of judging at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships.

And at night.

"The Beginning of Time" ice art sculpture ice art sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships

George and Altankhuu from Mongolia working on “The Beginning of Time.”

The Beginning of Time ice carving sculpture at the 2016 World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, Alaska.

“The Beginning of Time” shown at night, my last photo for this post.

I have only been able to cover a few of the participating artists. If you are interested in learning more about these artists or others involved check out the Ice-Alaska website. NEXT BLOG: I will finish up my blogs on the world ice art competition.

Roadhouses: A Dying Breed… North to Alaska

February 28, 2016February 24, 2016 / Curt Mekemson / 15 Comments

One fun thing about roadhouses is that they have different personalities. This mountain goat with sunglasses greeted us a King Mountain Lodge on the Glenallen Highway in Alaska.

A fun thing about roadhouses is that they have different personalities. This mountain goat with sunglasses greeted us a King Mountain Lodge on the Glenallen Highway in Alaska.

Peggy and I are off in Alaska as you read this blog. Since I won’t have time for blogging or reading blogs, I decided to repost a few blogs from the trip we made to Alaska three years ago. If you have been following me for a while, you will have read these blogs previously. I will try to respond to comments. –Curt

There was a time when roadhouses meant survival on the lonely highway to Alaska. You would find one every several miles. The amenities were simple but many: basic food, a place to sleep, enough auto repair to get you down the road, a place to hang out in a storm, advice on the next section of highway, and a friendly face. Beyond the basics, however, each roadhouse was slightly different. It reflected the personality of the owner. And people who chose to live and survive in the far north, tended to have strong personalities. There was no McDonalds’ mentality.

This dining set at the King Mountain Lodge was definitely reminiscent of those found in 50’s diners, but what was with the Harley parked in the dining room?

The Milepost has served as the Bible for those traveling the Alaska Highway since 1949. I used it religiously on my five trips over the highway. You could always depend on it to list the next roadhouse and the services provided. Sadly, even though the legendary travel guide is revised annually, it can no longer keep up with the number of roadhouses being closed. Roadhouses, like family diners, have become a victim of the times. Modern, paved highways and fast travelling vehicles mean that travellers can easily get from one major community to the next, from one fast food joint to the next, and from one motel chain to the next. No longer do dirt roads in poor repair with car-eating potholes and hubcap deep mud force travellers to make frequent stops at roadhouses. We made an effort to patronize roadhouses on this trip, when we could find them. One in particular stood out as a representative of the dying breed, the King Mountain Lodge on the Glenallen Highway between Tok and Anchorage.

A hand printed sign at the King Mountain Lodge announced that food was available and we were hungry. In this photo, Darlene, the cook and owner’s wife, heads back inside after waving goodbye to us.

The breakfast menu at the lodge. The owner, his wife, and a friend immediately entered into a lively conversation with us on what we wanted for lunch. The owner, Mike, and his wife then disappeared into the kitchen while the friend Claire gave us a tour.

Darlene and Claire share a laugh with us over Claire’s T-Shirt.

Our tour included the bar. Check out the bar stools. Each is hand-made and different. A number of signs were found over the bar and throughout the room.

This sign was typical.

There was even a location for people who wanted to snivel.

This photo caught my attention. In 1985, Libby Riddles became the first woman to win the Iditarod, Alaska's famous sled dog race. Shortly afterwards she did a photo shoot for Vogue Magazine. I picked her up at the Anchorage airport on her return to Alaska and escorted her around town for a couple of days. She had volunteered to do publicity for the non-profit where I served as Executive Director.

This photo on the wall caught my attention. In 1985, Libby Riddles became the first woman to win the Iditarod, Alaska’s famous sled dog race. Shortly afterwards she did a photo shoot for Vogue Magazine, which is where this photo was taken. I picked her up at the Anchorage airport on her return to Alaska and escorted her around town to various media outlets for a couple of days. I had called Libby shortly after she won the race and talked her into doing publicity for the non-profit where I served as Executive Director.

The bar also had a glass case that included this M&M collector's piece. Turns out that the Brays, who were traveling with us, have a thing for M&M s. Linda talked the owner into selling her the M&M baseball player for five dollars.

The bar also had a glass case that included this M&M collector’s piece. Turns out that the Bob and Linda Bray, who were traveling with us, have a serious collection of M&M dispensers. Linda talked the owner into selling her the M&M baseball player for five dollars.

Meanwhile, Peggy had decided she had to try the Harley out for size.

Mike the owner of King Mountain Lodge, and the motorcycle, immediately showed up and insisted that if Peggy was going to sit on the Harley, she had to go for a ride. Out they went for a quick spin around the parking lot and the highway.

Needless to say, we all had a great time at the roadhouse. BTW, the food was quite good. Doreen and Claire came out to rescue Peggy from the motorcycle and send us on our way.

Happy New Year to Our Friends in the Blogging World!

January 1, 2016December 31, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 47 Comments

Fireworks from Burning Man to welcome in the New Year.

Fireworks from Burning Man 2015 to welcome in the New Year.This is a side view of the Man just before he burns.

It’s that time of year when our lives are balanced on the edge of looking back and forward. I don’t do New Year’s resolutions so much as I look backward to see where I have been and forward to see where I am going. The two are obviously closely connected. Normally we continue down the same path; it is a deep rut we have created. But occasionally something knocks us off the beaten track, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Doors close; doors open. I try to live a life of no regrets, or at least as few as possible— life is precious. When I die, I want the last words on my lips to be, “Wow! What a trip,” not “Damn, I wish I would have…”

As bloggers, our lives are more open than most. We share the journeys we are on, both inward and outward— and you have shared much with me in 2015. I’ve been privileged to help raise goats in Virginia, romp with Milo in Australia, worry about a lost cat in England, and wander back in time to World War II. I’ve travelled to the world’s capitals and the remote corners of Africa, Europe, Asia, South America, North America, Australia and New Zealand with both old and new blogging friends. (Over a year qualifies as “old” in the blogging world.)

You’ve allowed me to see the world through your eyes in Nigeria, Knoxville, Southeast Texas, northern Oregon, and ever so many other places. I’ve stood beside you as you have fought Ebola in West Africa, hiked in Patagonia, travelled down the Nile by boat, snorkeled in Iceland and built houses in Nepal. Many of you are superb writers; you’ve shared your poetry and stories and causes as well as your adventures. And many of you are excellent photographers, sharing your life in pictures as well as words.

Thank you.

In return, I’ve taken you backpacking into the Grand Canyon, shared the craziness and beauty of Burning Man, and invited you into my home in southern Oregon. Peggy took you along on her exploration of the Cotswold in England, and I took you up the North Coast of California where we explored subjects ranging from the Grateful Dead to the world of tattooing. I suspect you recall my confrontations with the Nike Missile north of San Francisco. Iggy the Iguana wandered into our living room and onto my blog in Puerto Vallarta. And there were many more adventures. It was all fun for me. I was particularly excited and pleased to share the publishing of my book, The Bush Devil Ate Sam, about my experiences as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Liberia.

Of the many visitors to our home I blog about is the deer herd that lives in our backyard and has become quite fond of apples.

We travelled from the Bell Tower in Sedona...

We travelled from the beautiful red rock country of Sedona…

To this bower of trees at Point Reyes National Seashore.

Peggy took you on a trip to England that included Gloucester Cathedral hallway that was hues in Harry Potter.

Peggy took you on a trip to England that included a Gloucester Cathedral hallway that was used in Harry Potter.

While I took you to the Potter School in Bodega, CA that was used in Alfred Hitchcock’s film, The Birds.

Senor Iggy the iguana came to visit us when we were in Puerto Vallarta.

Altogether, according to WordPress, my posts had 94,000 views from 170 countries in 2015— not monumental in the world of blogging, but definitely enough to please this wanderer.

Here’s what’s on tap for 2016:

In January and February I will be blogging about Burning Man 2015 with added thoughts on Burning Man 2016
At the end of February, Peggy and I will be travelling to Alaska to see the kick-off of the Iditarod Sled Dog Race in Anchorage, and the World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, both of which I will blog about.
From mid-March through May, Peggy and I will make a 10,000-mile road trip around the US and Eastern Canada, retracing the route of my 1989 solo, six-month bicycle trek. I’ll be blogging about both the bike trip and the road trip as we travel.
From mid-July to mid-August I will be doing a 250-mile backpack trek from Kennedy Meadows to Mt. Whitney in the Sierra Nevada Mountains following the Pacific Crest Trail and the John Muir Trail. While I am out, I will be running blogs on past outdoor/wilderness treks. When I get back, I will do a series on the actual Trek. (I’ve done the trip several times, but at 73? Hmmm. Guess we’ll see.)
Late August should see us back at Burning Man. After that, who knows?

Here’s wishing each of you a happy and healthy New Year.

Curt and Peggy

NEXT BLOG: We will head off to Burning Man 2015 as promised.

What to Do When a Nike Missile Is Pointed at You… Surrender.

December 6, 2015December 5, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 39 Comments

This Nike missile came out of the ground and was pointed at me when I was visiting Golden Gate National Recreation Area just north of San Francisco. I quickly moved aside and snapped its photo. Missiles were raised skyward before being fired.

I heard a whirring sound just before the large metal gates clanked open. A Nike missile rose ominously out of the ground. It was pointed at me. “I surrender,” I said to the missile as I slowly raised my hands. It seemed like the wise thing to do. Not very long ago (1953-1979), back in the disturbing days of the Cold War, this deadly weapon had been loaded with a nuclear warhead two-three times as powerful as the atom bombs America had dropped on Japan at the end of World War II. It still spoke of destruction, but now it was defanged. It had become a museum piece, a shell of its former self, a relic of our very scary past.

SF-88 is located in what is now the Golden Gate National Recreation Area just across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco. It was one of 300 Nike missile sites across the US built as a last line of defense against Soviet bombers carrying nuclear weapons. It now serves as the only restored Nike site in America.

I visited the museum as part of my August trip up the North Coast of California. When I arrived, two park rangers sat outside enjoying the sun. I put one to work; he volunteered to take me on a personal tour of the underground facility. We climbed down the stairs with our footsteps echoing into a large room filled with missiles. After describing how the massive weapons were to be used, he suggested I try pulling one on its track. I couldn’t believe how easily it moved; I felt like I had super powers. He explained that the system was designed for getting the missiles up and ready to fire in 15 minutes. Several million lives depended on quick action.

Each of the 300 Nike missile sites around the US had several Nike missiles ready to fire off in 15 minutes to take down Russian bombers approaching the country.

A view of one of the missiles. They were large enough I couldn’t capture the full missile within the confines of its underground bunker.

I easily moved one of the Nike Missiles along the track toward its launching station.

5.The Nike missiles at SF-88 would rise through these gates

These gates would open in preparation for a launch of the Nike Missiles.

The Nike missiles at SF-88 were intended to target Russian bombers 90 mile off the coast from the Golden Gate. The nuclear warheads were to assure that none got through. The greatest fear was that they might be carrying 50-megaton Tsar Hydrogen bombs, the mother of all bombs. The Russians had built one and blown it up as a warning to the US. To put things in perspective, it had 1,350–1,570 times the explosive power of the atom bombs that destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

“The Tsar Bomb,” the park ranger explained, “would be exploded a few thousand feet up in the air above San Francisco.” All people living in the region would be killed. There would no longer be a San Francisco, an Oakland, a San Jose, a Berkeley, or any of the other communities located in the Bay Area. Neither would there be any birds, mammals, reptiles, trees, grass, or other life left living. A chill settled over me as I recalled I was a student at Berkeley during the 60s, at the height of the Cold War.

I thought even the smaller Nike weapons would be devastating to the region. The prominent west winds would bring deadly radiation from the explosions raining down on the Bay Area and points east. “What would it matter?” the ranger asked. What indeed. Once a nuclear war started, the US and Russia had enough nuclear weapons to wipe out life on earth— several times over.

Having heard enough bad news, I climbed out of the bunker leaving the ranger to explain doomsday to another group of visitors that had arrived. I was outside by myself when Nike Missile came rumbling up from its underground hideout. No one had told me it was part of the tour.

The gates as seen from above. I don’t know, but I suspect they would have been camouflaged during the Cold War.

I heard a whirring sound, the gates clanked open, and the missile arose out of its bunker.

What would have been lost during a nuclear war.

A view of the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco from the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. The Nike missile site is over the hill from where I took this photo.

NEXT BLOG: I visit the Marconi Station at Point Reyes National Seashore where Morse Code messages were once sent out to all ships at sea in the Pacific Ocean— and are still sent out to the sunken Titanic in the Atlantic.

Adios Puerto Vallarta, Hasta Luego

December 2, 2015December 1, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 18 Comments

No doubt about it, the highlight of our visit to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico this year was our visit by Senior Iggy, the Iguana.

It was time to say goodbye to Puerto Vallarta. We packed up our clothes, laptops, dock kits, etc., and were wondering where we would find space for the goodies we had bought. Like most experienced travellers, we carry minimum luggage. Space is at a premium. Somehow, we always seem to have a few square inches to spare, however. Our Kindles help; a travelling library is no longer required.

Checkout was at 10:00. The plane was leaving at 3:30. Translate: Lots of time to kill. We headed over to the hotel’s open-air restaurant that overlooks Banderas Bay. Maybe some dolphins would entertain us. We didn’t see any, but Angel, the headwaiter, spotted us and came hurrying over. Peggy has befriended him over the years. I am in charge of generous tips. The combination assures excellent service.

Peggy and Angel at Krystal Hotel in Puerto Vallarta

Peggy and our waiter, Angel, at the Krystal Hotel.

While we missed seeing any dolphins during breakfast, we found this father-son look-a-like team rather amusing.

While we missed seeing any dolphins during breakfast, we found this scene rather amusing. I wonder who the boy’s father is? (Grin)

As always, we had enjoyed our two weeks— one with friends and one on our own. We had eaten several good meals, sat out on the beach, watched beautiful sunsets, appreciated the art, and enjoyed the wildlife, including Senior Iguana, who had stopped by for a visit. Walking three to five miles a day and limiting ourselves to one major meal meant we might go home skinnier than we came. That would be a first.

Much of the art on the Malecon encourages interaction, much like Burning Man art. Here I am with our friends Ken and Leslie Lake.

Numerous good restaurants in Puerto Vallarta always tempt us. Peggy chomps down on a tropical creation.

Speaking of the tropics, this plant certainly had a tropical look.

As did this flower.

And this palm tree.

Pigeon with flying symbol on back in Puerto Vallarta

Pigeons are found everywhere but this fellow with his unusual ‘flight patter’ on his back caught my attention. I must have chased after him for ten minutes with my camera.

A view of our hotel. When we started going to Puerto Vallarta, the Krystal stood side by side with one-two story buildings. Now surrounding skyscrapers have destroyed the ambience.

A view of our hotel. When we started going to Puerto Vallarta, the Krystal stood side by side with one-two story buildings. Now it is surrounded by skyscrapers. So much for ambience.

We would head out to the beach every evening to catch the sunset. I liked the silhouette of these palm tress created by the setting sun.

We headed out to the beach every evening to catch the sunset. I liked the silhouette of these palm tress that was created by the setting sun.

14 Cowboy and cruise ship in Puerto Vallarta

Old and new Puerto Vallarta: A cowboy stops to talk with someone as a cruise ship disappears into the distance.

Counting up left over pesos is always part of our departure ritual. Peggy’s responsibility is to then go out and spend them. She darted across the street to the furniture-plus store while I worked on writing in the hotel’s lobby. I now have another blog in the Grand Canyon series (you will see it on Friday), and Peggy has two new colorful cereal bowls.

Finally, after what seemed like a long, long time, we grabbed a cab for the short ten-minute ride to the airport. And here I have something important to report— the security-check was a pleasure. What?? No way!!! Peggy and I work really hard to make TSA officials in the US laugh. On rare occasions, we even get a glimmer of a grin. I think TSA has a no-smile rule, like the guards at Buckingham Palace. But here, the agents were actually smiling on their own, like they enjoyed their jobs, like they were happy to see visitors, like they recognized the odds of us being terrorists were infinitesimally small. Back in the US they probably would have been fired.

A final Puerto Vallarta sunset.

NEXT BLOG: Back to the Grand Canyon and hostile spirits from another realm.

Shape Shifting and Art in Puerto Vallarta— or, On Becoming Your Favorite Animal

November 30, 2015November 27, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 11 Comments

1. Mystical mural of animals in Puerto Vallarta

Shamans choose their animals to shape shift into based on certain characteristics. The Jaguar is powerful and dangerous, the deer and rabbit fleet of feet, the bird fleet of wing, and the coyote clever.

Shamanistic traditions around the world often involve shape shifting. The shaman enters a trance and adopts the form and/or spirit of an animal, for healing, travel to another world, or more sinister purposes. Often the switch is made with the aid of a hallucinogenic drug, such as peyote. This is the drug of choice among the Huichol Indians of Mexico and is frequently portrayed in their art. In addition to works produced by indigenous people for sale in Puerto Vallarta, I also found a number of murals that illustrated the indigenous tradition of shape shifting.

2. Shape shifting mural mask in Puerto Vallarta

Masks are reflective of shape shifting. Jaguars are a common animal of choice, as in the Puerto Vallarta Mural, and…

This Oaxaca mask.

Deer are fast, a good choice if you have to get somewhere in a hurry. This Huichol deer is covered with beads that make up symbols that relate to the Huichol’s belief system. That’s peyote on his forehead.

I haven't heard of iguanas being a choice for shape shifting. Maybe that's why this Huichol piece looks sad.

I haven’t heard of iguanas being a choice for shape shifting. Maybe that’s why this Huichol piece looks glum. Or is that my imagination working overtime?

In this Huichol string painting, I couldn’t help but believe that even the baby was shape shifting. A squid, perhaps? The mother-to-be seems to prefer a snake form.

While almost all Huichol creations reflect the tribe’s belief system, much of the art created in Oaxaca is created solely for the beauty and pleasure it brings, often with a sense of humor attached. The same can be said for Puerto Vallarta’s murals.

There is no apparent shape shifting in the Oaxaca saber toothed tiger. Or in the peacock behind it.

Another Oaxaca cat with big teeth.

And here we have the domestic version is his “feed me now” pose.

Cool cats, perhaps— as jazz musicians were once referred to as, and a musical iguana were the subject of this mural we found on the Rio Cuale.

Cool cats, perhaps— as jazz musicians were once called, and a multi-talented iguana, were the subject of this mural we found on the Rio Cuale.

An iguana of a different stripe? This is one pointing to one of life’s great pleasures: hot peppers. Apparently they are hot enough to shake Puerto Vallarta’s Cathedral.

Shape shifting is a thing of dreams in our minds as well. We imagine what it might be like to be a hawk soaring across the sky, or a cheetah running with the wind. I’ve been reading a book on lucid dreaming, just for fun. If you aren’t familiar with the concept, it has to do with consciously being aware that you are dreaming and doing things you can’t normally do in life, like walk through walls, or take off flying whenever you wish. Basically, you control what happens in the dream.

The book, A Field Guide to Lucid Dreaming, even has a section on shape shifting. “Before you go to sleep,” the book directs, “decide what person, beast, or object you want to transfer into.” Say you want to try being a tiger. Imagine it before you go to sleep. When you awake in your dream, “feel the sensations a tiger would feel. Stand on all fours and feel your teeth getting sharp.” Good advice (grin). Once you become a skilled Oneironautic, you might actually make it happen according to the book.

Feel your teeth growing and becoming sharp!

Now, I confess I am a little skeptical. At least I haven’t suddenly become awake in my dreams and decided to become a yappy Chihuahua. That’s not saying it isn’t worth a try. I do on occasion change the course of a dream from a bad ending to a good ending. I actually get up and run away from the monster instead of lying there in a semi-paralyzed stupor as he starts to devour me from the toes up. It’s a start, but not enough. I dearly want to be that hawk winging across the sky or the Cheetah charging along at 35 miles per hour. How about you?

Is there a Chihuahua in your future. Even though Senior Pooch pretended to be deaf, he couldn't avoid having his numerous faults listed, again and again.

Is there a Chihuahua in your future. I found these guys playing along the Rio Cuale. My thought: Even though Senior Perro pretended to be deaf, he couldn’t avoid having his numerous faults reiterated— again. Don’t you just love the look on his face?

Or possibly you have something more elegant in mind, as reflected in this Puerto Vallarta Mural.

Or possibly you have something more elegant in mind with a ring in your nose, as reflected in this Puerto Vallarta Mural.

NEXT BLOG: Peggy and I say goodbye to Puerto Vallarta

The Markets of Puerto Vallarta— Where Hustle Is the Name of the Game

November 27, 2015November 27, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 21 Comments

The old vendor’s face, wrinkled with decades of toil, was backlit by a strong sun.

The old man waved beaded bracelets and necklaces as us. We were having lunch at la Palapa and a tasty red snapper was demanding my attention. I couldn’t have cared less about the beads. In fact, I was irritated by the interruption— by the constant interruptions as one after another street/beach vendor rudely shook his or her wares at us, demanding our attention and dollars.

But the face of the old man— the deep wrinkles and lines, the scraggly whiskers, the cloudy eyes: the character— it caught me. I broke out my camera and ten pesos. I wasn’t going to buy trinkets; I was paying for a likeness, a reflection of life and how hard it can be, but also capturing a certain beauty, won by years of struggle.

A blanket vendor also insisted on showing us her wares as we ate lunch. The bright sun behind her made photography difficult but it helped capture the rich colors of her blankets.

Puerto Vallarta is a tourist town. Its primary source of income is the thousands of people who are disgorged weekly from airplanes and giant cruise ships. The challenge, from a purely economic perspective, is how to sort the visitors from their cash before they leave, to get a piece of the action. Hustle is the name of the game, from the small girl selling Chiclets for pennies to the timeshare salesperson selling future vacations for 25 thousand dollars. The small girl has only her haunted eyes to push her product; the timeshare salesman has a whole arsenal of half-truths and a tenacity that would put a tick to shame.

(While I write this post, I realize that it will be published on Black Friday, the day that America’s merchants are desperately hoping to sort Americans from their cash. When I turn the TV on, it is one continuous ad— marketers rudely shaking their products in our faces with half-truths that would put a timeshare salesman to shame.)

An hour of relaxing on the beautiful Banderas Bay beach in front of the Krystal Hotel is like an hour lesson in basic capitalism. Beach vendors are specialists. Whether you need a shirt, a dress, a hat, a ring, a necklace, a tattoo, a trip, a cigar, a massage, a woodcarving, a drink, dark glasses, a blanket, or food (or not), someone will be there to sell it to you. The hat man has hats perched on top of his head as high as they will go. The blanket sales vendor a stack of blankets a yard thick. The henna tattoo guy comes at you with a book of tattoos to pick from. Will it be a Harley or a harlot? A polite, no gratias, usually sends them all on their way, at least for the moment. But show a bit of interest and they descend like buzzards, ready to pick your wallet, if not your bones, clean.

Peggy is the shopper in our family. She bought a small turtle, iguana, and beaded eggs from a Huichol artist, two gorgeous tablecloths at the Municipal Market, and a silver necklace from a beach vendor. Peggy had recognized the beach vendor from years past.

3. Huichol artist ion the Rio Cuale in Puerto Vallarto

Ernesto, a Huichol artist, has a bright smile for us whenever we stop by. If he doesn’t have what we want, he makes it for us. The brightly decorated eggs (lower-center) are covered with Huichol symbols and will be decorating our son’s Christmas tree.

Peggy checks out a new table cloth she is buying. The day before we had checked it out and Peggy had mentioned she wanted the edges sewn. The young woman took the tablecloth home that night and did the work.

Peggy checks out a new table-cloth she is buying. The day before we had checked it out and Peggy had mentioned she wanted the edges finished. The young woman took the tablecloth home that night and did the work— on three table cloths. We ended up buying two.

5. Felix the beach vendor in Puerto Vallarta

Felix, as in Felix the Cat, displays his bracelets and necklace pendants on the beach in front of the Krystal Hotel.

“Do you remember my name?” he asked. “It’s Felix, like in Felix the Cat. Meow.” I particularly liked the meow and meowed back. While Felix was entertaining us with his patter, he had opened his box of silver jewelry. Peggy showed a spark of interest in two necklaces. “Which do you like?” Peggy asked, turning to me. Felix knew he had her. “I’ll sell you both for 1400 pesos,” he offered. “Too much,” Peggy responded. “How much will you pay?” he asked. We had entered the negotiation stage. The general rule of thumb is about 50% of the asking price. Vendors double the price, and add a bit for profit. We ended up only buying one and paying too much. Felix left with a large smile.

Large public markets are a step up from the beach in terms of sheer quantity. A walk through the Municipal Market (Mercado Municipal) will introduce you to dozens of vendors, each with his or her own space packed to the ceiling. All are trying to entice you in. “I make you good deal.” “Half price.” “Almost free.” “Look will cost you nothing.” “Two for one happy hour cost.” And on and on, over and over. One vendor on the Rio Cuale asked, “Want to buy some junk?” It was a welcome and humorous change.

6. Vendors stall at the Mercado in Puerto Vallarta

Vendors stalls at the Municipal Market next to the Rio Cuale are stuffed to the ceiling with items designed to capture a tourist’s attention. It quickly becomes overwhelming unless you are shopping for something specific.

The market is two stories high and must contain at least a hundred stalls… each with one or more vendors eager for you to check out their goods.

The market is two stories high and must contain at least a hundred stalls… each with one or more vendors urging you to check out their goods.

My friend Ken Lake and I were wandering through the market at the seaport while Peggy and Leslie were having massages when we received a different offer. Ken was using the line, “We have to wait for our wives,” to put off vendors.

A rather short and squat, older woman responded, “Who needs wives? I have a sister. Only $50. I have two sisters, one for each of you.”

“For $50,” I asked as Ken made a hasty retreat. “No, no. $50 each,” she insisted as the eyed the rapidly disappearing Lake. “You could have two at once. Much fun.” She said laughing. “Mañana,” I responded as I hurried to catch my friend before he disappeared.

The most intriguing market, it turns out, was right across from our hotel. We had visited years earlier and I hadn’t been impressed. This time was different. Peggy, Ken and Leslie had gone across the road for a visit while I was working on a blog. She came back saying I had to go. Turns out, the place is a huge furniture market, with the furniture being made on site. But that’s only the beginning. It’s an interior decorators dream, packed with thousands of items. I walked around in awe for two hours, going from room to room. And there was no pressure to buy. Not one salesperson approached us unless we had a question. I was so appreciative I was tempted to buy a 20 foot table as a thank you.

The furniture store as seen across the street from our hotel. It must have has several thousand feet of display space.

8. Large table at furniture store in Puerto Vallarta

This large slab of wood is destined to be turned into a table! Can you imagine the size of the house you would need to accommodate it? Do you own a castle?

I would love to have a table like this. You would never be at a lack for conversation when you had guests over. The chairs were equally delightful.

Peggy came and rooted me out of one of the rooms I was wandering through to look at this chest.

12. Peggy and scuplture at Puerto Vallarta furniture store

I took advantage of the break to have her pose in front of one of the warrior statues that were found throughout the store…

10. Life sized horse at Puerto Vallarta furniture store

There was also this full sized horse. It must have gone with the 20 foot table and the castle to put it in.

Along with these musical frogs.

13. Old woman at furniture store in Puerto Vallarta

For all of the large pieces in the store, there were dozens of smaller works. This old woman with her wrinkles reminded me of the old vendor I kicked off this post with. It’s a fitting place to end.

NEXT BLOG: The fine art of shape shifting in Mexico. Jaguars are really popular when it comes to turning yourself into an animal. What would you become?

Wandering through Time and Place

Exploring the world with Curtis and Peggy Mekemson

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