A masterpiece dream of climbing and taking whippers infiltrates my head space as a few friends and I boogie till we puke at the Squamish Mountain Festival. I had to indulge in a little offwidth climbing to work the body and test that #6 camalot, just to be sure!

Settling into the Squamish Vibe

Under the green canopy that lingers below the shadow of The Chief in Squamish, BC, I have a hard time waking up early. My whole body aching from trad climbing, sport climbing and bouldering daily, I grin in my orange sleeping bag as my pooch streched beside me. This is the life. My fingers are raw and my smile is big! This place is a paradise for many. The campsite is chalk full of climbers and dirtbags wandering the planet looking for the most beautiful lines to climb. I am one of those adventurers. Each night as we jam with mandolins and didgeridoos, I sing along in harmony. The vibe is peaceful and perma-smiles float across the lips of the passers by brushing thier teeth in unison with song.

On my last rest day, I went strawberry picking in Pemberton. The strawberry bushes, busting with red berries are a sight to see for the hungry belly. Eating as many as I could, the bucket took a while to fill. When I arrived back at camp, I was strawberried out so I shared my bucket with everyone around. Everyone loves a fresh picked strawberry!

Yesterday I climbed with Marin, a lovely lass from Winnipeg. As she lead the 10a trad crack she joked and said that she had never climbed with someone more prairie than she. She is from Winnipeg and I from Regina, who would have thought that we knew how to rock climb! It is a real pleasure climbing with ladies, they motivate me so much! and tough chicas are quite the bunch!

Sharing my life with people who have the same passion is an incredible feeling. You always feel like you can relate, no matter the race or nationality. Who would have thought that climbing a rock just to come back down again could be so much fun!

Back in Canada...

Finally we have made it. Many miles, and a few epic adventures behind us, we are now in Vancouver, British Columbia. I guess I will wait to see how long return culture shock takes to settle in. I spent the last two and a half years of my life in Mexico. Returning to a familiar culture can be daunting, especially because I have had to adopt to a whole new way of living and experiencing the world. The eyes of the Mexican culture have become my eyes. Tomorrow we are headed to the oh-so famous, Squamish, BC, home of the Chief. More climbing awaits and my fingers are itching to pull down on some sweet rock.

Arches National Park, UTAH

WOW. An incredible rarity of nature reveals herself to my eyes today. In something like an alien terrain, red sandstone monoliths protrud through the earths crust defying gravity. Our imaginations take flight for moments of awe as we hike to the Delicate Arch, the most photographed arch in the world near Moab, Utah. The dry desert afternoon is kind to us as well as the small herd of other tourists who have made this journey with us.

The same evening, monster drinks in hand, my buddies decide to drive and drive and drive and we make it past Salt Lake City to a KOA campground only to set up temporary camp at 5 in the morning. In fact, I am not sure exactly where we are, but today is the 4th of July, the celebration of American Independence. All the oversized campers in their oversized campers are decked out in red white and blue, doing belly flops in the chorinated outdoor swimming pool. The barbeque beef and fireworks await this evenings festivities, which no doubt cost millions of dollars for minutes of pleasure. That sounds about right. Dont get me wrong, I enjoy fireworks too, but when you really think about it, the little plastic explosions in the sky are both a tad ridiculous and a marvel of human engenuity all at once.

Next, we drive and drive and drive some more to Vancouver, BC, Canada.

Rifle, Colorado. Steep, Juggy Slopers.

These last few days climbing in Rifle, Colorado have been trying. The climbing here is steep and the grades steep too. After a month of no climbing, my head is having a hard time getting back into the rhythm of leading, however, I red-pointed a few hard 10's on the first day! Camping here reminds me of the crisp Canadian Wild with all its grandeur. Fresh scents of pines and wild roses waft past our noses as we dig deep into our chalk bags. A little hot olive oil spill on my leg and all over my dog had damped an afternoon charged with relief. Thank the stars that it wasn't on my foot... I would have had a tough time putting on those tiny shoes. I hope to avoid an infection in this dirty lifestyle we are living. We do have a skin numbing burbling creek near our camp sight to keep clean, it sure is a invite for the Kayak! Hmm, I think I will submerge myself this afternoon.

Hueco Tanks, a Boulderer´s Paradise!!!

After a long drive in a circle (a three hour circle from El Paso back to Sierra Blanca and almost all the way back to El Paso), we finally arrived in our first destination, Hueco Tanks!
Deserted, except for a few rangers, the hot sun beat down on our water deprived bodies. We didn´t care, because, once again, elation had set in! We had a few hours before the park closed for the day to explore and chalk up. This place sure is magical! The mountains of boulders filled with pock marks are a buffet for climbers like us! Not even a little wind storm that almost carried our tent into the dark desert abyss could dampen our spirits! Even though there is no more combi, this was it, pure adventure!

And it´s all over for the combi!

Our first day on the road we decided to try to get as far as we could. Deciding to take the Columbia border crossing rather than go through Nuevo Laredo was definitely the best choice! The Combi arrived at the small and apparently isolated border crossing safe and smooth late in the afternoon. The scorching sun above welcomed us into the United States of America. Usually border crossings can be stressful and intimidating; however we were met with curiosity and smiles. Our van was sure loaded down and we were awaiting the brunt of “the search”. Here is where the strange part comes in. As we pulled in and presented our passports, Christopher, Daniel, and Rodrigo had to go inside and ask for a permit. There are different regulations for Mexicans than Canadians. I just had to show my passport and wait. No less than 5 minutes later they all came strutting out with papers in hand. We were all waiting for someone to come and search our van, but no one came. In fact, as I chatted with a border guard I realized that they weren’t going to check us at all. Not even a little. They didn´t even ask to see the inside of neither the van nor the papers for Sandia. Nothing. We were free. The least bit of hassle and some friendly smiles. We were all shocked, but pleasantly surprised! Our long haul through the States had begun as we headed straight for San Antonio to stock up on road trip goodies.
After we passed San Antonio it was well past dark. Most of the crew was sleeping and Daniel was driving. I was awoken by the feeling that we were slowing down and Daniel was pulling over to investigate. He was having a really hard time down shifting into any gear. The Clutch was fried! NO… We decided to pull over and take a look under the van. Luckily, Daniel has a Combi of his own and is used to the regular repairs needed. He adjusted the clutch and we were on the road again. We knew it wouldn´t hold long, but if we could just make it 25 more miles to Junction, Texas, we could get it inspected by a professional. Not soon after on this deer infested highway, a small helpless doe decided to run across the road right in front of our van. And yes, we hit it at 100 kilometers an hour. Our mouths dropped and shock set it immediately. The smell of burning rubber caused us to stop. The damages on the 1972 classic were devastating. A smashed front end and a rear wheel cave in that was glued to the brand new BF Goodrich solved the cause of the burning rubber. We couldn’t go any further. My tears began to well up, but I had to make a phone call. We needed a tow truck and with Junction not so far away, we were sure the insurance would cover it. Unfortunately, no signal. I went for a little walk to try to catch something, but nothing. Our only option at 4 in the morning was to try to get some sleep. Three of us crammed in the back of the van which would be the first night for the new futon and Rodrigo set up his tent next to us.
The next morning after some discussing, two of us decided to hitchhike to town to call a tow truck. A nice fellow in a high rider truck with balls picked us up. So far in our experience with Texans, they sure seemed friendly and soon we would see just how nice they really can be. After many phone calls and transfers, we finally were able to get a tow. Ricky from Hill Country Chevy picked us up and took us to for a ride to wait patiently in the well needed air conditioned office and offered us free coffee. Sure it was the weakly brewed office stuff, but it was the thought that counted, right? After about an hour, the poor little Combi rolled in with the others. The next step was to brainstorm (my new favorite phrase in Spanish – lluvia de ideas)
Pulling into the small town of Junction, Texas was about to provide us with more surprises than we could have ever imagined. Many phone calls, enormous amounts of desperation and several laugh until you cry moments were about to be transpire over the following 3 days in this little Jesus praised town.
To put it bluntly, the combi was all over. The poor little deer spared our lives but took that of the Volkswagen classic. Day one and we were stranded in a town of less than 1000 in the middle of now where, Texas. I was faced with a plethora of decisions and a limited amount of patience at this point. Being with an incredible and positive group of people in times of stress really makes a difference. I knew I could count on my buddies to cheer me up and help me through the next days of intensity. Being self sufficient hospitality wise, we headed for the river and set up camp in the park adjacent to it. As night set, a plague of deer watched us from the shadows of majestic Texan trees. Our cozy camp spot would do us good for a few days. At least we weren´t stuck in a polluted big city.
Insurance is a bitch. I think they make it so hard and complicated for you to understand their ridiculous policies on purpose. I am positive shit loads of people just say “up yours” and abandon their vehicles to the wolves. (This thought crossed my mind more than once). The only way to validate the cost of the damages was to get an evaluator to examine the vehicle and assess the costs of reparation. The only way to do this was to send the Combi to the nearest Mexican border crossing. My unnamed insurance company (keeping the name private for their salvation, even though I should expose the hypocrisy), didn´t have evaluators in the States. Do they pay for the towing to ship the vehicle? Well sure, up to $500. However, the tow would cost over $2000. So, what the hell is the point for anyone to send it to have them say, “Yes, you were right, your combi is fucked!!”? Luckily after being in and out of Hill Country Chevy several hundred times over the last three days, Bill, George, Jimmy, Bob, Ricky and the rest of the gang loved us enough to give us an incredible discount (almost 50%) on the cost of the tow to El Paso, Texas.
That is fine and all, but you are probably wondering if our trip was all over, or what we would do next… Well, in this moment, I have to say thank the lord Jesus for credit cards! Love them or hate them, in times of desperation, they can save your life. The next decision I was about to take would probably cost me the next few years of my life, but oh sweet love it was worth it!
Outside the little mechanic shop and car dealership sat a variety of almost new and used cars. Hmmm… we could buy a new car, load it up and drive all the way to Canada! (Of course with our planned climbing spots along the way!). 2005 Dodge Ram V8? NOPE. 1998 Ford Expedition, NOPE. 2002 Jeep Liberty Sport, SURE! Why the hell not! Put it on the credit card!
So, now we are on the road in the navy blue JEEP listening to the Chili Peppers to meet the Combi in El Paso tomorrow morning. Hmm. A new adventure is about to begin!

Elation, pure elation, what more can I say.
It all began last Friday night. Pablo and I rushed out the house, the combi loaded to the teeth. Pablo was accompanying me from DF to San Luis Potosí to share the driving and accompany me one last time. He just missed his bus in the morning arriving at 5:34 (instead of the scheduled departing time of 4:50. Luckily he was able to catch the next one at 6:00. The short but beautiful goodbye in the florescent bus terminal was emotional. Emotional. A good theme word… I was supposed to meet a friend of Lu´s. (In case you don´t know Lu, he is a friend form San Luis Potosi who married a Quebequois and now lives in Montreal) So I was meeting his friend Hector to pick up Lu´s Kayak and take it all the way to Montreal. I followed Hector to his house across town to sleep a few hours before the next long ride to Saltillo the next morning. (Wait, it already was the next morning, I was only going to sleep for two hours)At 8:30 after my tin foiled smoked tofu sandwich, we loaded the kayak. Hector decided to visit a friend in Saltillo and go climbing in El Canyon de San Lorenzo. Great Idea! (He helped me drive). Another long journey in the chalk full combi. Luckily Hector knew a little about Volkswagens because we had a tiny problem. No gas acceleration! Only the tube had been pinched and after a simple adjustment we were riding smooth again! Yes, I have to mention that by this time, Hector had already complimented the smoothness of the tork of the new motor. I must take this moment to worship Enrique, who in DF, worked the combi´s magic and conditioned her back into sweet shape. When we arrived in Saltillo, we quickly met Christopher, Rodrigo and Daniel who we sometimes like to call Christo, Pop and Cachorro. Cachorro means “puppy” in Spanish. I know, strange. I have friends named Repollo (cabbage), Chicharro (Green pea) and Moko (Snot). Anyways, seeing these guys and all our energy together for the first time was splendid. And like I said before, I was elated. My two-day sleep deprived body was held at bay for the following six hours or so we packed everything, more like smushed everything, all our climbing gear, rucksacks and smiles into the van. Some other friends arrived and bigger smiled filled our faces. That night we partied like it was my last night in Mexico. We went to a club with a live reggae band playing covers of Gondwana, Marley and Tosh. Elation! The night was long. The next day we were about to embark on a trying and testing marathon of road travels and fun!

Of course I would never give up on the 1972 beauty... It is a classic and little fires here and there are bound to happen. The fire from the brakes was not that serious. A few days in the shop (a little more dinero) and everything was fixed, new brake pads and a wheel alignment. 

Xhibit (my friend LALO) has since pimped the interior and I get ready to hit the open roads in two days! WOO HOO! A little delay cannot suppress the excitement pouring from my inner child in the form of bittersweet dark chocolate... 

We spent two days in sunny Tepoztlan, Morelia sawing and grinding and cutting and polishing and screwing (not that kind-mmm the filthy mind infiltrates again). Only an hour away from the big city of Mexico and with three energetic dogs watching our every move, magic unfolded. Our inspirations poured out from porros and transpired into a bed with futon slash back seat, a fold away table and another fold away seat facing backwards. Fixing the van has been a great adventure in itself... let the next phase begin!

Even when your car starts on fire for the third time... Don`t Give Up!

So. What would you do if your car started on fire for the third time and you had no money left, in fact you had no credit left `cause you loaded your credit card with spare parts and new everythings for this same car? Would you give up and sell your car and say "FUCK IT" or would you reach out for a branch of hope and pray that your broken finger could hold on?

I am faced with a conundrum. The road trip has not yet begun, but a whole brake system and wheel alignment is necessary. In these very moments, I am faced with a decision that will change the future indefinately. 

The Finishing Touches

So, repairing a VW in Mexico is much easier in Mexico than anywhere in the States or Canada... after all, since 1964, Volkswagens have been constructed right here in Mexico, in the production plant in Puebla. Up until July 2003, Mexico was the only manufacturer of the VW Sedan in the world. In fact, the design for the newer looking BEETLE or BUG if you will is uniquely 100% Mexican and in January 2008, Volkswagen celebrated 10 years of its production in Mexico. As of now, over a million "new" Beetles have been sold in dealerships all over the world.  

So, saying this, it has been quite an adventure finding spare parts to really beautify my ride as you can find them in garages all over the country. The COMBI itself was designed in 1950 in Germany and just twenty two years later, in 1972, the one that I drive was built in Puebla. 

In the last few weeks I have been to backyard shops where spare parts are crammed between children`s toys guarded by salivating pooches. I have been to street side hole-in-the-walls with greasy-handed men smiling with beer in hands. I have been in and out of deals and slipped hard cash fast under tables in nice fat envelops hoping for a little discount. A particular "discount" incident was directly related to the "cambio de propietario" - the change in owner... Yes, a little inside string pulling from a rockin´ mechanic that saves my life daily and I legally own this 72 beauty without the paper filling, time consuming red tape. Cut a few corners and I saved over 300 dollars! Oh, the wonders of Mexican Business.    

As my COMBI receives its finishing touches, along with the new motor, new tires, disguising curtains, secure integrated lock system, phat futon, pumpin´ stereo, custom roof rack, paint touch up, I pack my bags. The only question now is how to fit my entire life, three Mexican friends and my dog inside...

Soon begins the Dirt bag road trip in the classic VW Combi!

Welcome to the new BLOG to record the wild imaginations and happenings of my Road trip Dirt Bag Style.
Why Dirt Bag? Well, this is a well known term fondly used by rock climbers everywhere. It basically means "Proud to be dirty and cheap". So, yes, I am also proud. I am proud to say that canned beans will never taste so good. Dirt baggin` it can`t be complete without the company of my lovely pooch, Sandia. For those of you who know this Potrero hound, you will be glad to discover that after an intense battle with cancer, she is as lively as ever and still so well behaved!
So, WE are about to embark on an adventure of sorts with varying company of different nationalities (such as my Mexican homies) in a 1972 VW Combi Bus. Many of you may know the combi for its reputation of breaking down on the side of the highway in the middle of no where... but I have a plan!
The plan is to drive from Mexico to Monterrey to Hueco Tanks to Colorado to The Tetons to Squamish, BC, Canada. This is phase ONE of the adventure which also includes various stops along the way to visit cherished friends! Phase TWO begins with a rotation in passengers and an east bound highway haul taking me all the way to NEW York City! Hmm. Big plans, big plans.

As of this current instant, I am pimping my ride in the lovely capital of Mexico, Mexico DF. The 1972 classic has recently aquired a BRAND NEW Engine! This will help the road worries. Next comes a new stereo, new tires, new roof rack and swave interior along with all the "just in case" tools...

Driving around in this big city looking for spare parts and sincere help (one of the biggest in the world with approxamately 29 million people) has been made possible by the lovely Pablo Serrano and his family.

Even though my calluses from climbing are falling off due to the lack of use from a broken finger, I continue to press on in hopes of coming face to face with the lavish and granduer rock that awaits me and my compadres in this wild adventure north then east.

Keep checking the blog for pictures, links, travel advise and a good ol' adventure story of a girl and her dog!