Off the Path: A 2nd Cali Matterhorn Attempt

It started out like any other trip, but with a twist, we had been here once before on a therapy/recon mission last October. It started out pretty basic that time, we were looking for a place to go that neither of us had been to - after staring at a map for a few minutes it came to me, why not retrace the steps of Jack Kerouac from the 1958 novel "The Dharma Bums"? I remembered reading about a certain summit in the California Sierra's, the Matterhorn, and had longed to venture into that same apparently inspirational wilderness ever since.

Incredibly Tame Deer

Click for a Full Slideshow from 2009

So, we lit out from Reno early one fall afternoon driving a few hours south on the 395 to the town of Bridgeport, and turned up into the Eastern Sierra about 15 more miles to Twin Lakes parking for the trailhead at the Mono Village Resort. We didn't have much, this trip was meant to be basic… Kerouac had done it in the 50's with minimal food and sneakers. We spent the afternoon lazily trudging up the path enjoying the almost tame wildlife, we had no real goal just get out of town and relax in the wilderness, but as the sun went down the wind picked up and we decided to find some shelter rather than pass out under the stars. (We hadn't brought a tent.) We found a nice cave perfect for the two of us and tarped up the end to keep most of the wind out, Zach & I learned how to rough it together back in the day and have no problem improvising when the situation calls for it.

Fall Aspen, White & Pine

The next morning we awoke to the winter seasons first snowfall, it was a beautiful sight seeing the aspens gold mixed with the white and pine. We decided we had gone far enough due to our rations and my mesh footwear, and retreated back to the lakes amidst the dense yet softly falling large flakes, a perfect mascot for this gentle early storm.

The Cave

That was then, this is now, we're starting from San Diego. After nine hours in the truck we stocked up on some last minute supplies in Bridgeport, made our way back into the Sierra and paid the $10 parking fee for the resort. This time we were prepared, plenty of cold weather gear, proper footwear and food for three days.

We had done our research as well, although finding beta for this particular climb had not proven easy… I hadn't found our actual trail on any maps and it seemed most attempts were from the South side. The Matterhorn, a member of the Sawtooth Range, was part of the Northeastern border between Yosemite Nat'l Park and the Humboldt-Toiyabe Nat'l Forest. We had a Tom Harrison map of the area, it had been enough for us to identify the trails on our previous mission so that would be our guide once on we got started. I'd also been reacquainted by supertopo.com, this sites High Sierra information proved that this mountain was not only real, the North Arete (5.7) was now a regular destination for rock climbers. How tough could it be? Gary Snyder lead Kerouac, an inexperienced outdoorsman, up this summit without any special gear over 50 years ago.

Day 1 Start, Already losing Light

We finished packing & got on the trail, it's always such a nice feeling at the beginning of a hike, the smell of the woods and the sound of the creek, calm and keep me focused on the upcoming climb. We reminisced about how we had mistaken the trail on our last trip, catching the ways we'd been thrown off course before and choosing the other way this time around. After about 20 minutes on a trail that was not ascending as much as we remembered I went up the hill (off trail) to hopefully intersect our intended path, it wasn't there, we had been on a separate path that paralleled the lake. Zach turned around and I proceeded to bushwhack-traverse about 20 minutes back across the steep hill till I eventually was back on the trail, pausing for a few minutes to wait for Zach. Once again the universe has spoken, never underestimate, stay focused.

 Once back together we made great time up the Horse Creek Trail switchbacks taking moments once and a while to snap shots of the shrinking lakes and surrounding solitude. It leveled off towards the first valley where you cross into the Hoover Wilderness and the daylight was dwindling, we were making great time since the sun wasn't heating us up and the mosquitoes would only attack if we stood still. We passed the cave, our refuge from last time, and continued past a nice patch of woods which was our original goal… we were feeling so good and energized we figured why not make it to the spot JK mentions at the end of the boulder field, "A dreamy meadow, pines at one end, the pond, the clear fresh air…" - we knew it was up there, and the climbing guide recommended if we were camping we should stay there - this was about the time my friend, and longest camping partner, realized the map was no longer in his pocket.

“Pretty soon we got to the top of the part of
the trail that was a trail no more...” -J. Kerouac

 Neither of us seemed to care that much, we'd both studied Google earth and that actual map so much it seemed we had things under control. Lots of things went through my head, there were quite a few cars in the lot I thought maybe we'd run into another party. Or, perhaps a nice hiker would find it and see us on the trail the next morning, anyway we'd come too far and knew that we would have a great time with or without a map.

Beyond our intended 1st nights site begins that famed boulder field, where Japhy Ryder taught his wilderness protege about "ducks," the trail indicators, stacks of rocks placed on top of certain boulders by other climbers to keep one going in the correct direction. We headed into the darkness following the ducks up and away from the creek, and the uphill became more challenging. We knew the general direction, up, but could not see the landmarks we were aiming for. Our desire and enthusiasm overtook our skepticism & logic, we missed the crucial right turn that would have lead us towards our goal.

Here's a pic we took on our way out, as you can see the "ducks" on the rock (bottom right) indicate the turn, but a path does keep going up for a bit. We spent about ten minutes building a wall and stacking more ducks to hopefully help us the next time we come up in the dark.

Our mistake

Up we went, convincing ourselves that we were still seeing the ducks every few yards, I was leading the way with Zach's encouragement. We were leaping from large boulder to large boulder through a scree field, up a 45º slope at night, with a headlamp and full pack… I started to doubt our ascent but continued on since I'd just made out some solid vertical rock not far ahead… we were hoping for a place to pitch our tent till the morning came, or at least get a view from. After about 20 minutes of scrambling between snow & rock I'd found no suitable camp, we continued up along the cliff. We found another refuge, this one was useable but not very comfy, and we were nowhere near water (we weren't out but didn't want to start rationing already).

Being near water, although it has the tendency to breed bugs, is usually a happy place to bed down for a night. The trail itself, until we took off on our own, usually stays near the creek. We could still hear it flowing down below, and I was tired of this climbing. Originally we'd figured "get the uphill out of the way as much as we can tonight, sleep in tomorrow." but now we were looking for comfort, and safety. It was pitch black, the moon had set. 

We climbed a bit farther and the rock, although getting more solid, was also getting steeper and not helping our cause, we took a chance...

I stepped away from the cliff and onto the scree, immediately sliding down a few inches. 

Scree field we crossed the 1st Night

I found my balance, and took another step, I was making ground. I wasn't heading back, the idea of going down that slope was not pleasant, damn near scary, so now I'm heading up the valley and the sound of the gurgling stream was getting closer. I made sure Zach was cool, which he was, and sped up taking large sliding steps across & downhill in the fashion JK described when Japhy was bounding down from the summit.

We came to the east bank just below a snow patch and continued up the creek and above the creek (at times the water would run below the rocks that were the trail) till a slippery looking cascade blocked our path, there were trees up there and what we hoped was a lake :) After a few more minutes we discovered a small pond and searched for a place to put our tent… we were starving so once the site was determined we made some tea & campers meals. After relaxing for a bit I retired into the comfort of my sleeping bag for the night.

Reflections, Zach Lyon

The next day we woke up to a beautiful morning, and I found my way to a rise overlooking the valley we had traveled through the night before for some mild yoga. I later found out Zach had awoken and taken some pictures of sunrise.  The skies were clear and the wind had picked up a little, our plan was to leave the overnight gear behind in the tent and take day packs with our fishing gear to the summit.

Morning Do, Zach Lyon

We had some oatmeal with fruit and started uphill, meandering with the stream looking for any life indicating the possibility of the alpine trout lunch we were hoping for… there was none, we kept hiking up eventually joining the trail. Once again we were graced with the surreal experience of walking over the creek, the glacial melt was strong and although we could hear the flowing below us it was rare we could peak through and actually see it.

Basecamp

Eventually we came to the joining of two valleys directly below what we hoped was the Matterhorn, and what seemed like the last alpine "lake" with any depth. I dropped my line in and after about 15 minutes gave up since I hadn't gotten even the tinniest nibble. When I stood up my camera fell into the pool, I fished it out of 12 inches of water after about 10 seconds and immediately extended the lens and emptied the removable parts from the chassis. Zach advised that I tie it to my pack, in the dry air with a little jostling in the sunshine who knows, maybe it will work again.  I was happy he had his camera to back my dumb ass up.

"There is no way I'm dragging
anyone up that without gear."

An hour later it started working again, Canon PowerShot SD750 takes a lickin' and keeps on clickin' (I can't help myself).

On the Glacier

We continued up the ridge surveying the "Matterhorn" from every perspective, it seemed hopeless without gear to try it from the North or East, we were hoping that once we hiked up the valley glacier there might be an easy way up… if that didn't work we would continue up the valley till the end and hopefully find a path to the ridge top which could lead us back around to the Matterhorn. Our fingers were crossed, I stayed on the rocks on the edge of the glacier and Zach used his traction enhancers (YakTrax) and walked on the year round ice. We got quite a ways away from each other, the reality of how big what we were attempting to tackle was setting in, I could still see him but he seemed so small & far away while the mountain loomed even larger & further behind him.

Entering the Glacier (Paths)

Additionally we were walking on this magnificent melting ice block, and enjoying the various features that are part of the summer melt. I was careful not to get too far away from the rock just in case a crevasse was hidden under the crust. This time we could easily see the naturally formed ice luge's running fast with the rapid melt, rocks would fall and carve their path in the surface giving my feet something on the snow to grip.

4th class approach
to Yabyum Chute

The most amazing part of all, huge, more flat than round boulders from who knows how long ago had tumbled onto the white field from the valley walls and as the snow would melt underneath and around them it would create a pedestal supporting this table above the snow.

Rocks on Melting Pedastals

After about an hour we neared the end of the valley and met for some lunch, I had been surveying the upcoming terrain and decided a certain chute looked passable with a little patience and a lot of perseverance, we made our way to the base of the wall and started climbing…

Our Path: "The Yabyum Chute"

Unstable is one word I'm using to describe the area, slippery, rough, delicate and unpredictably harmonious are a few others. Every rock, pebble and grain of earth was balanced in such a perfect way that would sometimes allow our passage, and other times just disintegrate beneath or grip.

I kept climbing, he paid close attention for falling rock, we had "tested" a larger boulder and found out how easy starting a rock slide could be. Rather than wait he found a more comfortable path the next chute over. After some more traversing and climbing up the valley wall we joined up and debated our situation, going down seemed as crazy as continuing, and going up seemed hopeless.

Test Results:
Rock stability = Fail
Zach's reflexes = Pass, and then some

I asked him to let me survey one last route, he obliged and I soloed about 50 feet of loose sharp red vertical rock, it was the hardest unprotected climbing I'd done, the fall would take me on scree to the bottom IF I could stay upright. Zach's words to me as I was cresting the vertical section, "Today's not a good day to die," made up my mind, he was right, if this didn't prove worth while it was time to retreat as safely as possible. When I looked around the rock I saw a reasonable path angling towards the summit field - we were almost to the top of the ridge!

2nd pitch, 5.5 Solo

4th pitch, 5.7 Solo

I conveyed what I'd discovered and he proceeded up the same vertical insanity, made it with no problems and we both carefully finished the "Yabyum Chute" ascent together… we were elated to be so close when just 20 minutes prior we had almost backed down. Continuing up the rock field we found ourselves standing at the head of the valley on a summit similar looking to the Matterhorn but clearly not the top, there was a higher summit along the ridge to the northwest.

Crux

Original Summit Log,
July 12, 1964

We snapped a few shots and continued on, it was after 6pm and we weren't positive of our way down… yet we were determined. Down the ridge and back up around more snow and to the next summit, and once again we felt diminished next to the next summit on the ridge, which was even closer. We scrambled over just to realize that the last one was the highest of all, so back we went and I scoured the area for the summit log. I found it amidst the rocks in a thick aluminum can, the first entry was from 1964 and had been placed by the Sierra Club, we were proud to scribble our names alongside the recreation pioneers from almost 50 years ago… until we read the cover.

Looking West

We had climbed Twin Peaks, 12,323 feet above sea level, the higher of it's more significant twin to the Northwest, Matterhorn Peak, 12,279 feet.

The Matterhorn, from Twin Peaks

Right.

Spiller Creek Canyon,
from Twin Peaks Summit

What. Really?

I dug deeper into the tired old journal and found more entries, In 2007 Anne & Dean from Modesto wrote "Thought we were climbing the Matterhorn, oh well, beautiful view!" and in 2004 the Lehman's from Tucson, "Twin Peaks? So where's the Matterhorn? Hell of a trail, gorgeous day."

Whatever, we have no map so we decided to sort this shit out back in civilization. We had just worked our asses off and still had no idea how to climb that mountain, damn Kerouac for not including better directions and maybe a map in his masterpiece.

Jumping between the rocks

No way seemed logical back to camp, and we needed to get there since we only had day rations and attire with us. Of course we had headlamps but we weren't ready for an overnight. I had studied the map and was still going on the idea that dropping down off of the ridge would bring us into our valley. Every way down we scouted had too much snow and potential cliffs, even the one we had come up. We wandered across "It-Doesn't-Matterhorn Ridge" past that spot and found potential a few chutes over. It seemed to have a snow-soft landing connected to a trail at the bottom leading in the direction we were heading, and no visible drop-offs :| OK then, my words to Zach, "If you have a better idea I'm all ears." He understood, we both did, it was getting dark and if we had any hope to get back tonight we needed to move, and down was at least progress.

As the sun continues to set,
we race across this ridge
hoping for an easy way down.
(courtesy Zach Lyon)

Coming Down

I started sliding down the scree on my ass, Zach chose a different path a bit over from me and we both took our time sliding down the "Seren Dip," aptly named since we considered our success a fortunate accident.

We arrived at the top of the snow pack and still had quite a long way to go. Zach chose the snow path with his fancy YakTrax, which he later mentioned didn't help very much. I only trust rock and found my protection by holding the cliff along the glaciers ledge - it was cold and wet but reassuring to have that handrail helping out.

Sometimes you get that perfect angle

The Seren Dip is Steep

Once to the bottom of the white stuff the darkness had set in and I couldn't see below to our exit - I wasn't sure if this chute was actually going to bottom out or turn into a cliff… I hate dusk, it always plays tricks on the eyes. I needed to see down, I looked over and like a Jenga game, pulled that one piece that set the entire slope moving - I was safe on the bedrock - after a minute or so the dust settled and because it was now brown from dirt I could see our slope gradually become that safe snowy field at the bottom I'd originally seen.

Pink & Snow

We continued down along the rock until the snow became navigable and started towards the trail, it was over yet another boulder field. We followed that path in the snow until it dropped down east of our destination towards Cattle Creek, the canyon next to ours.

Found the Trail we
saw from the Summit

It's now pitch black, and the cold was starting to set in. We were still physically fine but stayed humble, we pushed forward and continued curving west along the descending ridge line. This went on for an hour at least, every time we would crest another ridge we hoped to see our valley, instead we saw more fields of boulders via the freshly risen moon.

Moonrise over the Sawtooths, Zach Lyon

I think to the untrained eye this situation would look pretty bleak, but with a little extra light from Mother Nature I started to see the good around us. I had plenty of food, an extra bottle of water and an emergency blanket - I could find a shelter if I got tired and wait till it got light. I hadn't seen anyone but my buddy for 2 days and I was in the middle of High Sierra Splendor, I just kept vigilant against loose rock when moving and enjoyed the cool fresh air. I'm not sure when I'll be this far from anything again, and I was enjoying it.

Zach had wet boots, minimal warm clothes and dwindling water, (of course I would have shared) - if need be we could make a fire, but he was set on making it back that night. I agreed but had a bad feeling about our final descent, remember that scree field we dealt with the night before? Well this morning I'd examined that area and discovered that most of that scree was broken off from steep cliffs lining that entire eastern side of our valley. He maintained confidence, and I followed content with his belief, we crested our 3rd rise and knew our valley was below... we just weren't sure where in the valley we were over, or what was below.

Trees are a good sign, they need soil to grow and soil can be hard to come by in steep rocky areas. Larger trees need a plentiful water supply to thrive so it was very reassuring to see a few big trees below us on the slope - trees can also indicate that the terrain has additional features like brush or logs, all of which can help you regain your stability in an accidental situation which thankfully never happened. Zach sniffed our way down the grade till we hit some scree, and I jumped in for a nice slide since we'd just determined the floor was in site and our next stop was water.

These trees seemed familiar, the entire valley felt right, I remembered taking that ridge line after I dropped my camera... this was the slope that had been on my left, I was very excited, when we hit the bottom I dunked my head in the creek and drank that fresh glacial melt straight from the tap, we had made it... our tent could be an hour down but we'd recognized some skinny cascades and knew the hard part was done.

Twin Lakes

We made it back to camp too exhausted to do anything but remove our boots and toast our success. We'd toted some Crown Royal up the path, it had been a very long day and it was time to relax under the stars. The next morning we slowly packed our gear and found our way down the trail, paying close attention to each and every feature of the valley walls verifying things we had only guessed at in the dark.

Hiking in the dark raises awareness, but should be approached with caution. We were forced to use memory, logic & instinct to navigate this area and although we still haven't stood on the California Matterhorn, losing oneself in the High Sierra promises adventure every time.

Zach's parting words, "That mountain's not going anywhere man, we'll do it next year." 

I wonder if I can wait that long.

Below is the full slideshow, click to view full size versions with Google map locations.

Video & Editing, courtesy Zach Lyon | Music: Fearless, by Pink Floyd

A Long Travel Day to Crete

Here we go, the final chapters of “Living the Dream”, or LTD as we’ve nicknamed it. I discussed the origin of this abbreviation with my closest friends, since it was with them that I originally coined the phrase. One insisted that he brought it with him from a friend who used to state it back home, the other thinks he may have come up with it... I’ve said it before, damn my twenties and all of the lost memories! I don’t think we’ll ever truly remember exactly where it came from, but one thing stands true: I owned it for myself, this blog being an extension of me, and have now publicized it as my own creation since I was in fact living my dream - whilst before my cohorts and I would just visit it on vacations from our daily grind. What’s amazing is that so many others out there utilize the phrase for themselves, including the abbreviation. Within the Twitter world #LTD has been trending for years, and probably will be forever. Google it and you’ll find it’s not just a popular blog title, people use it to describe their fantasies around the world. The best creations are usually taken which just reiterates how great of an idea it is in the first place, c’est la vie. I’ll never stop living my dreams individually, but I have stopped living it constantly which is why these final chapters have been so hard for me to write. In a way I’m putting my childish obsession to bed for hopefully someday my own son to awaken, and realize he himself can do whatever he puts his heart to. I’m now taking on a new challenge, a purpose other than make money and have fun. I’m living a life that has so far been an adventure, and I think will be one constant state of discovery for the rest of my days; Fatherhood: Our son is due to arrive sometime in May, roughly two months from now, and although I’ve been procrastinating finishing this project since returning from our honeymoon in August it’s time I do so. I don’t foresee myself all that concerned with this former life of mine once Junior arrives, and I’m guessing my inspiration will be towards new goals for self satisfaction.

Returning Scooterini

I left off with our last day on Santorini, it was simply supposed to entail us traveling from our Villa back to the port, jumping on a ferry to Heraklion, Crete, and finding our way to an all-inclusive resort on the Libyan Sea. The day started with my wonderful new wife bringing me breakfast in bed, exactly the motivation I needed to finish our packing. She had enlisted the help of our hotel to get her back to the port, while I strapped on as many bags as I could fit onto the scooter for one final ride, it was time to return it. We bode farewell to our friends and I made my way back down to the islands main harbor. I arrived with time to spare and into the ferry office to confirm our tickets.

The truly disappointing part is, I've done this before. Pretty much every country in the world, except the grand ol' U.S of A works in military time... We'd missed our ferry, apparently it left at 1:25 AM, about 10 hours prior, and since we'd missed it our 60 Euros was wasted. I promptly dropped another 100 Euros on a second pair of tickets which would not be departing till 17:55, about seven hours later. I sat down at a cafe awaiting my wife’s arrival, and wondering how we would kill time till our ferry arrived. When Dorothy met me her only disappointment was the lost savings, she had worked hard to find that discount fare and it was all for naught, we grabbed a few beers to take the edge off and pondered our next move. We decided that staying at the port would be the most financially guilt free option, although this was a honeymoon we were still traveling on a budget, a budget we had already seriously gone over with our first move of the day. Leaving the port would cost money, and then returning would cost more money.

Thira Port

The port was was boring, extremely hot and not very scenic - we did our best to make due. Our scooter rental agent agreed to store our bags while we wandered the area looking for shade and observing the various ferries coming and going. Our main focus was to stay out of the sun, and hydrated - we joked about my prior travel errors, the big one being that missed flight to Korea 18 months earlier... a trip I’d packed for weeks prior to eventually making the same mistake between AM & PM. One would think I’d learned a lesson.

The heat was pretty unbearable, so we went to the ports edge where we found a small cave next to the water, and I jumped in. Rinse, repeat, every hour or so we’d wander back to a shop and fill our water bottles... and then back to the cave to cool off. It was the opposite of the dreamlike state we’d been floating in since arriving in Greece, but we didn’t have a choice, and we knew that once we toughed it out we’d have comfy seats on a pretty quick boat to our next island. At least we were able to swim... finally our ferry, the “Flying Cat IV” arrived and we were able to board. This was our first experience with a hi-speed hydrofoil style ferry, and after waiting all day all we wanted to do was get on with our trip.

Flying Cat IV

Getting off of Santorini was just the beginning, we still had some complicated traveling to do since public transportation was not very active at night on Crete. Three hours later we arrived in the capitol city of Heraklion, hustled a few block to the bus station and sorted out our next move. We had to wait just under an hour to catch a bus to Rethymno, an hour ride to the east and only half of the way to Plakias, the closest village to our final destination. We found out some more disappointing news, the next bus servicing that area wasn’t till morning - if we were going to make it to our already paid for resort that night our only hope was to find a taxi. Awesome. We got dropped off at the Rethymno Bus Depot and made our way to what seemed like a cab stand, unfortunately the only taxi we saw was already taken but we still asked him if he could call us another.

Now the story turns around - I knew you were waiting.

He could not in fact enlist the help of a fellow cab driver, we were apparently going way off the beaten path. After a short conversation with his current passengers they obliged that the American honeymooners could join them to their drop-off point which was a short distance, and on the way to ours. We found out our co-passengers were Germans, and after a brief exchange of pleasantries they were dropped off at their hotel and we turned south starting up the ancient volcano/mountain that is Crete. Our driver was taking an obscure path, and we started to realize this guy seemed a little nuts. He was chain smoking cigarettes and driving as fast as possible, I just kept my eyes on my compass verifying we were heading in the right direction. He was taking back roads, which I’m usually a fan of but not necessarily this late at night in completely unfamiliar territory. But whatever, we were getting an OK deal, 30 euros for the one hour ride - and honestly we didn’t have much choice. Twisting, turning, zipping through the smallest villages past countless monasteries and farms, it really was an amazing ride. After 45 minutes he found a few “friends” we guess, hanging out on a porch, so we stopped. He gestured for us to get out, which was shady as hell but we didn’t want to offend and so far, other than some crazy driving, he hadn’t steared us wrong yet.

After Shot #1

His friends had set us up with some chairs, and immediately he retrieved a clear bottle of what we found out was “Especial” - a Greek Liquor, and several shot glasses. The Greeks, as we’re finding out, are tremendous romantics, and celebrate love at any opportunity. So we toasted to our new marriage and did our first of several shots. Our taxi driver then disappeared, and drove the cab out of sight? This freaked me out since our luggage was in the trunk, but apparently he was blocking the road and needed to keep it clear. All of this was getting explained to us by a man name Stafylos, the proprietor of this establishment who spoke near perfect English having attended NYU in his youth. Our driver returned and we probably did three more shots each emptying the “Especial” having toasting to everything from this serendipity, to the weather. And then, just like that, after handshakes from each of the older men, we were off back into the night with our driver bummin’ more smokes from me and seemingly re-energized after the shots.

I know what you’re thinking, and trust me we were too, but we were at his mercy praying that our karma would carry us through this one. He made one more stop, apparently looking for another place to celebrate, this place was almost dark and from what we could tell the inhabitant had recently broken a leg, so we did NOT do any more shots. (We were already pretty buzzed, and sure our driver didn’t need any more) Our ride crested the mountain and began its descent down to the north side of the island towards Plakias. (from this vantage we could see the African coast twinkling in the distance) More winding down crazy guard-rail-less roads high over deep what appeared to be bottomless ravines. About an hour later we took a quick run through the village where his mother ran a gyro shop hoping for some food, but sadly everything was closed for the night, so we went over one more hill finally passing through the gate of the “Kalypso Creten Village” - our home for the next seven days. We paid our driver and thanked him for the perfect end to a long day, checked in, scarfed down our courtesy plate of food (the kitchen had prepared for us knowing we would be arriving after it was closed) and collapsed onto our bed. It was time to end this day, we would explore our first all-inclusive manana.

I’ve opted to share this as it’s own blog post, and apologies for the lack of pictures. As you can guess pulling out the camera was the last thing on our mind most times, we were moving too fast and more concerned with protecting our electronics than actually using them. More to Come!

Santorini Beaches & Wine With the Cooks

Boarding the ferries in Greece is crazy, there isn't much organization. 

They just keep everyone back till the boat is almost tied to the dock and eventually the sea of oncoming people collides with the stream of passengers and vehicles exiting the vessel. Somewhere along the way we showed our ticket and were directed to a concierge that provided our key, and showed us to cabin #157. It was much nicer than we had expected, on the front corner with windows facing fore and port, we immediately discovered even the shower was awesome and washed Athens off of our weary bodies.

I hadn't traveled like this, my bag was not my backpack, we were both rolling luggage and checking in as tourists before doing anything else. Of course I still perceived everything as a backpacker, so I was curious how all the backpacks with sleeping pads that boarded the ferry with us were spending their night. When we explored our floating hotel I realized it was really more of a floating Hostel, the backpackers had rolled out their sleep systems in the hallways, under stairways, pretty much everywhere hoping for a night in AC. These ferries had only topside outdoor amenities and focused on accommodating indoors, very cool that they encourage this type of passenger, they paid about a third what we did for a ticket. (I was still pretty happy about that shower.) We familiarized ourselves with the ship's layout and made our way back to the cabin, it was time for a little sleep.

According to the intercom, the boat had docked briefly in Milos and we were departing again. The color streaming through our thin curtains was enough to roust us out of bed, and onto the deck. We took pictures of the rising sun and our approach to "Thira" (the ancient volcano now known as Santorini, the Jewel of the Mediterranean) - the views were amazing and knowing we would be above these bright red cliffs most of our stay we milked our vantage for the maybe once in a lifetime brilliance. Our ship motored into the huge crescent that is the Santorini group of isles, between the northern tip of the main island, and Thirasia, one of the smaller members. The white buildings of Oia seemed surreal perched on the cliffs reflecting the early golden light. We continued to experiment with our camera snapping shots in every direction as we trolled past the center of the caldera, it's hot springs and steam vents evidence that this only erupted 3500 years ago.

Eventually we made our way back below deck for some tea and packing, it was time to vacate our quarters and make our way through the disembarkation chaos onto our home for the next three nights. We rolled our bags down the gangway and I immediately knew what I wanted to do for transportation: Scooter! This island had mass transit but not frequent enough, for 15 Euro/day I could have my own wheels, Budget Backpacker Jason had departed with the ferry! It was time for some practical fun, our only challenge was getting our luggage up the steep hill, into the main town and delivered to our Villas. Rena's Villas to be precise, we obtained an island map from our rental agent and found a cafe for my baby to wait - our plan: she would enjoy a coffee while I took the first load up the hill.

Ferry Port

She blew me a kiss as I putted away, I was feeling weighed down wearing a 50 pound duffel on my back and a backpack on my front, yet the little red scooter kept on truckin' up the switchbacks. Sometimes larger vehicles having an even harder time climbing would pull over for me to go around and after ten minutes we (the scooter & I) were looking at the amazing view from the top. It made me think of Dorothy, Shit, Dorothy! I verified on the map that I needed to keep going north, made it into the town and started looking for signs. I continued to look for signs and ask around with no luck, after almost an hour away from my love I gave up and found an abandoned house to stash the luggage in, I needed to bring her up the hill so we could figure out where this place was together.


Once reunited with each other, and our gear, we (Dorothy, the scooter & I) made our way into the center of town. Trying to navigate safely with all the luggage was impossible, Dorothy chilled with the bags under a tree while I continued to look around with no luck. I searched the village of Fira up and down several times, hit back roads and asked every taxi driver and concierge I could find during the "siesta" portion of the day. I had lost the paperwork I'd printed stateside that contained the contact info, so an internet cafe gave me some sight, but not a tangible address!

When we finally found an attendant that understood our English she contacted Rena's to come get us, she shared that they usually instruct their guests to call when they get to town, they don't usually direct people to them as it's so difficult to find. Right, we had gotten the reservation from the friends we were meeting, and had never corresponded directly with the Villa's figuring "How hard could it be?" About three hours from arriving on Santorini we were picked up & ferried to our Villa's, checked in with a glass of white by the pool waiting for Nora & Roy who were arriving from Paros - Dorothy's college roommate and her new husband were touring Europe for their honeymoon and we'd coincided our Santorini time.

Our Villa

I was really starting to appreciate a certain part of college, a part I rarely remember, pledging Phi Kappa Theta. My Junior year I became a Fraternity Brother, and that membership required I know the Greek alphabet. 

Wine Run

Learning that meant I could read here, and I couldn't help myself, I felt like I was six trying to sound out every character I could decipher. Dorothy had no idea, surprising since English is her second language - the character names usually were how they sound so I could take what was described to me and hopefully find it on a map, or a menu.

Share the Road

I was explaining this to Nora & Roy at dinner, we were pretty fired up having intercepted each other so far from home. They had arrived earlier and after briefly catching up, Donia & I checked out the sunset while they unpacked and got cleaned up. Before dinner the four of us downed some incredibly cheap wine and made our way to Dionysus, a traditional taverna, and after a few more carafe's of Santorini White we were plotting our next move. We wandered the narrow streets during the high part of the night and eventually got spit out on the western edge looking down and across the caldera & the Aegean Sea, mostly entranced by the lights up this side of the cliff.

This place was all color & energy, everyone was so enthusiastic and happy, usually eager to answer your curiosities and helpful if you were confused - really in Vacation... actally Honeymoon-land were we expecting something else? They coupled things like the historic Donkey rides & hand-made crafts with fresh fish & veggies to create the traditional Mediteranean ambiance that we had come here for.

We strolled back towards our Villa stopping by the crowded Murphy's Pub before returning home, a few more hours of sillyness and what will always be remembered as "The Hat Party," we finally called it a night promising to get up early for our self-guided island tour.

Today is July 18, 8 days married, 4 days in Greece, 2nd day in Santorini, we woke up and the Cook's had already handled their transportation by renting a 4-wheeler, awesome. We stopped by a market to grab supplies for lunch, you know, basics like feta, salami, tzatziki, olives, a few beers :) We were livin' Greek. I was the navigator, a job I enjoy, utilizing my map, compass & road signs to get us to "Kokkini Paralia," one of the unique beaches we planned to see today. We parked our rides and found an interesting sun-dried tomato vendor in the lot, for like 2 euro we could have a bag of these tasty treats I'd never seen sold fresh before. I bought a bag and added it to our lunch menu.

A short hike later the beautiful contrast of red cliffs over blue sea was our reward, we made our way down through the forest of umbrellas and found a comfy spot for the four of us. We'd found the only red beach on the island, and so had most everybody else. The water was refreshingly cool and the red pebble beach was hot, the girls sunned themselves in European fashion beneath the magenta walls. About two hours later we packed our bags and made our way north towards Perivolos Beach, reputed as Santorini's "Best." Frozen cocktails were in order, and would feel better than more time in the sun. Our decision: the "Best" beach could do better, and continued north towards the last village on this side of the island, Perissa.


"Best" referred to the size & population, the beaches on the south-facing shores were all connected creating miles of black-sandy coastline, naturally drawing an attractive Bohemian crowd. We motored slowly past the afternoon dance party eventually coming to the end where a mountain dropped down dividing this side of the island from Kamari. Road end, time to turn around. Our party was going back to the villas, the sun was getting to be too much, an hour at a time in bathing suits on a scooter had worn us out and it was time for a nap by the pool. Some down time was in order since we planned on hitting Oia tonight for dinner.

Navigating the island had been easy so far, so once freshened up we looked at the map and decided back roads would be our best route to the northern tip, things moved a little faster than we liked on the main road. We wound our way north on the outside apron of the ancient volcano keeping an eye out for a nice restaurant. Soon the road was ascending towards a village which didn’t offer much hope so we continued through and began dropping into the crater towards “Ammoudi Bay”. We rounded the corner and discovered several restaurants at the base of a switch backing stairway, we had found Oia’s waterfront and the dining opportunity we’d been hoping for.

“Excuse me sir.. Sir!” A woman was beckoning for me in English, I glanced beyond her up the steep hill noticing a Peugeot perpendicular to the retaining wall across the road. “Can you help us?” She continued to explain that none of her party were very experienced with stick-shifts and they hoped to find help before something bad happened. One wrong move and they could have ended up over the edge, they were between a rock and a drop, not 10 feet behind their bumper the cliff fell into the sea. I obliged and maneuvered their vehicle into a safer circumstance, understanding their paranoia when it comes to driving alien vehicles.

We wandered through the restaurants noticing “reserved” signs on each of the waterfront tables, you see, the sunset was the primary draw at these establishments and we were lucky to find a spot with such short notice. We settled on a tapas place, the cats were mellow on the rocks in front of it. The fable says if the cats, an inevitable sight in Greece, seem well behaved the kitchen cooks have treated those strays with respect, therefore hopefully prepare their food with that same compassion. 

Best Feta Stuffed Pepper EVER!

So many cats in Greece, we quickly learned to appraise their appearance when deciding on a taverna.
 Sunset, Vino, a short hike by the water and we were back on the scooters. (That sunset, by the way, is the image at the top of this blog) We could see Fira, its lights twinking in the distance seemed to spill into the sea. The wind was cool but not cold as we glided through the night along the craters rim, we were heading back for some gelato before stocking up on supplies and heading home. We were living the dream on a Grecian isle, once the scooter was safely parked we drank some Retsina, a traditional Greek drink, and celebrated. 

Aphrodite & Zeus acting
out some tragedy

Our evening ended with the four of us in togas having adopted Greek nick-names, I was Poseidon, my wife Athena. Good times.


The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. — Marcel Proust


I had been day-dreaming, everything today up until this point had been auto-pilot, if one could actually engage that feature on a scooter, or their mind. I was going about 40 mph and the first thing I noticed was the stop sign, it was located about 30 feet to my right.


Time slowed down, I thought "Why is that sign so far off the road?"
And then I thought, "How did the street get so wide all of a sudden?"
And then, "I hope nothing is coming on my left..." as I shifted my eyesight there it was, an enormous "Limo" bus was bearing down at approximately the same speed.
The driver and I noticed each other at the same time and maintained eye contact as we braked, I could hear that squeaky stutter sound large vehicles make when stopping all of a sudden, Dorothy's grip tightened around my waist as I leaned forward and placed my hand on the bus.
We had both come to a complete stop one inch from each other.


Time sped back up, all of a sudden the bus had pulled forward and the door was open, I was getting yelled at in Greek. The bus driver had every right to let me have it in front of 50 passengers, I had made a very serious mistake. Almost throwing us in front of a moving bus had scared my wife as well, as we started back up she enforced the "slower" rule I've become used to on my motorcycles in San Diego, all the way up the switchbacking road to Ancient Thira.


The day had been great so far, we had breakfast by the pool & found a mellow sandy beach down the hill from our place to hang out. The days agenda was simple, check out the sights on this side of the island, seafood lunch, and maybe find a winery. While we were enjoying "Monolithos Beach" it looked like Roy had fallen asleep, and a masseuse offered me her services by showing a sign. I pointed to the cartoon "Foot" and indicated that she should work her magic on my buddy. The "Sneak Attack Foot Massage" was born, and a minute later after his initial surprise, Roy relaxed and enjoyed the entire leg rub she provided.

And then lunch, Santorini style fish are grilled over coals and served whole, what we had yet to discover was the prices were per kilo - which is why everything seemed so expensive, usually Greeks order fish for their whole table and its served on a platter. We were at Mario's, a beachside establishment and ordered the "fish for two", it was seasoned up and fell right off the bone, I was finally tasting this traditional preparation I'd heard about and it was worth the wait. Yeah Greek Food!

Ah yes, we're on top at Ancient Thira looking down at the road we took here after the bus had almost made us memories, or at least very tan vegetables. That was our day so far, beach, food, bus event, now were were here, Santorinis outer high point.

Towards Kamari

I could see back down to yesterdays beaches, Perissa through Perivolos, we had just climbed this mountain on the scooter. We could see where we had come from, the restaurant, the sight of the "event", the airport, and one more beach we hadn't explored, Kamari. We coasted back down the hill and made camp in the shade, the sun has been blazing so I welcomed the break and took advantage of the cliff jumping for an afternoon dip.

We rested here during the hot part of the day but when the sun started to dip jumped on our rides seeking a vineyard with a view. We found the Santo Wines Winery and promptly ordered a flight with cheese to sample as the sun went down, still pretty full from our afternoon fish. The view of the caldera from this sight was incredible, and we over documented it with our Rebel, I think there were 150 shots of this single sunset before I edited down.

We eventually made our way back for a relaxing night in, we'd been going pretty strong and it was time to relax, our boat to Crete was the next day, or so we thought...

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