Gettin’ Our Asses Outa Here
Month Two: Gettin’ Our Asses Outa Here
5/5/2023
Arizona - Utah - Idaho - Oregon
Month Two Done! Ohmigosh! Where’s Charlie Berens when you need him? Don’t mind me and my bowtonk midwest humor….Wow that spiraled. This month was all about gettin’ our butts outa the comfort zone and on the road.
Sedona. The amber ale, obv. The cool, popular, super attractive kid in class that also is nice to everyone. We crushed so hard on Sedona. A whole two breweries (Oak Creek & Sedona Beer Co.), LA-esque crowds & traffic, the lack of showers. Despite that, we stayed a glorious four days. Short rest to regain 2d10 hit die.
Devil’s Bridge
On this month’s vanlife reality topic: ‘gram pics.
Ever wonder about those epic ‘gram pics that make you crave adventuring and traveling. Something like the one above? Here’s the reality. We waited over an hour and half for our turn to take said super epic pic.
Over an hour and a half!
Despite our major crushin’ we left after hearing rumors of an extra busy weekend crowd approaching and in desperate need of showers. Full disclosure, it was mostly due to the crowds. Embrace the stench, my friends.
Flagstaff held showers (for all of us, Leinie included), laundry, and a lounge at a travel center.
Leinie does not and never will enjoy water
Squeaky clean and smellin’ fresh, we made our way to the Grand Canyon just in time for Easter brunch. We meandered along the rim trail, but snow pack and unfriendly doggo rules (but mostly snow pack) kept us from exploring below the rim.
Easter brunch in the making
We met another cool vehicle-dweller, Apocalypse Jane Doe. She dwells outa a badass Lexus suv. You’ll need to forgive me, but expensive car breeds are not my forte. Jake’s eyes were super big if that says anything. His commentary, “That vehicle is sweet.” We must’ve looked hungry, because she gave us a can of onchilada sauce. Foresty Forest anyone??
Keep ‘er moving.
A few suggestions from LA coworkers (thanks guys!), we found ourselves in Page, AZ. Unfortunately the super viral Antelope Canyon was not within our financial means (~$100/person before fees and taxes!). We did see some pretty cool things, hiked along the rimview trail and drank some beers at the Grand Canyon Brewing & Distillery.
Horseshoe Bend
Then we got our butts outta Arizona and into Utah.
Utah. A session IPA if I ever met one. Yes, you sure are pretty. But looks can be deceiving, because on closer look your beer policy made my liver cry. 5% lager, 5% IPA, 5% porter, 5% stouts, 5%, 5%, 5%. Like decaf coffee, or a hooker who only cuddles, what is the point?
Anywho, we didn’t just zip on through. Why? Zion.
Is this even real life?!
The narrows were closed, our permit for Angel’s Landing didn’t make the lottery. We ended up staying six days parked on sweet, sweet, free BLM land. Exploring trails, lounging away, listening to river music, drinking 5% beer and we met Utah Rick and Hazel. A nice long rest to regain precious spell slots.
Then we moved our butts to Bryce Canyon, the land of Hoodoos. Compact and surprisingly lacking crowds. Digestible.
Hoodoo’s galore!
But we woke up to our butter frozen. We were chasing spring north. Butter melts, head north. Butter freezes, head south. Time to get our asses outta here, to lower elevation, warmer temps or both. But where?
Our archnemesis, indecision. It was crippling, my friends.
Our temporary solution while we thought it through was Cedar City, UT. Warmer, plenty of close-to-town BLM land, trails, disc golf and a brewery! Utah, stop playin’. I could’ve lived at Policy Kings Brewery. Want something more than 5%, sure thing, we’ll crack a can (loophole!), Thurs Drag Trivia, yes please!.
Hands down, most beautiful disc golf course I’ve ever seen.
Drinking real beer again gave us perspective and the decision was made. Get your ass outta here.
Hello Idaho!
If God took a piece of the midwest and planted it squarely in the west (real west), it would be Idaho. Straight up an all american lager, drinkable and familiar but almost too comfortable. It’s as if we had never left the midwest.
First pitstop was Twin Falls, or as Jake dubbed it,“the Bigger Anoka”. He couldn’t have been more accurate. We saw some waterfalls and drank some beer. Frolfin left us in mourning for my main man Trevor, hopefully he is chasing foliage in a better place. Then we lost Cole and gained free agent Peyton. I’m not a driver gal, but Trevor left me needing to diversify.
Shoshone Falls
Then we got our butts to Boise. Oh Boise, you do not like the van-dwellers. It was hard to enjoy your attributes when you want us to not stay there. We gave it the ol’ college try. We tried Lost Grove Brewing Co. and did some disc golfing. We discovered your beautiful, flooded river green belt. Leinie and Jake enjoyed real grass since…oh, god how long has it been?? And the best IPA to grace this planet. A moment of silence for the queen of IPAs, please.
Real grass!!
We didn’t set off in the Yellow Submarine for a re-imagined midwest though. So we got our butts moving.
Into the promised land, Oregon.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. So many, oh so many people have herald the wonders and magic of Oregon. More specifically, Bend. We have tried, likely in vain, to hold our hopes and expectations in check. Maybe it was magic, maybe it was a long drive, maybe it was nothing at all. But crossing that border and entering Oregon had both Jake and I taking a big sigh.
The scenery changed, the feeling changed. We spent two nights en route to Bend and then held our breath as we entered the city that so. many. praised. We braced ourselves for disappointed, failed expectations. We stopped at the brewery closest to the camping site we picked. If first impressions matter, Bend is king.
View from our Bend basecamp
Within 48 hours, we had an amazing campsite, a gym membership for regular showers (bye stench), and a brand new city crush (sorry Sedona). It fits perfectly that Bend is where our month closes out, cuz we certainly didn’t get our butts outa Bend for a bit.
One month after ending vanlife, we reflect on our new normal.