Fargo, North Dakota

When we got to Fargo we wanted so badly for someone to speak to us like they do in the movie. Well, that didn't happen. Actually, nothing interesting happened at all. We drove in, we found a place to stay and we left early in the morning. I'm sure Fargo is a great place but I couldn't tell you the first thing about it.

All I can tell you is that my uncle and I stayed up way too late drinking and sharing old stories. It was great but we paid the price in the morning and we had a rough go getting back on the road. It's a good thing our next destination wasn't too far down the freeway.

I'm so glad to have my Uncle Dean Bean with me for the trip. He's probably driven more miles than I have so far and it's been really fun catching up with him. He has a quick wit, a great sense of humor and he's been very helpful with planning and navigating along the way.

Oh ya sure, Dean Bean. I suppose you da man, donchaknow, eh!

Oh man, what time is it? Time to drive another 500 miles? Really?

The plains west of Fargo.

Tire Changeover

Wisconsin Dells, WI – We stopped off here for the night. In the morning I performed the closest thing to a roadside repair yet: swapping out the spare tire for this unevenly worn one – located on the front end passenger side.

The van's been pulling to the right since day one. I noticed the tread was a bit worn when I first inspected the vehicle and figured I had better keep an eye on it. It held up pretty good honestly, but I got tired of obsessing over it.

Breaking the lug nuts loose was tough, and getting the spare out from under the van and then the old tire back in underneath wasn't easy, but it was worth it. A pretty simple fix all said and done. Jerry now rolls straight and true and I have one less thing to worry about.

Here's to small victories!

Unevenly worn tread on front right tire. Some feathering/scalloping. Cause?

Chicago Traffic

In Alaska we like to say you have to leave the state every once in a while to remind yourself why you suffer through living there. A trip through Chicago during rush hour is the perfect example. It was awful, what a nightmare!

I was too busy driving to get a decent photo. I promise to do better on that front in the future. This crappy photo was taken not long before we hit the heart of the city and doesn't even begin to do justice to the snarling, bumper to bumper morass we encountered.

One moment we were moving along at a steady clip – life was good – and then all of a sudden traffic came to a standstill. It was so hot, working the clutch was a real chore, and I was convinced the engine was going to overheat.

In the end we made it out unscathed. The silver lining is that I have a lot more confidence in the van's reliability now. The temperature gauge held steady throughout the whole fiasco – probably only about an hour even though it felt like the better part of the day – and before long we had the windy city behind us.

Farewell sweet home Chicago, I'll take the trials of Anchorage and the Seward Highway any day.

Captain Dean Bean

Greeting and Salutations,
Welcome to Elyria, OH. Yippee! Okay, so it's not the most exciting destination. Sorry Elyrians. This place just happens to be where we decided to stop over last night. We made it through Cleveland – actually a pretty cool skyline and a beautiful sunset last night – and figured we had better get some rest. We traveled about 500 miles and that was enough for one day.

Dean Bean took the wheel for most of the drive. He did pretty good for not having worked a clutch in years, and I was able to enjoy the scenery along the way. Not too interesting really, pretty flat but very green. The day was rather hot, over 80 degrees! I haven't felt heat like that since we were in Hawaii in 2008.

We had a little scare when a flashing red light came on in the dash, right behind the temperature gauge needle. Oh no! I got really worried. After a stressful few miles of hawkishly monitoring the needle and a bit of research on my iPhone I had it worked out. Turns out we were just a little low on coolant. That's why dad kept that half-full bottle in the back of the van. Three cheers for Donboy! He always came prepared.

There's no indication of a leak and water's not getting into the oil or anything like that. I'm not sure where it's going to but I topped off the reservoir (just a pint or so) and no more blinking red light. Huzzah! I'll have to keep an eye on that. Overheating is probably about the worst thing that can happen to the van. In such a case, catastrophic engine failure is soon to follow. No worries though, crisis averted.

Today we head for Madison, WI. It's about another 500 miles or so. I've never been to any of the states that lie between here and Seattle, WA so it should be interesting. I'll try to be better about taking photos from here on out.

Peace out,
Bail-Dog

Uncle Dean Bean prepares for the drive.

Captain Dean Bean at the helm.

The Hippie Van

Hey everyone,
It occurred to me that some of you might be curious to see the Hippie Van – as my dad and Debi called it – and to learn more about it. It is a 1985 Volkswagon Vanagon "Westfalia". The "Westy" refers to a conversion from the standard passenger van to the camper model performed by the company Westfalia. It has a pop-top roof that makes room for extra sleeping quarters and a built-in kitchen complete with propane fueled cooking range and a refrigerator. I'll post some interior shots and more along the way. Hopefully there will be none of me conducting roadside repairs (photos appear below).

As you can see from the photos, the exterior is white and not without some cosmetic imperfections. But the van is in pretty good shape overall – inside and out – and is quite solid "under the hood" even though the engine compartment is located in the rear.

I told some of you before that it has an older air-cooled engine. I'm sorry, that was incorrect. It is a Wasserboxer, as they say in Germany, or waterboxer (as in water-cooled). It is a 4-cylinder horizontally opposed engine, 2.1 liter displacement. It has a manual transmission, four-speed plus reverse. So far I've been impressed with its power. Far from being the fastest vehicle on the road, it has demonstrated decent macht and has good pep for such an old rig. I surpassed 200,000 miles on my way to my uncle's house but I believe this particular engine only has about 60,000 miles on it.

I have a tradition of naming my vehicles, usually giving them multiple nicknames that are allegorical or symbolic of their character. It is something that must be earned and not just a label I slap on any old car. Gender plays a role, and I'm pretty sure the hippie van is a boy. So far, I'm leaning towards Jerry (Garcia), Woody, and Bruce. My dad named everything Bruce for a period of time; his cat, his boat (legally named "Bruce the Boat" for maritime registration and emergency purposes), even his goldfish were named Bruce.

I was told it was snowing yesterday back in my hometown of Girdwood, Alaska. A visit to my Facebook account was riddled with comments on the weather, ranging from lamentations to professions of glory. In the spirit of the wintery spring, I leave you with a favorite poem of mine by the great American poet, Robert Frost:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.  
His house is in the village though;  
He will not see me stopping here  
To watch his woods fill up with snow.  

My little horse must think it queer  
To stop without a farmhouse near  
Between the woods and frozen lake  
The darkest evening of the year.  

He gives his harness bells a shake  
To ask if there is some mistake.  
The only other sound’s the sweep  
Of easy wind and downy flake.  

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep.


- Robert Frost

p.s.: Thanks to Patrick Scardina for the phrase "The Spiritual Highway" from the previous post. I stole it from him and he deserves credit. Also, thanks for the kind words of advice and support from everyone. It's been a wonderful trip so far.

The Hippie Van parked in front of my dad and Debi's house in Virginia.

Jerry/Woody/Bruce's good side (pay no mind to the mismatch hub caps).

The rusty side (along the lower side panel). I love the antique vehicle plates.

The Spiritual Highway

Hey Folks,
Well, here we go. Welcome to Bail-Dog's Blog.

I'll be driving my father's 1985 VW Vanagon "Westy" from Virginia back to Alaska. It's a sweet ride and I imagine it will be one heck of a trip. The main objective of this blog is to keep my friends and family up to speed on my progress during this monumental expedition. Wish me luck and keep your fingers crossed for a safe voyage.

The plane ride from Anchorage, AK to Charlottesville, VA was very long, with 2 stops and lengthy layovers in Seattle, WA and Washington, D.C. My flight left Wednesday, May 15 at 4:30 p.m. and I arrived Thursday morning at 9:30 a.m.

I've been visiting with my stepmother Debi for the last two days in Stanardsville, VA. It's been nice seeing the house where she and my dad lived and their cabin in the woods – just getting a feel for what life is like here in Virginia and catching up.

I'll be hitting the road tomorrow morning for my Uncle Dean Bean's (a.k.a. Richard, Dick, Dickie) house in Schenectady, NY. He's going to ride with me for as long as he can take it. I hope he can carry on until Seattle at least. My mother lives in Greene, NY so I'll stop by and say hello to her on the way. I tried to get her to come with me but she has too many responsibilities on the farm and can't be away for very long.

My dad, Donboy (a.k.a. Donald), passed away back in December. He died suddenly and we are all shocked and saddened by his death. He left us too soon and we miss him very much. It's been an emotional trip already and I'm sure there will be some rough spots along the way. I expect it to be a glorious adventure as well, and I am excited to hit the spiritual highway.

I'll spare you all the details of my itinerary and just fill you in as the journey unfolds. Wish me luck!

Cheers,
m@boy (a.k.a. Bail-Dog)

The work shed at the cabin.

Me and Debi.