The Grampians Australia after a brief storm. Circa 2007.

Hello all!

I wanted to let everyone know that we are still safe and having a great time here in Nepal. The trek was a great success although one member of our party had to fly home due to altitude sickness, we have a sneaking suspicion that John started to develop pulmonary edema before he was able to descend after the pass and I am pretty sure that Charlie crossed the pass with both a bad cold and Giardia! We made it however and after crossing Throng La (17,770 feet) we continued back and finished the circuit in 18 days.

After returning we laid low and rested while the elections happened and although there has been violence in Kathmandu we have been fine here in Pohkara. After the 10th we booked a white water rafting trip that we have just returned from. The 2 day trip was amazing, the guides were wonderful and we all had a fantastic experience. No one was injured but we did manage to completely flip the boat once and get chucked out another time, but other than drinking a lot of river water and probably getting Giardia we are all no worse for the wear!

In two days we leave for Kathmandu and on the 21st we fly out to DC. We decided to move our departure dates up to avoid being stuck in Kathmandu when the election results finally got totalled. So, just to play it safe we are cutting the trip a week short and will be back stateside soon. With that in mind I will not have anymore posts until we get back and I am not going to mess with pictures until then either. The internet here is too expensive and slow to try and upload the trillions of pics I want to show you all from the trek, so that will have to wait.

I have also broken down and finally agreed to join Facebook in order to easily share my photos, so after the 5th of May look for me on that terrible site to see if I have joined yet. There you can look at all the wonderful photos of our trip.

So, until our valiant return to the US of A, have fun, be safe and remember to shake your bootie, and shake it well!

Here are a few pics from the Nepal trek:

Hello everyone. We are now on day five and other than one blister and a few sore muscles I am fairing well. Tonight we will stay at almost 10,000 feet so we are starting to get up there. That is all for now, this internet is expensive so no other details other than I am very happy, safe and having fun in this stunningly beautiful place.

Finally the photos I have been promising! Below are pictures that run from our stay in Hampi (India) all the way up to arriving in Pokhara (Nepal). The next post after the pictures is the long commentary about The Long Haul to Nepal. Enjoy the photos and make sure to check out the next for some super exciting adventure reading. Tomorrow our friends arrive in Pokhara and we are planning on leaving for the trek on the 20th. So, this may be my last post for 20 or 25 days at least. If so, when I get back I will post asap to let everyone know that I am OK.

The temple on main street Hampi (bazaar side of the river). In the background you can see one of the boulder fields we visited regularly.

Hampi is full of pilgrims, boulders, boulderers and ruins. Plenty to keep you occupied throughout your stay.

A ruined bridge, North of the river (aka Hampi Island, aka Hippie Island).

"Main Street", north of the river where we spent most of our time in Hampi.

This shot of the vast boulder fields was taken from the Hanuman Temple. Although this may look overwhelming it only shows a small fraction of the boulders. There are said to be 300 square kilometers of boulder fields in Hampi. If you can, imagine this scene, only the same across 360 degrees and extending to the horizon. That's Hampi.

Because of the way the rock was hewn for use in buildings, there is an abnormal amount of aretes in Hampi that are actually man made. Of course there are also natural ones and here we see John warming upon one of the made by nature variety.

The Goan Corner. Natural (I think) 7b+ (approximately v8). This is a super sick line that is a Sharma first ascent. I tried it. Twice.

Sunset beta.

Here I am on my second and successful attempt at the highball Cosmic Crimp (v3/4). I was really excited to get this send because I did it on our last day which was also a few days after I got food poisoning. I felt OK but still weak and so sending this as my last Hampi bouldering experience was a real treat. The shots below are a sequence of the same problem.

This doggie has the right idea. Man or beast, when midday comes you head for the shade. This is the Baba Cafe boulder; you can see our crash pads behind the pup.

Amy gave me these little climbers for Christmas and here they are sending a sick 5.14a multi-pitch.

Jenni on the beach in Benulim, Goa. West coast of India.

The really funny thing about this scene is that John was looking down at his camera and had no idea that 2 guys and a bull ran right in front of him.

This is a scene that you encounter often in India and it causes an ethical and moral conundrum. On the one hand, your heart goes out to all the people that need help and being someone that is much more fortunate, you want to help as much as possible. On the other hand we don't have much money ourselves and you certainly can not give everyone something, even just a little bit. On top of that, encouraging begging breeds a negative cycle and poor relations with tourists and foreigners, especially considering that beggars target tourists strait away. Some say that if you really want to help it is much better to give nothing to beggars and then contribute a larger sum to a charity when you get home. Others think that as charity to the needy is a part of Indian culture it is only right to participate as well. However, in practice I rarely saw Indians give money to beggars. In the end, I am still torn on the issue. I did give this boy a bit of money because I thought it was the right thing to do after he let me take his photograph (it was taken during a train stop from the window of our coach). I felt bad even taking this picture but I wanted something that really showed the sadness you encounter in India and I think this does a pretty good job.

The entrance gate the the Taj Mahal gardens.

The Taj Mahal in all its glory. These pics are not that great because it was overcast and rainy, but it was still an awesome sight. You can only imagine what it must look like bathed in the red rays of a clear sunset.

Hindi for lawn mower. This is how they cut the grass at the Taj gardens. You can see that the mower catches the clippings and actually works remarkably well. I'm not sure what they do with the poo though.

A typical scene on the gut wrenching bus ride from the India/Nepal border to Pokhara (Nepal).

John pretending to be asleep on the bus ride. I say pretending because even if you actually fell asleep, 3 seconds later you hit a bump so big you can taste your anus. That's true, by the way.

Read on dear explorer, for the full scoop on the 5 day journey into Nepal.

Oh me oh my did we just have a travel-a-thon adventurama, so naturally only an epic post will due!:

After a quick taxi ride to the Margoa train station we hoped on our train to Agra at 3PM, this time with no complications. The ride was going great, it had not gotten too hot and everything was pretty chill. That evening, as John an Jenni attempted to sleep, I stepped off the train at a quick 5 minute stop to have a smoke and when I got back on the coach I found John now awake and surrounded by angry Indians. "Everything all right" I asked with a smirk? "No, these guys are taking the freekin piss" was his irritated reply. As it turns out, this lot had woken him up because his pack was under an adjacent bunk, a space that as far as we were concerned he had every right to use. Well, the group of irate locals sure did not think so and demanded that he move the bag so they could us it to store, in all honesty, what looked like bags of rice. They even tried to move it themselves but couldn't because he had hooked it onto the seat in an attempt to discourge thieves (so I suppose it worked!). We tried to explain that there was no where else to put it and even if there were, hadn't they ever heard of first-come-first-serve? I felt like shouting "WE WERE HERE FIRST YOU DAFFY ASS BASTARD BULLIES AND WE WON'T LET YOU PUSH US AROUND JUST BECAUSE THERE ARE 40 OF YOU AND WE ARE FOREIGNERS!" I decide in the spirit of diplomacy and self preservation I was not going to yell that, but rather go see if there was enough room for the bag under my bunk. In the mean time the guys were trying to get John to put the pack up in his already too small sleeper and he was trying to get the message across that no, I'm up here that bag is not coming up as well. When I suggested trying to get the bag under my cot he shot me an evil look that I would have understood even without his next utterance of "no, it wont fit and there is no way that I am moving that bag!" Just then a police officer that I had happened to have a very nice conversation with just a few moments earlier stepped on the train. Immediately the group started pleading there case figuring that they would of course side with them. What they did not know is that the big softy copper had, in all of 5 minutes befriended me and that he also felt personally invested in the quest help foreigners form a positive opinion of his country. It seems that there was no way that he was going to let this angry mob disturb this boy he happened to know was a very nice lad. I'm not sure what he told them but it did not take long for the group to disperse and surprisingly all the bags that they were so angry about not having enough space for magically found nice nooks to peacefully sit in. Rather, all but one bag. One bag was left, by accident or sheer cheek, sitting right on my bunk! I angrily grabbed the bag and discovered that yes, it was indeed a bag of rice. With a smile and noting the irony, I quickly stored the bag in a nice open space, directly across from John's.

After the lesson in packing the rest of the ride was quite pleasant. We spent the next full day and night on the train and alternated between reading, sleeping, playing cards and mad dashes on and off the train to get a few coveted puffs of a cigarette. On one such foray John, myself and a bunch of other travelers were out on the tracks waiting for the train to begin moving. Soon enough it did and in a rush everybody tried to jump back on at the same time. Of course we bottlenecked and John and I found ourselves hanging off the train by one arm waiting to get in, watching the ground shoot by at an ever increasing pace. Finally we pushed in and found that the cork in the bottle was an elderly gentleman who had plopped himself and his large bail of hay right in front of the door. I could only smile when, as we crawled over him inevitably crushing his payload, he gave us an obvious look of irritation.

3 AM on day 3 seemed to come more quickly than even I (as someone who loves train rides) could have imagined. Agra, the home of the Taj Mahal is touted as one of the more frustrating cities to be a tourist in due to all the scams and constant pestering. At 3 AM however, the station was surprisingly deserted and we found a nice young taxi driver that did not try to overcharge and did not try to take us to the wrong hotel. We had pre booked the hotel but even though Jenni had told 2 people on the phone that we would be in at 3 am, they neglected to tell us that they would not be there to receive us. The driver told us he new a nice place not far so we decided to go and although it was more than we wanted to spend we were all tired, cranky and dedjected and we were splitting the room 3 ways anyhow. The room was not great (understatement) but it sufficed so we caught some shut-eye and at noon went to the Taj Mahal.
As a tourist you have to pay 20 dollars to get into the Taj (Indians pay 1.50) but I had convinced the others that not going would be like traveling to Egypt without seeing the great pyramids. They did not really buy it but humored me and in the end we were all glad we had come. There were lots of people around but venders are not allowed on the grounds and I realised, for me anyway, that when I am not getting hassled the crowds seemed to melt away. This is synergised by the Taj itself, standing in its own splendor, dwarfing the throngs of tourists crowding in its gardens and at its base. Supposedly the changing of the light throughout the day changes the look of the building and the sunset on the structure is said to be stunning. On the one day we were in Agra however, it was raining. No matter, the building is grand in any light. After, we went into the Taj Ganj, the district immediately south of the Taj which has become a bit of a slum. Here we found a rooftop resturant, drank pots of chai and took in the view of the Taj from afar. And the view of the Ganj in the three other directions. Its funny to see the juxtaposition of something so beautiful bordering something so much more terrible and wonder how two things could possibly coexist. The Taj is truely a marker of beauty; one that works to clarify the great contrast that is seen at its boundaries and serves as a catalyst to awe and wonder, as well as heartbreak and sadness. And so we are reminded that we are in India, and that in India the dichotomies of life are much more violently defined than the places we are from. And we remember just how fortunate we truely are.

That evening we packed back up and caught our next overnight train to Lucknow. Agra had turned out to be far better than we had expected and except for getting messed with by two strange guys at the station who would not leave us alone, we actually had a good time in the city. Lucknow was different. I won't go into much detail about the city but our brief glimse of Lucknow (admittedly we did not leave the area around the station) reminded us of everything we hate about India. Packed, poluted, dirty and teeming with people that want your money so badly they will argue with you about what you don't want, the city made us just about go crazy in the first 5 minutes. All the madness also turns you into a person you don't want to be as there is just no way to stay pleasant in the face of so many people trying to get something out of you. With streets packed with so may rickshaws that it is near impossible to cross the street, we hurried to a close hotel and immediately collapsed. The only trips out of the room we made were to eat; we just could not muster up the energy or desire to go see anything else in this hell-hole of a place. I'm sure that we missed out on everything that is great about the city, but exploring was just something none of us were prepaired to do.
That evening, upon Jenni's insistence we left early for the station. I was sick of waiting around for long periods at the stations but we had to find a different depot than the one we arrived at, so I reluctantly agreed. This turned out to be a wise decision and kudos to Jenni, because our ass of a rickshaw driver took us to the wrong station, I think, because he did not want to drive the extra 4 kms down tiny people and oxen choked lanes. Probably after wondering what three white kids were doing at this dung-heep of a depot a policeman looked at our tickets and told us we were in the wrong place. Another rickshaw and another 60 rupees later we were at the correct station and soon on our way.
Upon arriving in Gorakhpur we stayed just long enough to book a bus to the boarder and then on to Pohkara. What we did not realise is that the shysters who convinced us that the cheap public bus was super crowed and that their bus was roomy and nice, did not have a bus at all. We were quickly shoved into a "taxi" that was basically a range rover with no doors and had to sit 4 to a seat built for 3. I had convinced myself that this was only to take us to the real bus, but that was simply wishful thinking. So much for comfort and room. 3 hours later, stiff and cold we made it to the India/Nepal boarder, no worse for the wear but mighty pissed off.

The visa and entry into Nepal proved easy and soon we caught a cycle rickshaw to the second bus depot for the final ride to Pokhara. We were not going to be let off easy, however. Somehow Johns rickshaw driver was really slow, so Jenni and I got to the depot before him. Immediately a group of young guys began shouting at us, trying to find out where we were going. After finding out that our destination was Pokhara, a boy picked up my bag and started sprinting away. Naturally I gave chase, not knowing whether he was helping out or stealing all my stuff, but I think the kid was some kind of Sherpa track star because he booked-it and my bag is anything but light. I finally caught him at our bus as he was loading my bag on and shouting for me to join it because the bus was leaving. As soon as I stepped on to try and make sense of things the driver started to go and I had to yell to get them to stop the bus. I grabbed my pack and tried to explain that we could not leave without our friend nor was I going to leave my bag on a bus that was determined to leave with or without me. If the bus wanted to go that was fine but we would not be on it unless John showed up soon. The boy kept trying to take my bag and load it and only after riping it away from him did he give up and the bus took off. Luckily however, it stopped a short distance down the road and after finally finding John we all ran and caught it in the nick of time.
This last leg of our epic journy was fun, beautiful and terrifying all at the same time. The road to Pokhara is either bumpy as all hell, curvy as all get out or both simultaneously. It also is very narrow in some places and skirts dangerously close to huge ravines. The experience is best described as an 8 hour roller coaster on crack. The view however, is stunning and the people that you meet along the way are amazing. After only being in Nepal for a few hours we already felt more at home and at peace than we had since leaving Hampi. Finally we arrived in Pokhara and took a taxi from the bus stop only to drive around and find out that our hotel was directly across from where we entered the taxi. The driver had not known where it was and even after bringing us back exactly where we started he had the gaul to ask for more than our agreed fair because he had to wait for us while we found him directions and a phone number to call! I could not stop myself from rudely telling him that it was not my fault that he did not know where the hotel was and turn and walk off. It did not strick me until later that if we would have seen the hotel he never would have had a fare to begin with.
We have now been here for only a full day and already the three of us love it. Pokhara is beautiful, remakably clean (after India) and full of friendly people who don't hassle you much. Today we got our trekking permits sorted out and soon the other 4 Americans we met in Thailand will arrive to meet us. Then John, myself and the 4 others (Charlie, Rich, Jewels, and Katie) will be off for a splended 25 day trek around the world's 10th highest mountain, encompassing 250 miles and 15,000 feet of elevation gain. Jenni has decided to stay behind and live in the hotel owned by a friend of the family and plans to do some volunteer work. It should be great fun on all accounts and certainly my most challenging adventure to date. I can hardly wait.

Pictures soon I hope, so check back every once and a while to see if they have posted. I will try my hardest, I promise!

So you are back for more are yah? OK, here we go!

After spending 2 solid weeks in Hampi we all decided it was time to leave. John and my fingertips were shredded from all the bouldering (and a few super sick sends I might add) and Jenni's patience was beginning to wear thin as she does not really climb and the boredom began to really creep in on her. We had long since booked train tickets to Goa and after some research done by Jenni we had agreed upon which town we were going to stay in. We left Hampi on the 6th and spent one night in the relative luxury of a strange but cool Hospet hotel, soaking up the all day electricity and cable tv.
The next morning, bright and early we crammed into a rickshaw and drove to the train station, arriving around 530 am. Our train was supposed to arrive at 630 but turned out to be about an hour late. Now, trains in India usually do OK as far as running on schedule and we have learned that to keep times down they often stop for only 2 or 3 minutes at any given station. With this in mind we did our best to guess where our coach would stop so we could quickly jump on and find our seats. Finally the train arrives and sleeper coach number 6 stops in front of us; not to bad considering we were in sleeper class and on coach number 11. So, we pick up and boogie on down the tracks to find # 11, passing 7. . .8. . .9. . . and then. . . . . . . All of a sudden the class changes from sleeper (what we need) to reserved! Very confused and a bit flustered we send John down the tracks and we head back up frantically searching for SL # 11. All of a sudden the train begins to move and all I could do was jump onto the moving step of a reserved coach in order to not be left behind! Realizing that in my panic I had ditched Jenni I turned around to help her on as jumping onto a moving train is not that easy with a huge backpack, after all. Upon turning I see, to my surprise, someone "helping" her by running with the train, hoisting up her pack and shoving her into the compartment! Well, the maneuver worked and we were both on the train, albeit in the wrong car and without John; not such a big deal, we would just walk down the train until we found our coach. So walk we did, only to find out that we had unknowingly jumped onto one of two cars that did not connect to the rest of the train! Trapped! Foiled again!
Now, we were pretty sure that John would have jumped on as well so that was nothing to be worried about. What we were a bit concerned about was us being on the wrong coach and the fact that we also had John's tickets, which may not seem too serious, but people being thrown off moving trains it is not unheard of in India. We could do nothing until the next stop so we hunkered down onto a vacant bench next to a nice young Indian who soothed our nerves by checking our tickets and telling us that in 2 hours we could get off down the tracks where the train would stop for 15 minutes.
The "reserved" section of the train (basically just cussioned benches to sit on) turned out to be quite pleasant and eventually we did make our way down the train to our proper car, which for some reason was situated after the odd insertion of the two reserved coaches. There we found John who told us that he had in fact been asked for his ticket, and after trying to tell the ticket man what had happened and that yes, he did actually have a ticket, the guy got fed up and just left him alone.
After our glorious reunion we settled into the remaining 6 hours of gorgeous views and fun times found along the track from Hospet to Goa. This was our first experience in sleeper class, which is basically unairconditioned open air benches that fold up during the day and down at night to sleep on. The conditions are not quite spartan, but less comfortable than AC class. In this class however, the windows open so you can actually experience the views and feel like you are actually getting something out of your travels, all for about a third of the price of AC. There is also much more action in sleeper class: more vendors, more travelers, younger people, etc. so it is much easier to get into the groove of things, make friends, if only for 6 hours and generally have a good time. It does get up to 90 or 95 degrees, but that is only for mid-day and what you gain by traveling in this class is well worth any sacrifice and a little sweating.
Upon arriving in Goa we hightailed it from the Margoa station to a small town close by called Benaulim, which, besides all the aggressive vendors, is both quiet and beautiful. The beach here is stunning, accommodation reasonable (actually, ranging from very expensive to quite cheap) and the people are generally friendly. I have to admit however, that this town is sort of geriatric, considering it is a popular vacation spot for older travelers. In fact, the three of us may actually be the youngest foreigners here, but what this place lacks in a party scene it makes up for in relaxation and great food.
It is good that we got to rest here in Goa, because tomorrow we will be leaving on the most epic portion of our journey yet: The Long Haul To Nepal. After an incredibly irritating attempt (and finally success) of booking our train tickets northward, we now have our itinerary, and boy is it a dewsie! We actually were incredibly lucky as we waited too long to book and there just happened to be 14 seats open on the train to Agra on the exact day we needed, of which we booked 3. Other than that the trains a week before and after were full up so if we would have missed this train I am not sure what we would have done. So, here is our plan for the next week:

March 11 - Leave Margoa at 3 PM by train. Spend the next full day/night/morning on the train.
March 13 - 36 hours after leaving Margoa, arrive in Agra at 3 AM. Head to hostel, sleep, wake
up and spend the day at the Taj Mahal. Return to station and depart Agra at 11 PM
on overnight train to Lucknow.
March 14 - Arrive in Lucknow at 6 am. Get room, see movie, check out town or whatever to kill
time until evening. Depart Lucknow at 10 PM on overnight train to Gorakhpur.
March 15 - Arrive in Gorakhpur around 6 AM. After taking care of any last minute India
business, depart Gorakpur by bus to Nepal border town of Sunali. Sort out Nepal
visas and spend the night at the boarder.
March 16 - Depart on the early morning bus for a 1o hour ride to Pokhara, arriving at around 4
PM.

Wheewh! Typing all that actually made me sweat! That's right folks, for the next 5 days Jenni, John and I will be on trains and buses, not quite non stop but bear in mind the stopping that we will be doing will not afford much rest. I meant epic when I typed it! As I am sure many of you eager beavers are wondering how much this monster 1800 mile journey cost us, I shall enlighten you on that note. "It must have been a fortune!" I can hear you saying. Well brothers and sisters, I tell yah, one great aspect of India is cheap train travel and The Long Haul To Nepal is no exception. This trip has set us back, um, around 21 American dollars. That's right, 21 smackers! Can you believe it!?! True, we will be in unconditioned cars for 4 whole nights, but for 21 bucks who freekin cares!?! It is also made cheaper (and more bearable) by the fact that we are taking overnight trains so we are skipping out on nightly accommodation for part of the trip. Pretty amazing me thinks. No doubt it will prove to be yet another amazing adventure albeit a rough one!

It is now the 28th of April and Jenni, John and I have been in Hampi now for about a week. Here is a bit about the journey: After leaving Thailand we flew to Bangalore airport (India) and secured a taxi ride through the government run taxi stand. Now, I would have figured that getting a taxi through a government agency would have ensured a speedy, direct ride to our hostel. In fact, that is exactly what I figured, and I was oh-so very wrong! Either we had been given the most incompetent newbie driver in the whole fleet (possible), or our man was trying desperately to get a commission from a very expensive hotel (likely). Either way, or chauffeur acted like he had no idea where he was going even though the hotel we had booked was very close to the most busy train station in all of Bangalore and we had shown him on a map! Eventually he did get us to our destination, but only after taking us to the same wrong hotel twice, calling for directions twice, trying to get John to call for directions and stopping to ask other drivers (also twice, I think!). I guess the man loves symmetry.

So, around 2 am we arrive at the Royal Lodge Hotel, a place that at its conception was truly a grand place. Time had taken its toll however and it now proved to be a semi seedie budget lodge in an overwhelming part of town. It seemed safe however and as it was cheap, had a cleanish bed, a sometimes hot shower and 24 hour check in/out, we were happy with just being able to lay down. We already had our tickets bought to leave Bangalore that evening so all we wanted was a place to hide out and get some rest.

We spent the day doing just that, making one long foray to the train station to check on our tickets. Soon 10 pm rolled around and we found ourselves at the city station ready to leave for Hospet. Boarding the train proved uneventful and we were soon off, John chatting away with a nice man that had taken a seat next to me. All seemed to be going well, but before long I received a sharp kick from Jenni, one that was strategically aimed to secretly get my attention. However, being a guy, I stereotypically did not get the hint and replied with a loudish retort along the lines of "what! why are you kicking me!?!" Jenni angrily stared into my eyes with a look that could have rivaled the most annoyed 4th grade teacher and nodded downwards while mouthing "look at my hand!" I finally understood and looked down to see that her hand was in the shape of a pistol and she was nodding in the direction of the man sitting to my right. "Ahh" I casually thought, "I get it, the guy next to me has a gun." I resigned my self to not worry because if something was about to go down there was not much I was going to be able to do about it, and anyway, there had to be a better explanation for the blatant display of a gun than "train robber." Come to find out, the man and his "associate" were police officers and as they were both packing their heat in there waist bands, I can only suppose that holsters are not standard issue in India. He was nice though, he even invited us to dinner, which we are all pretty sure was actually a ploy to get John to marry one of his daughters!
Other than that, the train to Hospet was also uneventful and after getting off we quickly picked up a rickshaw to Hampi. It took a couple of days on the bazaar side of the river (basically in town) before we realised that where we wanted to be was on the other side, lovingly termed Hippie Island. We are now staying north of the river at a chill place called the Gopi and are spending our time bouldering, relaxing and exploring the ruins and boulder fields.
Hampi has turned out to be a very cool place, a place where the beauty of India can be seen with far less of what has been called "the dark side" of India. Here, the golden boulders intermingle with ancient temples and green rice paddies, all bathed in the same brilliant red-orange glow of a spectacularly setting sun. Here, pilgrams worship at the granite temples set amoungst the boulders from which they were hewn, while climbers from all over the world worship in their own way, on the boulders themselves. Here, you know that amidst the overwhelming crazy that can be India, you have found something special. Here, you have found something so very worth it, whatever "it" may be.

It seems as if the time has come for us to leave Thailand and head into a new adventure in India. Currently I sit in a hostel, killing time until we leave for Bangkok airport this evening. Form there we fly to Bangalore and the next day we board a 10 hour train to the town of Hospet. This small village is about 10 km from Hampi where we should be staying to chill and boulder for the next few weeks. I'm not sure about the internet access there so there may be a bit of bloggie-blackout for a while. If so, rest assured that we are adventuring it up and having lots of fun. Until next time, always remember. . .

Well boys and girls, Adventure Brad has been very, very busy lately. The past week has been nothing but one adventure after another. I has been a very exciting time in AB's life, and I am more excited to tell you about it than I am to talk about myself in the third person! I even have some photo documentation of some, but unfortunately (actually, fortunately) not all the adventure of which I speak.

Here is my legal disclaimer: Some of these adventures are not for the faint of heart. Some of the adventure descriptions contain semi-explicit language, and some of the adventure photos are a bit naughty. We will also be talking a bit about the male anatomy, which will include both technical and slang terms. Yee be warned! If you think this might be a bit much for you, proceed with caution! You partake in these adventures at your own risk and by proceeding you exempt me from any responsibility for offense taken, pompous attitude initiated or pace-maker failure! In a actuality, I could really care less about offending anyone, hell, this is my blog and you typed in the address, so what I am saying is, don't-a-come cryin' to me if you are shocked by what you see! I didn't force the computer screen to your beady little eyes! However, that last statement does not apply to my grandmothers. Grandmas', if you decide to continue on, well, I'm saying sorry in advance. In another vein, as an anthropologist, I feel I need to seek out, study and document other cultures, and I have done that on these adventures for sure!

So, have fun and here we go. . .!



Adventure #1: Splatter-Ass. (No photos available)

Thailand in general and Ton Sai specifically, has the special knack of giving almost everyone a pretty nice case of the liquid-shits, and AB is no exception. Here, hot-butt is lovingly called the "Ton Sai Tummy" and I have been battling a mild case for some time, which has been an adventure in itself. Now, you may ask why this is considered an adventure at all. Well, in truth, the TST is really synergistic to adventure, because being on an adventure with the green-apple-splatters makes the adventure in question that much spicier! For example, when deep water soloing off a longtail boat with seven other people, what are you going to do if you suddenly need an emergency anal ejection? Well, I think the answer is as obvious as it is unpleasant. After all, how hard is it to dogie paddle away from a liquid-cloud of poo?!? And how far away from the boat do you need to swim before it is acceptably polite to unload? Another consideration, what do you do if the urge hits on a dive, 18 meters down in a rented wet suit? If you slip, do you have to buy the poopie suit off the dive shop? How do you break it to your instructor that yes, in fact, you shot-gunned your neoprenes with the good stuff while both literally and figuratively under pressure? These are the questions and problems one must sometimes deal with while adventuring. Now, luckily, these examples are just examples, I really did not have to preform "The Liquid Stream Stroke" or "Wet Suit Reveal" but you can imagine how even the possibility makes adventuring that much more adventurous. In any case, you can't let these things keep you down, unless they are really keep you down, which does, has and will continue to happen to a few unlucky folks. Currently, after more than a week of cramping and uncertainty, I finally broke down and started a round of antibiotics, and for all those who were concerned, my movements are slowly returning to normal.


Adventure #2 - Cave Walk

This adventure is super tame, so I wont spend much time on it. This cave is a tourist atraction, but pretty cool (literally). John and I found that the flowstones pictured each rang in its own tone when lightly struck, so we stayed there for a while and had an ubernatural jam session. Ten points for anyone who can locate Jenni's ghoulishly disembodied head in the photo below!




Adventure # 3 The Lagoon and After

Warming up a bit! On a rest day the three of us decided to hike to a secluded lagoon that was supposed to be cool. The hike ended up taking the whole day and involved some pretty technical downclimbing with fixed ropes. Upon reaching the lagoon we found that although neat, it was not exactly pretty and definitely not what we had expected. So, I decided to adventure into the shallow water which I regretted when it turned into a shallow mud pit covering very sharp hidden rocks. This meant that I was unable to use my flip-flops as they immediately got stuck, nor could I effectively walk barefoot for fear of seriously cutting my feet (bad for climbing) and getting an infection from the disgusting pool I had gotten myself into (bad for keeping your feet). I took me long enough to dig myself out and get back to shore that John and Jenni left me! And after the ordeal, I completely forgot to take any pictures! Below is a photo of John and Jenni by this crazy-cool tree along the way to the lagoon and also a photo of Railay East from a nearby viewpoint.




Adventure # 4 - Penis Cave AKA The Cave of 1000 Cocks

Ok, so this is the anthropology I was talking about! This is one of the greatest cultural discoveries I have come across yet! I wont go into details because all you hace to do is click in the photo of the plaque and it will enlarge for you to read all about the origins of this cultural practice (as will all of the photos on this blog if you did not know already). I will say that this is one of the more blatant displays of misogynistic dominator culture that I have see to date. I mean come on, a penis with a crown of wangs! Thats one of the most awesomely sad things I have ever had the privilege to photograph! And to think, these men have built this shrine to a female goddess, and they really believe that this is the best way to venerate her; leaving carved penises as offerings! Because that is what all women, goddesses alike really want. . .right!?! You have to hand it to the general mentality of men across the planet. Come on boys, I think that we can do better than that! On a fantastic side note, I am glad that the Thai men have discovered the association between the teletubbie and the male form. For all those parents out there whose children are playing with those creepy toys, here is your reality check!





Adventure # 5: Deep Water Soloing

Deep water soloing is a must in these parts and we finally got around to booking our trip. If you like to climb and want a true rush, this is the way to go. I have done a lot of high, exposed rock climbing, some free-soloing and I have jumped off some stupid high cliffs, but none of it really prepares you for dws like you think it would. Something as low as 5 meters still seems super high and you always carry the idea of the high-dive-back-flop that could be just around the corner. It is also a funny experience to know that as you climb higher the height and potential danger of the fall increases, as does the jump you have to make if you continue on and don't fall. These facts can weaken the knees of even the most lion hearted girls and boys. For example, the picture of the roof climb is me on a 7a (5.11D). Although not super high, you can imagine the fall I would have taken if my hands would have blown and my heel stuck for just a second longer. BACKFLIP!!!!! In the end (of this route) I chickened out after not being able to pull exit moves and jumped from the hole where moments before I did the upside down no-hands rest. Man, what fun! The trip was also spiced up not only by the aforementioned bubble guts, but also the completely blown out climbing shoes that the guide shop nicely "provided" for us. Utter crap.

Below are some assorted pictures from our dws excursion; not all of them are John and I and some of them are not the greatest photos but we did the best we could given what we had (bad angles and a rocky boat). Again, you can click on any of the images to enlarge if your little heart desires a close up view. The first photo is John trying to look mean. He is really a softy.





John is on the middle left, on the big flowstone.



Adventure # 6: Dive Certification Course

After the DWS outing, Jenni, myself and Liz an old friend from New Zealand signed up and started our 4 day course to get our recreational open water dive certification. This course proved to be extremely rewarding in both what we learned and saw, and also the friendships we made along the way. In the three days following the 1st day, we had academic theory work and 2 dives a day. The last day, John and some new friends joined us on a dive trip to Koh Phi Phi which turned out to be some of the most fantastic diving ever! On our first dive the visibility was 25 meters and we saw a sea turtle, banded sea snake, great moray eels, cuddlefish and much more, and on the second dive we got to hang out with a big lepard shark. Our dive instructor Bruno said that it is some of the best diving he has ever done and that is saying a lot because he has logged over 300 dives! All-in-all it was an amazing experience and now with our certification we can recreationally dive around the world. Diving in Thailand was certainly a special experience I hope to remember forever. Unfortunatly we were not able to take many photos, but I have provided some I took along the way.


This is Bruno our instructor and his girlfriend Becks who is also an instructor and has logged over 800 dives around the world! They are both amazing people and I am really glad I was able to take the class with them as our teachers.

Our Dive group that went to Koh Phi Phi.


Now I say this with the utmost respect: I think Bruno is a vampire. Until our course, I have never met a Portuguese day-walking vampiric dive instructor, but I guess there is a first time for everything. What a character. And Bruno, if you are reading this, I mean that in the best way possible. Oh, and you still owe me a Mango shake.