Turks and Caicos – the land of conch and potcakes. Several months ago I drifted over to Turks and am just now getting a post in. I wish it was because I’ve been so busy but the truth is I’ve just been a lazy bum. It was a spur of the moment trip I booked about 2 days in advance after my pilot friend said “Hey, I’m going to Turks in 2 days… want to go?” And that was that. I went. We flew into Provindenciales, aka Provo, which is quite ironic for me and some others of you reading this.. and the rest of you are now wondering “huh?”
POTCAKE: the name given to the dogs of the Turks and Caicos Islands. Derived from the days when the locals fed the caked remains of the cooking pot to the local dogs. They’ve evolved into a breed which is extremely smart, loyal, and loving.
There’s an amazing non-profit adoption program – check out potcakeplace.com – where you can bring one of these little guys home with you. The other great part of this program is you can volunteer while you’re vacationing and take the pups to the beach with you. And for you dudes out there, Jasper (above) is a total babe magnet… like that’s not obvious.
Amazing color of the water – shot with an iphone. Lucky.
Conch’s as far as the eye can see. The challenging part is trying to smuggle one of these bad boys home.
There are some sand dunes called the Little Sahara about a 2 hour ride from my house and I was feeling a little restless. It seemed like a good idea. It was. There was a huge crowd of 3 people out there (just my style) including a dude named Dale. Dale was was a high-energy, shortish, skinnyish guy with a full on Utah accent from a small town called Oak City. He was dressed in full moto-cross gear from head to toe – boots, racing pants, jersey, matching red helmet, and goggles. As he hopped off his tricked out 4 wheeler, he asked if I needed ‘provisions’ and I chuckled a bit inside because he used the word ‘provisions.’ The offer was a stand-up gesture from one rider to another. I didn’t need anything but I should have taken him up on it just to get him talkin’ about life and stuff in a small town. I love hearing stories about a way of life I may never experience and I bet he has some pretty great ones. Those kind of guys always do.
The ride – she loves getting her picture taken. She has quite the little ego. I can’t blame her I guess.
It was 99 degrees and I needed to ride and get away. The obvious choice – Arizona. I decided to try and find the spot along the Grand Canyon I had once camped while still in college. I remember sleeping on the edge of a cliff (literally) with nothing but a few hundred feet separating me from certain death and not a soul in sight – those were good times – so I packed up the bike.
The late start that day caused me to ride the final two hours in darkness. I think I was being tested by the biker gods. As night fell, rain started, the wind picked up, and then a construction zone. The fresh black asphalt hid any definition of the road and the uneven lanes didn’t help much either – no biggie. I’m a biker. It’s part of the deal. Test passed.
The next morning I witnessed a dog and a coyote become friends – true story – then off to find the Grand Canyon. I never found the exact spot I camped way back in the day. Apparently there are too many off-the-beaten-path dirt roads to follow and my memory isn’t what it used to be. It didn’t matter. I made it to the big canyon and it’s still pretty amazing – that I do remember.
In the span of about two hours, the temperature went from 99 degrees down to 49 degrees and then back up to 105 degrees – this includes 2 rain storms and some sleet. Yes, sleet. Yes, it’s mid August – notice the white stuff in the photo – that’s snow/sleet/hail. Call it whatever you want. It was cold.
End of the day camp spot – the smell of pine trees and rain, flames of an open fire and some crackling wood. It’s a pretty great way to end a ride. The tortilla chips with a hint campfire smoke even tasted great. It was a good day.
just wandering around the museum one morning –
It’s interesting how on a work assignment I don’t seem to absorb the culture of a city as much as possible. Maybe it’s the mind set of ‘working’ that keeps me from fully taking it all in. I’m really not exactly sure but I know when I’m on my own and wandering about I feel a different energy. São Paulo is a city I didn’t love before but it’s growing on me. It has a very New York City feel. Rio (only a 1 hr flight away) has a very west coast feel. And the cityscapes in São Paulo are really quite incredible.
Cardinals 7 Cubs 6
Oh yah, and there’s some arch thing that’s supposed to be famous…
Vasco da Gama bridge in Lisbon.
I’m not exactly sure what this is.
The view from Pao de Açucar.
The view from the big rock at Itocoa. I suggest you don’t hike this barefoot. Blisters heal.
No explanation necessary… This pretty much sums up a great weekend in LA.
How the heck was I supposed to know what a smelt was?!?!
Skull made of skulls.
I shot this with my iphone. There’s a tiny little plane almost hidden in the clouds.
You don’t have to say it… I know it’s awesome.
Cable cars. Retro is rad.
A beautiful day in Itocoaciara.
They block off the streets of downtown Rio at night and pull tables out from the restaurants. It gives this huge city a very friendly feel.
My second favorite beach in Niteroi (near Rio de Janeiro)