Back to the Flatlands

Sorry about the lack of posts; it turns out that a newborn can really be a big drain on your time.
We've been in Nebraska (and South Dakota) for a couple weeks attending a wedding, showing off the baby, and generally seeing people, but now we're back in the Treasure State and trying to settle into a more permanent routine.

Our drive to the wedding in South Dakota took us through the Sand Hills oasis of Alliance, home of Carhenge. Given our society's continued ugly slide into the morass of post-modernism, one day Carhenge will likely be a more recognizable Nebraska landmark than its capitol building (which, as I've said before and will say again, is without peer amongst the capitols of the several states).
I've always thought the Gremlin (car at top) was an unjustly maligned car. Then again, unlike my uncle, I never drove one.

There is other art at Carhenge, including this sea (sand?) monster with a lower jaw that looks suspiciously like a late Beetle decklid.

The impetus for our trip was Melissa's cousin Patricia's wedding in Lead ("Leed") South Dakota. This rrrrusty '74 we spotted there near our hotel looks as though it's happy to still be someone's dependable ride. That surfboard has to be a lark, as Lead is less than 150miles from the North American pole of inaccessibility.

On the trip up we'd noticed this VW graveyard/shop just North of the Niobrara River on US 385. On the way back we stopped to take a few pictures and ended up talking to the owner for a while.

The full name of the garage is blurred on this photo because I don't want the guy getting in trouble for using the logo of a certain car manufacturer that has, except when it's convenient for nostalgia's sake, completely severed its ties with its rich history.

The owner was really friendly, and, similar to other guys like him I've known, said some kind of bizarre (though completely understandable) things, like that he "hates working on cars". It's a testimony to his skill that he can maintain a business working on these steadily-getting-rarer cars just East of the Middle of Nowhere. His shop was awesome.

This photo was taken during our time in Lincoln: two nice avocado Westies bookending two Splitties. The black one, which is a single cab, is known to me from when we lived in Lincoln actually. In August of 2001 I was borrowing 02McDonald's 1960 VW single cab to move me and Melissa in to an apartment together. During a run, this black single cab pulled up next to me and asked me to pull over. It turned out he was interested in buying the doors. How often do things like that happen to non-ACVW drivers?

The baby was a real gem on the trip, taking lengthy car and airplane rides with good nature and aplomb. We hope that she'll do as well in Ludwig.

...With Love and Squalor

We are now in the market for a 1974-75 style child's cot, as our first child arrived at 415am on Tuesday the 19th. Both Mom and baby are doing quite well.


It occurs to us that when she's learning to drive--in Ludwig, of course--he will be 50 years old.

No News is No News

No baby yet. Maybe this week.

Thanks to Brianna and Ben for revealing Cafe Press to me, where I had the lower sticker made.

New Year's Day

Before 2008 was even twelve hours old (Mountain Time) we fired up Ludwig and headed East on MT Hwy 200 to Brown's Lake to take part in what they say is some good ice fishing. It was clear and cold. Ludwig loves running in cold weather, once he gets warmed up, anyway. (I like to think that his cylinder heads temps on Winter trips like this barely make it into the 200ºs F.)

If I were still taking art classes I would say something about how I like the palette of this picture. But since I don't do that anymore, I'll say how it's pictures like this that remind me of how tenuous our grasp on the meager crust and razor-thin slice of atmosphere of this completely and numbingly indifferent planet really is. Ludwig is at center right.













The pictures above and below show how you do ice fishing. First, drill a hole through 14 inches of ice. Then, as ice forms on your beard, fish through the hole while eating hashbrowns.

Next, watch the guy nearest you pull up a nice Rainbow Trout and go over to look at it. He wanted to take a picture of me with it, for some reason. Let me stress: I did not catch this fish. The guy was really nice though and gave me some pointers. I had several bites after that, but have yet to bag a fish.


With barely six weeks to go until ushering our first kiddo into this vale of tears, Melissa was still sporting enough to overnight in Ludwig. How cold is the first night of the year at 4308'? Cold enough to freeze our gallon jug of water solid in eight hours. Apparently chicks that are preggers are self-sustaining furnaces though, as her only complaint didn't have to do with cold, but uncomfortable hips. Plus the little girlie sometimes keeps her awake with kicking. But cold? Nah.

Whoever thought up tire chains was a genius.

Our last couple-only camping trip for the foreseeable future. Happy 2008!

(miles 217,163-217,289)

Ludwig's Secular Mid-Winter Holiday present

Fischer was struck by the need to inspect this package that came to us all the way from Georgia. What could it be? Fresh peaches?

Not peaches, but hinges. Westfalia poptop scissors hinges from a 1976 Campmobile, to be exact.
Ludwig's are bent, which not only makes it difficult to get the lid up and down, but can cut holes in his nice new canvas top. These appear to be a better, sturdier design. Cursory research tells me that the two-year difference isn't relevant. Now for some clear weather so we can get them on.