Taking It on the Road

Moser

Although WebMD Health Experts are not obligated to post every day, it sort of becomes addicting, even when on vacation.

Over the last eight or so years, I have posted responses from cruise ships in Mexico and Alaska, the District of Columbia, Maryland, Maine, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, Oregon, Idaho, Washington, Nevada (Vegas!), Canada, England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, just to name a few places.

When I list all of these places, it appears that I am some kind of world traveler. I attend a lot of medical meetings, and I do like to travel. After 9/11, I don't travel quite as often. I can't remember a time that I didn't take along the laptop.

I have used wireless networks in restaurants, hotel lobbies, conference facilities, and some of the oddest Internet cafes you can imagine. I have sat next to some dubious characters (probably setting up those infamous Internet scams), and waited my turn at the library when my satellite service fails, which is quite often (I won't mention the name, but it rhymes with Mirth Link.). I have even posted from my car outside of a hot link that I found.

I post quite often from my clinic desk (see photograph), between patients, when there are "no-shows," after my 12-hour shift, and of course, while eating lunch over the keyboard. If there ever was a global famine, I could live for several days on the crumbs that I could shake out of my keyboard.

Mostly, I post from my rural home nestled in the Sierra Foothills between Sacramento and Lake Tahoe. My window looks out on the snow-capped mountains, lots of beautiful Japanese maples that I planted, and my neighbor's shack. He inherited the property from his grandmother and "improved" it by building an outhouse-like shack, where he spends the weekends, perhaps writing his manifesto. I like to keep an eye on him. We call him "Ted" and his shack, "Ted's shed." He likes to burn stuff; not a good pastime when you live in a high fire risk area.

When my home network is functioning, I can post from my vegetable garden, from the garage, or sitting out in the grass alternating between typing and dog-petting. I won't show you a picture of my home office, but I can describe it to you...

I enlarged my desk with a huge sheet of oak plywood (finished nicely, of course) so that it will hold the stacks of papers, bills, and stuff that I should throw away. My computer is about six years old. I would like to replace it, but my Internet connection is so unreliable that I would be like having a Ferrari just to drive around the yard. My laptop is newer, but not by much. As long as they work, I am fine with them.

I have three printers (I like to take digital photographs), a copy machine, two scanners, a paper shredder, and a television. I threw my fax machine away, since it wore out one day when a real estate office accidentally printed my fax number on their business cards. I had just added a whole ream of paper, too.

Behind my desk, you will find three bookshelves filled with my reference materials, two file cabinets, and a big, glass case that holds my lifelong collection of antique medicines, including my award-winning collection of antique laxatives. All of these (and more) will soon be on permanent loan to the new Gold County Medical Museum when it opens in the fall.

The floor (carpeted, I think) is my desk extension and axillary file. There are several piles of neatly stacked papers that do not fit anywhere else. In a cleared space by my desk, you will find my dog, Herman. He has been my constant companion since his birth in our bedroom seven years ago next month. Herman's mother, Maggie, is downstairs looking out of the window, hoping to see our seasonal coyote attempting to get another one of our cats.

I don't know what I am going to do without Herman. He was in a terrible accident about a month ago, and is slowly dying from his injuries. I was told on Friday that he needs to be euthanized; he will not recover from his wounds. We have done everything we can to try and fix the damage, but there is about a 99% chance that I will have to make that painful decision soon. While I know it will be the kind and compassionate thing to do for him, I have to come to terms about it myself.

This is why I am posting on the Ear Disorders Board and writing this Blog at 3 AM. I can't sleep and there is a sad rain outside. It even got my face wet...

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Technorati Tags: pets, dogs, travel, health-and wellness

Baja Connections and the Trip Home

We arrived safe and sound in Loreto, Mexico. Expecting primitive conditions, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that this little town has better Internet service than my own community. It was a pleasure to log in to my WebMD Ear, Nose, and Throat board to catch up on my postings. When you miss a few days, you feel like you haven't answered your phone. I pride myself knowing that I try to answer every posting over the last 7-8 years.

After driving 1,400 miles, it was time to rest and have some fun. The next day, we did some hiking and kayaking along the beautiful beach. The following morning, we were given a private tour of the neighboring islands, teaming with seals and birds. Much to our delight, we were accompanied by a school of bottle-nose dolphins that seemed to be playing in the wake of our boat; leaping in tandem out of the water and darting back and forth. About noon, our hosts decided to swing by a little restaurant out in the middle of nowhere -- a thatched hut run by a wonderful family who recently relocated from Los Cabos. The tide was out, the restaurant did not have a dock to tie up, and my friend did not bring the anchor for the boat. No problem.

The owner of La Picazon (means "feeding frenzy") actually waded out to the boat carrying an anchor for us to use. He then carried the women, one at a time, on his back to shore. You don't find that kind of service in the States. We then were treated to a wonderful meal of fish cooked by his wife and speared by his two teenage sons' just hours before. The specialty of the house (hut) shrimp dish was baked inside a fresh pineapple and was unbelievably superb.

Our Loreto friends rent two other units, so we met Jules and Marilyn from the Chicago area. On our last day in Loreto, we decided to meet at a local lobster restaurant. We drove, but they were going to take a local taxi. Thirty minutes after we were to meet, they arrived with an interesting story. Apparently, the taxi got a flat tire, so he sent a friend in his pick-up truck to pick them up. The driver had a note from the taxi driver stating it was "okay" to go in the truck.

About the time we were just relaxing, it was time to make the 2 1/2 day trek home again. Other than being cheated at a gas station (my gas tank does not hold 50 gallons!) and the four-hour wait at the boarder crossing back to the U.S., we made it home safely. Not wanting to leave our purchased pottery and iron work unprotected in the back of the truck at some obscure motel, we decided to make a marathon run back to the Sacramento area -- a 22-hour drive.

We plan on going back again next year with a truckload of clothing to distribute in some of the more remote Baja villages. Children need shoes, socks, and jackets. I suspect I will have no problem getting donations in my practice. Next time, we will stay longer, I can assure you.

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Technorati Tags: travel, health and wellness, loreto, baja

Baja - The Connections Continue

I have always wanted to drive to Baja. I have a four-wheel drive truck; I need a vacation; I have been graciously invited to stay with friends, so why not? So, we loaded up our truck and headed South on a 2800 mile (round-trip) odyssey.

We started off with a three day pediatric continuing medical education course in San Diego. We stayed at a wonderful, upscale hotel (for once) and visited with our youngest son, who is an RN working in a local emergency room. We couldn't wait to start our real vacation, so at 6 AM, we were in our car heading for the Border. It was an uneventful crossing at that time of day; taking only a few minutes. For those of you that have never ventured past the tacky trinket stalls of Tijuana, you have not seen the real Mexico, or met the real Mexican people.

First stop: Ensenada for breakfast. Next Stop; La Bufadora - the site of an unusual blow-hole; a geyser caused by the ocean, located just a few miles from Ensenada. Twenty years ago, this was once our southernmost point in traveling the Baja. It was a tiny, seaside community with no electricity. A handful of fisherman shacks lined the picturesque hillside. La Bufadora is now no different than Tijuana - a tacky, tourist trap. This little community has been irreversibly ruined in my opinion. If you are looking for a ceramic donkey or a blue sombrero, this is the place. We took a picture of the blow-hole and quickly left; disappointed.

Final stop of the day: A long trek, hundreds of miles and hours south on the Baja Highway to the town of Guerrero Negro - Scammon's Lagoon is one of the three mating areas for the grey whales on the Mexican coast. This was our goal for the next morning. We have most likely seen some of these same whales in Vancouver Island and in the inland passage of Alaska. I doubt they will recognize me.

That night in the restaurant, we met a Canadian couple that spends a month each year volunteering at a local orphanage. They have been coming for four years now. They drive down in their travel trailer during the cold Canadian winters. Working in the orphanage warms their souls, more than their bodies. On our next trip (and there will be a next trip), we plan on dropping off a truck load of children's clothes that we are going to collect. Another connection.

Scammon was a whaling captain that nearly killed all of the whales that came to this lagoon. I find it interesting that they have his name attached to an area now highly protected. Early the next morning, we hopped on one of the pangas (small, open boats) operated by Mario's Tours -- a side business of a little, thatched hut restaurant. There were five of us: my wife and I and three Indian people from San Diego -- The Reddys. Dad was a gastroenterologist in San Diego that knew my RN son from the ER. His son was a student in Los Angeles that spoke fluent Spanish. The grandmother was along for the ride, wearing her sari and a bit worried about the whales. At one point, she told me that she was afraid they would eat her.

The boat buzzed past one the largest salt evaporation plants in the world, owned mostly by Mitsubishi. In no time, I spotted the first spouting of a whale. In the next half hour, it seemed we were smack in the middle of hundred of grey whales; too many to photograph. The four of us madly snapped our photos and grandmother sat in the geographic center of the boat. Suddenly, a baby whale popped his head up over the boat and stared at us. We touched him (or her) - the whale didn't get out of the water that high. It was wonderful.

"Did you hear what the whale said?" I exclaimed. This caught the grandmother's attention.

He said, "Hey, who likes Indian Food!?" The grandmother couldn't stop laughing. Her son told her not to worry since Indian people are much too spicy for whales.

After this wonderful experience, we headed across the Baja desert for the costal town of Mulege; another 175 miles away. The desert was not at its peak with flowers, but it was still unbelievably beautiful. We passed dozens of tiny towns, bordered on both ends by axle-breaking "topes" or speed bumps. You only go over those once while going fast. We also passed hundreds of highly-decorated roadside shrines of people that were killed along this challenging stretch of road. These were the sites that took the lives of fathers, mothers, or children; often still placed near the broken guardrail that failed to protect them. It made us sad; and reminded me to drive a lot more carefully.

We arrived in Mulege safely before dark. Only a fool would drive these roads at night, where cows often congregate to get warmth from the blacktop. Our hotel had its own dirt runway where U.S. private pilots land for the weekend. After driving the roads, I can see why someone would choose to fly. It only took a few minutes for someone to notice the license plate on our car. They were a couple who live about four miles from us. We shop at the same grocery store. Another connection.

Tomorrow, we head for our final destination: Loreto.

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Technorati Tags: Baja, road trip, whale watching