No Wrong Turns: Choosing a Car for an International Road Trip

by Kelsey Mulyk on

In the initial planning stage, we had a hard time finding recommendations about what kind of car would be the best for this type of trip, so we had to muddle through on our own and hope that whatever we chose would be hardy enough to withstand a year long (maybe more) driving trip.

Choosing a car can be a bit difficult — you don’t want to stick out too much, but you also need a car in good, solid condition that will be able to tolerate the demanding roads and sweltering heat.

Here are some things to consider when choosing a car for a long road trip of this nature:

Make of Car

Mexico seems to have an abundance of Fords, Toyotas, and Volkswagens. But we’ve also spotted plenty of Isuzu Troopers, Land Rovers and Jeeps. Some of the most popular models are the Ford Bronco and standard Toyota truck, which we were told are some of the easiest cars to fix. Our VW, a 1991 Golf, has done well, but finding parts has proved to be an issue (at least in the Baja) — something we did not anticipate.

A Ford truck or SUV seems to be the way to go. Whichever car you do choose, try to pick one with a relatively simple engine, this way if you do require a mechanic’s help they should be able to get you back on the road as soon as possible.

Clearance

If you don’t want to see your car’s guts all over the road, pick a car with high road clearance. Roads conditions can be pretty rough with potholes, uneven surfaces, and rocks among other things that make you wonder what the Mexican definition of “road” truly is. Extra clearance insures that the rocks, bumps, and holes won’t knock lose any items that you’d like to keep, like your oil pan. We’ve been lucky and the only part we have lost is the bottom part of our bumper.

4-Wheel Drive

This is something I would highly recommend in your car choice. As mentioned previously some of the “roads” are often barely more than tire tracks. Sand, rocks, and potholes bigger than the car make navigating the roads tough. 4WD will minimize the chances of getting stuck where smaller, less powerful vehicles might have problems. You don’t need 4WD but it might be a nice addition if you are planning to do a lot of back road driving.

Fuel

Gas isn’t cheap so you will want to choose a car that is efficient. The standard fuel options are gas or diesel. Some people may prefer diesel, which can often be cheaper than gas (though not always), and is reputed to be more environmentally friendly and fuel-efficient.

A/C

This is a long going debate between Tom and I: should we have gotten A/C? We don’t have it and though it can be warm (ok boiling!), with the sunroof and windows open we manage to get a really good breeze going. One thing to consider is that in some of the larger cities, having your windows down might not be the safest option. It doesn’t take that much to reach in and grab something through a car window, which means you could end up melting in a hot vehicle while safely driving though town. So if you can’t handle the heat, investing in air conditioning is a good option. Though I have heard if your A/C system breaks you might be out of luck in getting it fixed quickly or at all.

Suspension

As I mentioned roads are bumpy, so bumpy you will be irritable instantly. Make sure your car has good suspension and if your shocks are old you might want to consider replacing them before you leave — you are for sure going to need them!

When choosing your vehicle make sure you think about where you intend to drive and invest the time into making sure your choice is going to be reliable. Have your mechanic give your car a tune-up and replace any part that seems to be on its way out. You might as well shell out the cash to have your car in good working order before you leave, this way you can spend time enjoying the ride instead of worrying about whether you will make it to the next town.

For us our little VW is working out fine: it is discreet, pretty tough and lets us drive some crazy roads. With only two mechanic visits under our belt so far, good gas mileage, and my ability to dig a tire out of sand in record time, we think we made the right choice though some days a little cool A/C and a bit more clearance would be nice.

“No Wrong Turns” chronicles Kelsey and her husband’s road trip — in real time — from Canada to the southern tip of South America in their trusty red VW Golf named Marlin.

Travel by Flying Saucer?

by Martha Edwards on

There might soon be a new way to get around, and it’s something you would expect to see on the pages of a comic book from the 1960s — the flying saucer. Okay, it’s not really a flying saucer like the one that belonged to that little martian guy on the Flintstones. It just looks like one. It’s actually an eco-friendly plane of sorts, developed under the CleanEra Project at Delft University. It cuts down the environmental impact in a few ways, including:

  • Using propellers rather than fuel-hungry jets, though this creates a concern because it makes for longer flight times. And, as you’ll know if you’ve ever flown in a prop plane, it is freakin’ loud.
  • Using composite materials, which make the body of the plane weigh less and therefore use less fuel
  • Using a ergonomic design, which also decreases the amount of fuel needed.
  • Accommodating more passengers. One of these flying saucers could potentially hold up to 800 passengers.

It’s just in the planning stages right now, so we’ll have to sit tight and see if anything comes of it.

(Via Autoblog Green)

Band on the Run: Soaking in Solarfest in Vermont

by Ember Swift on

There’s not a lot of places more chilled out and easygoing than a festival in Vermont on a beautiful July weekend that runs on solar power and promotes alternative energy and environmental solutions. It’s called Solarfest: The New England Renewable Energy Festival. Going there makes me want to just sprawl on the grass and watch the clouds overhead while simultaneously saving the world.

It can be done! Resting fuels the fight, I feel. And celebrating further fans the flames. Clouds keep us just as informed as anything… and watching clouds clears my head — funny how cloudiness offer clarity — which is just the state of mind needed to tackle the next step in any process. But maybe it’s the sunshine around the clouds that really soaks in and helps us lighten up for a while? (Okay, I’ll stop this metaphoric meandering now and just tell you about the festival!)

Besides the chance to consider our part in the movement for change that is upon us, the music at this festival is always a bonus. This is our third time performing here over the years and it’s always inspiring to take in the rest of the acts. Whoever chooses them has some eclectic and interesting musical taste, for sure, (Break of Reality were amazing!) and I’m thrilled that we’ve been among the artists to provide the score for this event – an occasion I support, wholeheartedly.

Solarfest takes place on a farm in a small town called Tinmouth, Vermont, just a couple hours south of Burlington. It’s in its thirteenth year, I was told, and it’s still very casual, very alive, very non-corporate and staying that way. Someone commented to me later that they were shocked that it was still so (relatively) small after thirteen years — I think there are a just a few thousand attendees over the weekend, if that — and I responded that I thought it was perfect this way.

And I do.

Why should festivals aspire to exponential growth? Yes, it’s good to grow in terms of widespread knowledge; we want people to know about solar energy, alternative fuels, how to make soap by hand without the nasty chemicals, etc. But, this notion that growing in a linear fashion until you’re so big that you need to move locations, hire outside security companies, solicit corporate sponsors and hang plastic banners all over the stage is just, well, counter-intuitive. It’s good to know that people want to come to events like this one, but so too is the natural turnover of people so that new faces replace old ones and that the festival is fresh but still manageable in terms of size.

Sustainable. That’s the ultimate goal. Success. Locally.

Musicians aspire to this kind of linear growth too, imaging that if they sell five hundred copies of their CD one year that the following year they ought to sell at least five hundred and one copies. There is a lot of cultural support for the notion of “more” growth as if it equals “better” when we all know that these two ideas are not often linked – at least, not anymore.

Festivals like this one promotes the notion of a natural cycle of things: the ebbs and flows, mountains and valleys, moments of prosperity followed by wondering where the next dollar will come from. Ultimately, this creates a balance which brings us sustainability. Something living and breathing. Organic and alive. Not just a bar graph rising towards the sky and never looking down on the grounded state from which is began.

For my garden at my house, I never ask it to grow bigger and bigger with every year. In fact, I want it to reach a sustainable and healthy growth level and then remain. I will tend it and it will yield. The next year, I will do the same. All told, the house will be fed by this garden and the garden will never take over the house.

That’s sustainability.

In this same way, Solarfest is a sustainable festival that is not being taken over by its own growth. It has been at its current location for the past few years and it’s nestled sweetly on a farm with hills that roll upwards on the perfect angle from the barn, half of which is transformed into a stage and backstage area. This hill creates a natural amphitheatre and holds the colourful blankets and chairs of hundreds of chilled out people angling smiles towards the lights.

Backstage, the barn swallows swoop overhead and come in and out through the open upper windows of the barn. As the evening rolls in, the stage lights cast an eerie glow on the interior of the barn and the jerky movement of those swallow wings create a natural strobe effect, flickering the lights and casting trippy shadows. You can see the hay stacked high on the far side where performer’s gear is piled; amps upon amps separated by similarly shaped and sized squares of hay just beyond the tarp.

I love it. I smiled at it all and took it all in.

Just before our performance on the Saturday early evening, I took a walk around the grounds. As in previous years, I was moved by the displays and vendors. There were innovative greenhouse designers, book vendors for little known or hard-to-find publications, vegan and non-GMO food suppliers, hemp clothing vendors, kid’s craft areas, etc.

Everyone was smiling. Kids were running around freely and safely. Sunhats were bobbing on the heads of older women walking gently through the grass holding their skirts above their ankles. Men with babies strapped to their chests. Lots of bare feet and beads.

I stopped for awhile and listened to Bill McKibben speak. He was on stage just before us with just himself and a microphone. He is a published author (many times over) and his most recent book is called Deep Economy: The Wealth of Communities and the Durable Future. He spoke about the economy of things like support, kindness, belief. He was natural and articulate and he made the audience both laugh and think without sounding pedantic or heavy.

Before the end of his talk, I went backstage again to make sure my equipment was all ready and that we were together as a band. I was cradling my guitar and warming up when the audience cheered for his words and the MC took back the microphone to signal a break between sets.

When Bill walked off the stage and through the backstage area, he smiled down at his feet and just sauntered off. It was self-effacing without being under confident. Is that possible? Perhaps I just saw raw humility. It made me stop for a moment and just stare off and wonder. It made me want to read his books.

I didn’t see him again for the rest of the festival, but I imagine he was there somewhere. At least, his words were.

They have staying power.

As does this festival.

MapQuest’s Gas Price Finder

by Willy Volk on

I used to use MapQuest to plan my routes. Then, I switched to Google Maps, because I felt it was more intuitive. However, I may have to switch back, now that MapQuest — part of the AOL family, along with Gadling — has launched a feature allowing travelers to view gas stations’ current gas prices on a map. With information on fuel prices at more than 100,000 stations around the country, MapQuest Gas Price Finder allows users to search for gas by grade or by stations offering diesel or alternative fuels. Prices are updated seven times a day. In the future, the information will be accessible on cell phones via MapQuest Mobile with a link to directions.

For my zip code, I learned that fuel prices ranged from $2.18 to $2.51, and the gas station I usually stop at had fuel for $2.20. I guess I’m doing all right: the highest prices in the nation are currently $3.41. But who’s only paying $1.58?!

Road Trip: El Paso to Carlsbad Caverns…What Went Wrong?

by Willy Volk on

Recently, my wife, my father, and I visited my grandmother in El Paso, Texas. One day, we left Grandma behind (sorry, Grandma!) and enjoyed a road trip from El Paso to Carlsbad Caverns, in New Mexico. If you’ve never been to Carlsbad Caverns, it’s definitely worth a trip. The huge rooms, gigantic decorations, and awesome colors are jaw-dropping.

Almost as amazing as the Caverns, though, was the drive from Grandma’s house to the Caverns. Living in South Florida, I was amazed by the wide, open spaces; the sharp, unfriendly-looking flora…and the speed limit. Seventy-five miles an hour?! Suddenly, I loved the southwest!

But while the first part of our road trip was mesmerizing, the last part of it was, well, not so great. So what went wrong?

We knew the Caverns were about 150 miles away from El Paso, so we were out the door at just past 8. We figured that’d put us in Carlsbad around 11, which would give us plenty of time to explore the caves and still make it back in time for dinner. (Although Grandma likes to eat what she calls “lupper” — a combination lunch/supper at about 3 or 4 — we knew that wasn’t going to happen. We figured we’d be home about 5 that evening.) We piled into Grandma’s Park Avenue, checked the gas tank — it was 3/4 full — and drove away.

Only a few miles outside El Paso, the terrain was flat, empty, and endless.

On either side of us was, literally, nothing. We passed a car about every 30 minutes. Finally, after about two hours, we reached Guadalupe Peak.

At 8749 feet, Guadalupe Peak is Texas’ highest point.

At the base of the Peak, there’s a small but adequate rest area…

…where we took some photos and stretched our legs.

It’s amazing here, because to the west, it’s fairly flat…

…while to the northeast, the Mountain rises up, almost out of nowhere.

After 20 minutes or so, we piled back into the car, and headed for the Caverns. We reached the place about 11:30, had a bite of lunch, and explored the Caverns for about 3 and a half hours.

Leaving the Caverns about 3:00, we figured we’d be home by 6. We tried to call Grandma to let her know, but there was no cell phone reception.

On the way out, we stopped in White City. Although the needle on the gas tank indicated we still had a fully half a tank, I thought it would be wise to fill up…just in case. I pulled up to the pump, popped the little door covering the gas tank, and grabbed the fuel nozzle. However, much to my surprise, the pump blinked “Please See Attendant.” Since the gas station was shut tight, I realized we wouldn’t be getting any fuel. Oh well…we still had half a tank. And in Grandma’s Park Avenue, that should be at least 10 gallons — plenty to get us home!

On the drive back, I was particularly impressed with the salt flats just southwest of Guadalupe Peak. The site of murder and betrayal in the mid 1860s, today the area is serene and peaceful. Yup, that’s Guadalupe Peak in the background.

My wife wanted to feel the water. She said it was warm, and the mud felt soft under her feet. I encouraged her to taste the water. She did. Was it salty? Surprisingly, no. Wasn’t this a salt flat?

We returned to the car and continued driving. The needle on the gauge read less than one-quarter.

A few minutes later, the orange “low fuel” came on. Gulp. Just a few minutes ago, the needle was hovering over the one-quarter mark. What happened? I didn’t know what to do. We had at least 60 miles to go. Should I announce the issue to the car? Surely, it’d just stress everybody out, and we were having such a nice trip! But I couldn’t just ignore it and keep driving. We rolled past an “outpost.” I wondered if it had a gas pump, but there wasn’t one.

I kept driving.

Finally, I confessed: “The low fuel light’s on.”

Nobody said anything for a while. My wife asked if I’d ever run out of gas before. “No,” I answered. “What about you?” She shook her head. I asked Dad if he’d ever run out of gas. “Once,” he said. “I was in my Dad’s car. The gas gauge was broken.”

We drove a little further. I was getting nervous. There was nothing out here. I didn’t want to get stranded.

We passed a road crew striping the highway. I rolled down my window and stupidly said, “Hey, the gas tank is on ‘E.’ Got any tips for where I could get some gas around here?” What a dumb question. We both knew I meant: “Hey, can I have some gas?”

“The nearest gas station is 16 miles west,” he answered, as he rolled up his window and drove off.

I slowed from 80 to 55, to conserve fuel. We turned off the air conditioner, because Dad said that was “good for a couple miles per gallon.” When we went downhill, I shifted into neutral, so as not to waste gas. I’m going to be honest: I was scared. I imagined us spending the night out here. That didn’t sound like fun.

Finally, we reached a Border Control post, which was odd, since we weren’t near a border. I slowed down, told the guy our problem, and asked him for some advice. I used my most pleading eyes. He smiled and said, “If you can make it to the top of this hill, you can coast to the nearest gas station.” I stepped on the gas and headed for the hill.

My hands were clammy as we ascended the slope. No one in the car spoke. You could feel each of us willing the car to make it to the top, to pass the peak, so we could get home. It was 6 right now, and we had 45 miles to go.

We crested the hill. I shifted into neutral again, and we coasted for about 10 minutes, cruising slower and slower…

…and slower. I looked at the dash. There seemed to be some extra warning lights down there. I took a deep breath and turned on my hazard lights. We were out of gas.

We kept coasting, but it was slow going. Where was this fabled gas station? That Border Control guy…I could wring his scrawny neck for getting our hopes up like that!

Finally, the car stopped. It was time to push. Just then, it started to rain. Naturally.

On the flat portion, of course, it was easy to push, but we finally came to a 1% grade, and we just couldn’t do it. We were — officially — stranded. The good news is that we were out of the mountains and into the out-outskirts of El Paso.

We tried the cell phone, and it worked! I called my insurance company. “Road and Travel Assistance,” a woman’s voice answered. “May I help you?”

“Yes,” I spit out. “I’m on the side of the road. I’ve run out of gas. And it’s starting to rain.”

She laughed.

While I understand that I wasn’t claiming my leg had been cut off in a horrible accident, I was hoping for some more sympathy. We discussed our location, and she arranged for a service vehicle to deliver some gas. “By the way, she said…you’ll have to pay for the gas.” Whatever, Lady — I’ll pay for whatever!

Between the pushing and the waiting, we were on the side of the road for about 45 minutes. During that time exactly 2 vehicles stopped and asked if we needed help. (Interestingly, both vehicles were driven by Hispanic couples. Coincidence?) Dad dismissed the first car by saying we were out of gas; he never thought to ask them for a lift to the gas station. The second vehicle was a truck, and they offered to take him to get fuel. Of course, it’s creepy seeing your father climb into a strange vehicle driven by people you don’t know. I wondered if this would be the last time I ever saw him.

Twenty minutes later, our saviors returned with my father. Muchas gacias, mis amigos!

Dad had purchased a one-gallon gas can (cost: $8.79) with fuel (cost: $2.89). He eagerly poured it into the car’s tank.

We loaded into the car, I turned the key, and…the engine turned over. We were ready to roll! Immediately, we called and cancelled the emergency vehicle.

When we arrived at the gas station — which was only about a mile up the road — the rain had cleared and out of the mist, not one but TWO rainbows appeared, ending at a pot of (black) gold.

It was a joyous moment. We filled the tank full and headed back to Grandma’s house. We arrived by 7:30. She had made a pot of tuna noodle casserole, and it was delicious. After a stressful afternoon, everthing turned out fine.

So what’s the moral of this story?

  1. If you go on a road trip, make certain you fill the tank full before you leave.
  2. Never trust a gas gauge that you aren’t familiar with. Consequently, see Rule #1.
  3. To call White City a “City” is the joke of the century. Do not visit and expect everything to be as you imagine a City should be. Again, see Rule #1.

Have you ever gone a road trip that went awry? How did yours end?