The day started out perfect…  one of those beautiful crisp sun shinny fall Seattle days that mark the start of school and have you forgetting the cloud covered drizzle that you will soon be immersed in as the price for living in God’s country.  Parked on Western below Pikes Place Market like thousands of times before we left rig and set out to explore the local vendors’ quirky NW offerings…  did you know you can still buy a dragon shaped paper weight made from Mount St. Helens’ ash?

Back at the FJ Cruiser, as always, we left Hula Betty and Brenda, our GPS system (named by wife and girl for her voice when she tells us where to turn).  Over the miles, Brenda and Hula Betty have formed a deep bond of trust and friendship as they stood their posts on the dash.  Sure like sorority sisters fighting over a guys attention (ok that is my mid-life crises talking) they had their arguments but they always ended the day as friends.  And who knew that on this day that friendship would be put to the ultimate test.

Walking back to the rig, it wasn’t until I was at the passenger’s door that I notices the pile of broken glass shards twinkling on the ground and the gaping hole where a window  had once protected the interior form the NW’s elements.  AND THEN I HEARD IT…

Barely audible, a soft tear filled quivering voice came from the dash as Hula Betty struggled to find the words… She’s gone…  Brenda… is gone.  My eyes immediately fixed on the corner of the windshield, now empty, where Brenda had shouted out her navigational commands.  Still trying to collect herself, Hula Betty, shook and wiggled on the dash as she explained how Brenda sacrificed her life to save the rig from further damage and performed the ultimate act of friendship to keep Hula Betty affixed to the dash.

Apparently as some crack tweaker smashed in the window, Brenda set off the alarm and distracted the thief screaming take me, leave the rest…  I’m the pretty shinny one… Take me leave everything else…  Hula Betty said those were the last words she heard and the last she saw of her friend as the crack whore ripped Brenda, sparkling like justice, from her stand leaving behind exposed wires and the little suction cup stand that she had once so proudly perched on.

Thanks to insurance and the Poulsbo Auto Glass Clinic, within less than 24 hours, the rig is getting repaired, Hula Betty is attending therapy to help with her post traumatic syndrome and a small private ceremony for family and friends was held that celebrated the electronic life taken from us too soon.  But I swear last night lying in the dark, drifting between consciousness and that half dream state I heard Brenda’s voice carried in over the breeze lovingly barking out “Stay Left, Drive 5.3 miles on I-5 and take exit 423 North”.

A day after our loss which we can still barely speak of, Hula Betty and I sit here in the driveway about to hit the road for Rubicon.  We observed a moment of silence and thought of all the miles we’ve seen with Brenda and how we’ll miss her…  All of us will be a little less without the love of a good woman.

Those of you who follow the Last Great Road Trip know to expect: FJ Cruiser How To articles,  off-road adventure  stories, Hula Betty’s off-road videos, diversity discussions and the occasional rant or rave on whatever it is that we feel like ranting about…

Well since I had time to think on a trip out to Hurricane Ridge and Obstruction Peak in the Olympic National Park this is one of those rant times….

Like most, I have a Facebook (heck even Hula Betty has a FB and she can barely reach the keyboard from the dash) with several of you friending me or joining the Last Great Road Trip fan page.  I want to thank so many of you for joining us on Facebook sending messages and posting comments.  It means a lot…  Thank you.

This website started as a way to connect with family and friends, and to let them follow along on our Arctic Circle off-road adventure now more than two years back.  Since than it has turned into so much more…  We’ve gone on all sorts of off-road adventures and posted hundreds of stories with thousands of folks (I know because I check our Google Analytic) reading them, watching the videos, down loading pictures and few even buying decals.  Sure the topic is 4×4 off-road adventures and it leans toward the Toyota FJ Cruiser crowd, but really it is about the friends we’ve met along the way and the relationships that form on the trail, by the camp fire or over a cup of coffee at a truck stop diner.

The more we see and travel, the more it becomes true… Everyone has great stories tell… we want to hear them all…  We’ve met friends who faced cancer, joblessness, hearing loss, and death…  and they all seemed to go out of their way to lift the spirit of others and maintain a zest for life.

When I hear how someone connected with their dad on a road trip or decided to start a crazy adventure of their own… I crack a smile knowing how great that can be.  So thank you all for following along and I hope this website will continue to entertain, inform and inspire others to take on adventures in their own lives.  Who knew my mid-life crisis was going to be so much fun.

Art is amazing… It inspires, confuses, questions and touches people is ways they can’t explain.   Some seek out their art in churches, others in museums and galleries and some in private collections.  On my road trips and off-road adventures, I look for it outside, on the road and away from the crowds. Whether it is Buddhist sand art, sand castles on the beach or back alley tags, out door art speaks to me.  And one of my favorite forms is building murals.  The older the building, the older the mural…  the better.

I don’t know what it is about the art on the side of buildings but it seems to be alive. Maybe it’s the quest since usually you need to hunt for it in back parking lots, alleys or off the beaten path.

But building murals are not often shiny and new. Rather after years of ware and fading, the textures seem to tell the story of life.   The brilliant colors that once adorn the building become tired under the grind of daily life until its spirit begins to peal and crack.  However when you look closer, you see it is the aging tears in the paint against the texture of the building that gives the work its depth and sense of maturity.  You realize the art has stood against the elements and won.  The art is not fading, it is wearing its battle scares as a badge of honor and what looks like blistering and cracks are really welts taken in defense of its place in the sun.

Sure that is a lot to read into a an old building mural, but isn’t that better than thinking you really should smoke camels.

Art is everywhere and the next time you’re out on the road looking at a building mural, snap a picture and send it to us at off-road adventures on Facebook.  We can’t get enough.