Plans can be even better when you break them. A year ago, we were in Santa Cruz, California, planning to head home in February after a simple four month jaunt. Now it’s the last day of 2014, and the picture above is certainly not from our front porch in Portland.
First off, thanks to all of you. Thanks for the words of encouragement and for cheering us on. It’s never easy to find the time to share words and photos (I’m finishing this at the breakfast table, for instance), but your cheery feedback motivates me to keep it up. I’m also grateful for a splendid year of exploring, plus writing without any boundaries. I hope you’ve enjoyed the virtual ride!
To friends back in Portland, thanks for supporting our wandering spirits and staying in touch. We miss you, big time. To new amigos all over whom we’ve met in person or virtually through the blog, thanks for reaching out to say hi, not to mention inviting total strangers into your lives for bike rides, dinners, and a place to stay. We feel at home in more cities now than when we started this jaunt and are lucky to finish 2014 with additional awesome people to call friends. Y’all are fantastic.
May 2015 be filled with adventure, laughter, and energizing challenges for your body and mind. Here’s to visiting beautiful places where you can breathe deep and feel at peace. Without a doubt I can say that carving out space to explore during this past year is one of the best gifts I’ve ever given myself. I can’t recommend a free-form adventure highly enough for catalyzing a change, testing your boundaries and figuring out what makes you tick.
We’ll ring in this New Year in the jungle of Belize with Chelsea’s family. The two of us aren’t sure what lays ahead in 2015, but we’re no stranger to following our guts or listening to adventure’s beacon pinging the way. I suspect it will be good.
Happy New Year! We’ll see you out there.
Dakota
One of my favorite shots from a couple years ago around New Year’s. Me on two cheap rental mountain bikes at once, some exuberance from Chelsea, and wide open space in southern Arizona. If 2015 is this much fun, sign us up.
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/Belize-snorkeling.jpg6521044Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2014-12-31 06:25:502014-12-31 06:25:50Happy New Year!
I spent last night shivering with a fever in a Mexican border town and can’t really think right now, so pictures will tell the stories from Tulum. I spent my days there learning Spanish, swimming in natural groundwater reservoirs called cenotes, hanging with new buddies, lounging on the beach, snorkeling, biking and running, eating fajitas and chile/pineapple popsicles, and generally just loving life, Mexico-style.
A half dozen people told me Tulum is their favorite place in the world. I’ll cast another vote for it as a special destination. If you get a chance to visit, make it happen!
Cheerio,
Dakota
Heading out on a boat ride in the lagoons near Tulum.
A river dumps into the Caribbean.
Pink spoonbills and a pelican.
The canals of Sian Kaan are lined with mangroves. Best part was a float (sans boat) for a kilometer through a tight canal with a ceiling of woven mangroves. Dead silence save for chirping birds.
A boat in the mangroves.
Chelsea packing her brain with Spanish lessons. She joined up a couple weeks into my stay here.
When in Rome… Chelsea protects a Santa pinata enroute to a party. Not every day you see Santa wearing a Marmot rainjacket. We got some laughs from locals who wondered what the crazy gringos were up to.
Buddies (students and teachers) from our Spanish class at the Chac-Mool Institute.
Did you know a crocodile can jump almost 10 feet out of the water?
A ruin near Tulum at Coba.
An empty beach halfway between Playa del Carmen and Tulum.
We explored a giant abandoned resort complex. There were easily 20 buildings with hundreds of rooms. Totally eerie.
Another shot of the hotel. The world without us…
A cenote near Tulum. Limestone erodes away and leaves caves you can swim around in. So fun. My favorite was a completely underground cenote over 100′ across that was accessed by a long spiral staircase down into the cavern.
Acting tough in front of the main ruin in Coba. (My compatriots missed the memo on a “blue steel” look.) The ruin behind us is 150 feet tall!
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/10-DSC04384.jpg7991200Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2014-12-23 10:26:462014-12-23 10:26:46Snapshots from Three Weeks in Tulum
Exploring the ruins in Tulum at the beach. This cool dude was about 3′ long!
My brain hurts. Plus, I can’t stop dreaming in Spanish. I couldn’t be happier about it.
I’m in Tulum, Mexico for two weeks of immersion classes en Espanol. Some days, I feel like I’m drowning in words; they rain down from a tropical storm of sentences and grammar. It’s similar to returning to running after a long break. The first few times hurt like hell and you wonder, “Why in the world am I doing this?” The fifth time out, you catch a fun trail in a forest and can’t stop grinning. Then you turn a corner and there’s a hill that make your lungs fall out. Not quite fit yet!
Practicing my Spanish and picking up food for dinner.
Anyone who has visited a foreign country knows the feeling: you practice the language until you feel fairly capable. Ten minutes later, you go into a store/bus station/restaurant and a local says, “blah-wordIknow-blahblah” faster than a passing jet. All you can do is stare back blankly and mutter “hola” under your breathe before 1. fleeing in horror or 2. resorting to the old point-and-smile technique to convey your desire. Smoke pours from your ears, cheeks blush. I just try to remember, as someone wise once pointed out to me, words aren’t dangerous, so don’t be scared to speak. (Pretty sure they were fluent in Spanish…)
An interesting aspect of my time in Tulum is that Chelsea isn’t with me (she flies in next week). For the first time in a long time, I’m rolling solo. My bachelor’s pad is a thatched-roof cabana at a hostel called Rancho Tranquilo, a quiet place with hammocks swinging in a palm-shaded garden. The vibe is one where drinking margaritas all day is entirely acceptable. The town of Tulum, an equally laid-back place near old Mayan ruins, is a quick bike ride or run to sparkling crystal water and clean beaches. Initially, it was a tiny fishing village a few hours south of Cancun; until 15 years ago, it lacked electricity or a paved road. Leave the main street and there isn’t a word in English. My kind of place, and I’m roaming all over on foot and bike discovering random things like pineapple and chile popsicles (don’t knock it until you try one).
Colorful murals decorate the city all over back streets. Most stores have artistic decorations on their concrete walls as well.
Still, the last time I took a Spanish class was in 2000, which means my first few days in Mexico involved me trying to spear words like a drunk fisherman in the dark. So far, my best slipup left three people (my teacher included) thinking I ditched my six month old baby at my parents’ house so Chelsea and I could travel. A couple hours later, severe judgment was reversed when they realized my brother is the one with a baby. At least I haven’t accidentally cussed out anyone’s grandmother. Yet – there’s still time.
My focus here is entirely on Spanish. Yesterday, I probably said 100 words in English in 12 hours. (No wonder my brain feels stretched.) Not that I’m speaking good Spanish; Gabriel Marcia Marquez’s Nobel Prize doesn’t have competition yet. And as part of some when-in-Rome extra-curriculars in the class, I’ve also taken a salsa dance class, learned how to cook chile rellenos, and made a ‘pinata pequena’ to decorate a Christmas tree. Lots of laughing, frequent mistakes and plenty of improvement in my Spanish in just a week are the result so far.
Salsa y chile rellenos cooked over an open fire.
Why bother learning, a few people at my hostel have asked. Better to just veg on the beach! (Just my style, right?) I have many reasons, including future travel and wanting to be less gringo when I’m exploring new places. Being fluent in Spanish is also a long-time goal of mine, and this was a great time to get back on track.
To me, just as a translated book loses some meaning, traveling in a foreign country without the ability to speak the local language changes the context and experience. While I will always be a tourist outside of the U.S., it’s a rewarding challenge to hang out with Honorio, a Mayan fellow in town with whom I’ve sat and chatted (in Spanish) over food and drink for hours, have a long conversation with the owner of a tortilla-making shop, or simply order food without feeling blood rushing to my face.
So for the next week, I’m hopeful that my dreams are speckled with accurate verb conjugations and rolling r’s the way I only hope for during the day. If I’m lucky, my sharp gringo pronunciation will melt away with any remaining stress. After all, I’m on Mexico time now, and there isn’t any hurrying things down here.
Hasta luego,
Dakota
P.S. If you want a great Spanish school in Tulum, search no further than the Instituto de Chac-Mool. Fun, knowledgeable instructors in a beautiful setting – score!
Piles of chiles in the market.
Margaritas with fellow Spanish students.
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/03-DSC04170.jpg7521200Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2014-12-12 06:33:562016-01-02 10:07:30The Best Kind of Headache
Original touring setup. It’s evolved since than! (An overlook in Montana on Lake Koocanusa in 2014.)
Update May 2019: read this recent post to see the bikepacking additions I made to the Fargo for a tour through Spain and Portugal this spring. Check out this post about Fargoing (<–totally a verb) my way across Oregon on the Oregon Outback.
Locked and loaded on the Oregon Outback with six days of food.
I pedaled my Salsa Fargo 4,000 miles through the U.S. in summer 2014 and another 2,500 miles through Europe in 2015. This post explains why I think a Fargo is a great choice for anyone looking for a commuter or a touring bike that can handle pavement, gravel, dirt roads and light singletrack with equal ease.
There aren’t many bikes out there with such great versatility, yet most people don’t consider the Fargo for road touring. I think they should! I have no affiliation with Salsa (other than what I put on fajitas). I’m writing this only to help discuss this fairly new bike (in 2013) because I couldn’t find a comprehensive review during my search.
Making friends in Montana. “Hey, is that a Salsa?”
My rationale for Choosing the Salsa Fargo
When I started looking for a touring bike to replace my Lemond Poprad cyclocross bike, I debated forever before deciding on a bike. There are a dozen great options out there – how does one choose? After many test rides and hours combing through online forums and reviews, I bought a new 2013 Salsa Fargo 3. After our US bike tour in summer of 2014, I couldn’t be happier with my choice.
For me, it came down to three important factors: versatility, comfort and a steel frame. Weight was not a big factor since touring and commuting both add significant weight that I feel obscures the savings from, say, an aluminum or cargon frame. I also needed braze-ons for fenders and front/rear rack mounting.
Fall colors in New Hampshire.
Versatility
Trek, Surly, Salsa, Raleigh, and a few other models made my short list. At first, I leaned heavily toward Salsa’s well-regarded touring bike (the Vaya), largely due to Path Less Pedaled and their satisfaction with the bike.
However, I felt limited by the Vaya’s scope (limited to road touring/commuting) and not being able to fit tires bigger than 40mm for serious off-road adventures. Also, I would need to immediately switch up the Vaya’s gearing since it comes with a 30-tooth small front chain ring and 30-tooth rear, which isn’t a good ratio for spinning up steep mountain passes without destroying one’s knees and back. I’m not 21 anymore, dammit! (I’m totally going to be the 60-year-old guy on an electric bike crushing whippersnappers on climbs.)
My buddy Nate, a badass off-road tourer who throws down single week, 600 mile rides with 35k elevation gain, recommended the Fargo. It turned out to be the ideal bike for my needs and allows me to own one bike for touring plus town riding. Plus, I can run mountain bike tires (it comes stock with 2.2’s”, but I rode with Schwalbe Marathon 40’s) or slim road tires for various types of touring.
I’ve hauled up to 75 pounds of gear on the Fargo with the Salsa racks with no problems. Gravel, dirt, pavement – it handles it all.
Update 8/19/15: during our bike tour around Europe, I used Continental 42 series tires, which are designed for the fatty rims on the Salsa and allow slightly higher pressure. The bigger tires are great for touring over there.
By the way, dig these kinds of posts? Sign up for the free Traipsing About newsletter for more bike talk and future bikepacking adventures.
Back gravel paths of upstate New York.
Sizing Your Salsa Fargo
What size to buy? I’m 5’10” with a 32” inseam and always fit a medium in anything – clothing, bikes, jetpacks, corsets; you name it. Sizing charts all pointed to medium. And yet when I test rode the Fargo’s various sizes, the medium and large felt practically the same due to the relaxed geometry. (It’s the most comfortable bike I’ve owned). Tough choice. Nate pointed out that I could use a bigger frame bag if I went with the large, and many other people my size rode a large also. Coupled with my positive test ride experience, I chose large.
For me, it was the right choice. Unless you have monkey arms and dwarf legs, I bet you’ll fit great on a large if you’re 5’10”-6’0”. Note that Salsa will tell you otherwise; I spoke with their customer service and they couldn’t recommend anything other than what sizing charts tell you. Forums will disagree, and who knows how it feels for you, but a large worked for me.
Hanging on the Erie Canal in NY. Chelsea is being sneaky.
Salsa Fargo Models – What’s the Difference?
The other dilemma was which Fargo model to buy. There’s the Fargo 3 (cheapest model), Fargo 2 or Fargo Titanium. At $4,500, the titanium was out – I don’t plan on racing on my Fargo unless it’s to meet friends for Thai food. At face value, the Fargo 2 was great because it has better components (SRAM X5/X7 versus X7/X9 on the Fargo 3), a suspension seat and a carbon fork.
BUT that carbon fork lacked braze-ons for mounting a front rack or water bottles. Deal killer for someone like me who wants the versatility without needing multiple forks. I could have bought the 2 and switched out the fork, but it wasn’t worth it. Fargo 3 it was.
I should also add that the Fargo 3 has braze-ons with enough space for five water bottles. That can work well if you use a frame bag; there’s still room for three water bottle cages. If you don’t want to run a front rack, you can use Salsa’s Anything Cage and carry a sleeping bag or pad on your forks. I’ll be doing this for future bike packing adventures.
Note: I use Salsa’s Alternator rear rack and down-under front rack. They work great – I carried 50 pounds on the rear rack on some seriously rough terrain in Europe and had zero issues.
Cruising the Michelson Trail in South Dakota’s Black Hills. 110 miles of off-road gravel grinding!
Handling
The Salsa is a solid bike. If you’re used to a carbon rocket or a tight geometry touring bike, it’s going to feel a big sluggish at first. I had those leanings…but only for a few hours. And after two days on it, I realized my wrists weren’t hurting, my back felt great and it was a joy to ride, both uphill and downhill. With the low-rider front rack from Salsa, loaded panniers (I used Ortlieb Bike-Packer Plus for rear and Sport-Packers for the front) still allowed smooth handling with no chatter or wobbling, even at 40 mph down a mountain pass.
Gearing, Chainrings and Other Boring Gearhead Info
The Fargo is basically the same frame weight as the Vaya. It comes with SRAM DoubleTap shifters, which some people may not like. Such as me! I’m a Shimano guy and this is my first bike with SRAM. No reason to be concerned – any Luddite gorilla can figure out the shifting. Call me a Shimano heretic, but I actually grew to like the DoubleTap mechanism.
Gearing-wise, the Salsa come stock with a mountain double setup. I run 26/42 up front and an 11-36, 10-speed rear cassette, though I believe the new models are stock at 26/39, which would also work great. The sizeable head tube allows for a 100mm suspension fork to be installed with clearance for mountain bike tire, which results in a great off-road touring rig. All that together makes this a killer rig for the Continental Divide ride from Banff to Mexico, which is on my bucket list.
Only a double front chainring, you gasp into your PBR (dude, why are you drinking at work?). Yep, that’s right. I’m of the humble opinion that a triple front chainring is unnecessary for bike touring. Who wants to pedal downhill at 50 mph on a loaded bike? Self-imposed death sentence, no thanks. (And stop dreaming about tailwinds where you need a top-gear chainring. You’ll get one tailwind during your entire tour, and you’ll probably be eating lunch when it happens.) In fact, I spent 3/4 of my time touring in the small chainring. Go double and thank me later.
Snack by the side of a back country highway in eastern Montana.
Disc Brakes Rock
Don’t listen to rim brake snobs. Disc brakes on a loaded bike are fantastic. You’ll agree the first time you’re riding downhill in the rain and can actually stop without sacrificing a foot into spinning spokes. They’re easy to adjust (albeit occasionally squeaky) and won’t heat up your rims on the non-rainy descents. If you’re touring in Mongolia where parts are more than a falcon flight away, maybe rim brakes make sense. Most other places, I bet you’ll be fine. Brakes are overrated anyway; ask any fixie rider!
Riding Position and Comfort
The Salsa Fargo is one of the most comfortable bikes I’ve ever ridden. I usually slam my bars down as low as possible on mountain bikes for handling purposes, but that’s totally unnecessary for bike touring or commuting. Instead, my seat was slightly lower than the handlebars and it felt like sitting in a throne. For climbing, the stock Woodchipper handlebars were fantastic; their flared shape provided great hand position variation during long days. And saying “Woodchipper bars” is like wearing a flannel shirt and chopping two cords of wood in 5 degree weather – it makes you a badass.
Making friends with burly bikers at the Sturgis Rally in South Dakota.
Downsides
Thinking hard for this part, but can’t come up with anything! (Seriously, I’m not getting paid to write this.) The weight is all I’ve got – 36.5 pounds for my bike with fenders and front/rear racks installed was the final tally. Other than a few flats, I experienced zero issues with my Fargo over our 4,000+ mile bike tour, not to mention shorter rides post-tour. The bike feels bulletproof, the drivetrain wasn’t even noticeably worn at the end, and my body felt great afterward.
Final Thoughts
If you’re looking for a serious ass-kicker of a bike with tons of versatility for whatever two-wheeled adventure you’re contemplating, the Salsa Fargo is worth considering. After one big tour, I’m stoked to stuff mine in a box this coming summer, fly over the Atlantic and rampage all over Europe starting in early June.
Any other questions? Drop me a line via email or in the comments. Otherwise, cheers and happy bike shopping!
Dakota
P.S. Please contribute comments or thoughts below. This review is just my opinion and perhaps you have a different take on things. Share away!
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/05-DSC01840.jpg7991200Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2014-12-06 16:49:092023-05-06 14:59:33Salsa Fargo 4,000 Mile Review - Why I Bought a Fargo, Not a Vaya
A still photo misses the pulse of New York City. It singles out a tender moment or shows the scale of skyscrapers, but the heartbeat and energy flow too fast for a static shot.
Nine million people live in NYC, and sometimes it feels as if all of them are in one subway car or crosswalk with you. Time lapse photograph takes scenes and encapsulates them nicely into a few seconds. Packaged together, those brief moments are a quick glimpse into what makes the city so fun, intimidating and full of life.
This video is a compilation of scenes from our five weeks exploring the city. Central Park, Times Square and other iconic areas appear, along with random moments from our wandering about. I’d never played around with time lapses before – it’s quite fun! I parked my SLR camera the entire visit and shot everything (photos and time lapses) on my iPhone 5.
Without further ado, enjoy! Here’s the link to the short video on YouTube, or just click play below in the embedded version.
On to the next adventure,
Dakota
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/07-IMG_6615.jpg9001200Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2014-12-05 08:49:432015-09-02 13:23:20NYC's Pulse and Beat - A Time Lapse Video
New York City is a potent, fully-stocked bar. And, in five weeks here, I’ve enjoyed it straight up via rocking musicals on Broadway, on the rocks with a singer strumming tunes in a dark bar, or sipping the club soda of an indie movie night.
Other giant cities pack a punch too, but are grape juice compared to NYC’s deep red wine rush and sheer intensity. That crush of orderly mayhem turns ripples from New York’s art, finance and fashion morph into waves as they crash around the world.
Times Square and its insane advertising barrage.
In one run-on sentence, life here forces me to marvel at bike delivery guys zipping between taxis that are dodging delivery trucks unloading pallets of food into basements of billion dollar buildings as pedestrians zip by texting and eating lunch at the same time. I’d rather take a gut punch from Mike Tyson than pay rent for a studio apartment in midtown, yet people do it. Forget the yellow bus to get to school; throngs of youngsters navigating subway turnstiles with their moms are the norm.
Rather than shell out big cash for plays, we hit up rush, standing and lottery tickets. Here, we’re crossing fingers to get into Wicked. Third time was the charm!
Calming down in MOMA in front of a Rothko piece.
Small niceties disappear as well. Take the driver of an armored truck leaning on a blasting horn for a solid minute at a stopped taxi. Few people appear to think outside themselves—“oh, the taxi is picking up a customer.” Eye contact is a foregone conclusion; agendas and destinations trump all. Summing it up perfectly: a guy in a suit shoulder-checked while crossing a busy street. In a high-pitched voice, he cried out for all to hear (but none to care), “Can’t you even say SORRY? I’m so SICK of it. Where are the manners, people?”
Logistics for simple things are daunting in NYC. I balk at exorbitant prices in restaurants (but wow the food is good) and sigh at the snaking lines in grocery stores (Whole Foods has an automated voice and TV screen directing traffic to 35 registers.) I’ve learned to be careful buying stuff from bodegas because the expiration date may be the previous decade (record so far: raisins from 2006. Mmm, dried gravel). And shouldering through Saturday night traffic in subways after a long day in the city tries my patience. It makes me dream of a quick bike ride home or a run in Central Park, which (surprisingly) has quiet winding paths away from the crowds.
The end of a pier on the Hudson River during a run through Riverside Park.
Other than devouring the city’s offerings, my goals for New York were deliberately few. A writing class. Running in various parks and attending butt-kicking spin classes. And plenty of space for reading, writing and reflection on the past year. (Meanwhile, go-getter Chelsea is rocking frequent yoga and volunteering at Wild Bird Fund, a wild bird rehab center). After traveling for a year straight, decompressing in our own place feels great (thanks Erin!). The luxury of a couch and *gasp* sleeping in the same bed (and zip code) nightly. The small things make nomads happy.
Not that we’re sitting around. After all, the best – and most intimidating – thing about New York are the endless activities. Broadway shows are a new-found pleasure – the stunning, intricate sets coupled with star performers is so entertaining (we’ve seen seven musicals and are pro at scoring cheap tickets at this point). Fantastic plant-based restaurants abound (most memorable: Beyond Sushi, a delicious vegan take on sushi). Events like the NYC marathon, free art exhibits, concerts, indie movies and dance performances fill the hours and getting to sleep before midnight is a rarity. It’s a menagerie of entertainment into which we dived. So. Much. Fun. We logged the first ten days at Mach 3 explore mode and then realized our feet, minds and pocketbooks could crack into 12 million frayed pieces if we didn’t slow down. Quiet mornings followed by time for exploring provide a good middle ground.
When we are out in the flow of the city, I watch people with fascination. They jaywalk, whistle for cabs and non-stop hustle. They’re pushing hard, often with tense faces and quick strides. I get it – in a place where a hot dog stand permit to sell $2 franks costs $289,000, I feel a jagged, angry edge in my personality at times too.
Still, we see glimmers of humanity shine. A homeless woman brought in an injured bird to Wild Bird Fund and donated $10 in crumpled, panhandled dollar bills to help out. A different homeless woman with white hair shivered in her thin blanket on a freezing day. We bought her a hat, which she refused. Startled by that, we watched two other people offer her money; she denied them too. On a Park Avenue street corner in the blasting wind, we four strangers bonded over the plight of another, put aside our schedules and discussed how we could help someone in need. I suspect this happens all the time on a variety of levels, from individuals to nonprofits to huge contributions from businesses.
NYC marathoners heading toward the finish at the southern end of Central Park. 60,000 people ran this year!
Beneath it all, people make New York City a magic place. It’s not the rules, population stats, expensive permits or the billions in revenue on Wall Street. The individuals make the city sing (there’s a reason “Humans of New York” is so popular – it puts a face to the madness). Their unique labor cranks out world-class art, business, and food mixed into an ocean of chaotic energy that is as overwhelming as it is fantastic.
And now, even as I’m dreaming of a shifting balance in the form of quiet waves on a warm beach or the crunch of a mountain bike trail under my tires (with no sirens to be heard), this stay indelibly etched the pulse and beat of NYC into my chest. I feel most content in nature, but have loved basking in the brilliance of the city’s offerings. Whether sipping a walk through Central Park or a downing a shot of an energizing theater performance, fond memories abound. I can’t wait to come back.
Onward!
Dakota
Backstage and blurry at the Broadway performance of Wicked with a cast member. Thanks to Merideth for introducing us to her friend Betsy!
Enjoying a walk in Central Park.
Chelsea’s wildlife rehab skills helping out an injured pigeon.
https://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/03-IMG_6543.jpg9001200Dakotahttps://www.traipsingabout.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/03/Traipsing-About-logo-white-background-450x156.pngDakota2014-12-03 09:59:582014-12-03 09:59:58New York City, Straight Up
