There are many options for touring Alta Guajira, the northernmost part of Colombia (and of South America), but overlanding in your own vehicle is definitely choice. The only rub is that many of the roads aren't really roads so much as they are just the tracks of the last vehicle that passed through, and not necessarily in the direction you're headed. So, navigation is tricky for a local, and nigh impossible for a visitor.

The various paths that lead to Punta Gallina are unpaved, rocky, and cut through a desert with infamously muddy patches that cars can be stuck in for up to a week. And driving through it during rainy season, as we did, can be especially treacherous.

We had a bit of "luck" on our side, if you can call it that. Unfortunately, the Guajira region has been subject to a five year long drought, making the difficult life of the Wayuu people who live there even more difficult. The UN and the Red Cross have both stepped in to try and alleviate the starvation and the lack of water, but providing aid has not been easy. So when we say "lucky," we mean only for the road quality, since we encountered little of the mud we'd been warned so vehemently about, and made it out with very little trauma to our 4Runner.

The other bit of luck we had was accidentally stumbling on a tourism agency that specializes in trips to Punta Gallina, while actually searching for different agency all together. That connection ended up being essential to the success of our trip, even though we did not ultimately utilize their services as guides.

Most tourists who visit this remote and sparsely populated region go either in a car driven by a local and guided by an English speaker. Or, they are driven to one of the only cities (here, the term is used generously, by city we mean perhaps more than 10 families live in a single area, with a few stores, and likely a kite surfing school or two) and are taken in a boat to other areas with more difficult overlanding logistics. This is a fine option. But you are shuttled from place to place, with little agency for things like choices in food and where to sleep. Likewise, you are sheltered from any kind of responsibility in the area, which was a fascinating, if often upsetting experience.

So when we told the first tour agency about our desire to drive ourselves out there, they were a little doubtful.

"You could," Paola said. But her confirmation of the possibility came with many caveats. About the lack of gas. About navigating the Wayuu rules of the road– namely stopping at many self-appointed toll spots, where children swarm the car, and do not let you pass until you have given them cookies, or water, or sweets. About the roads, or lack there of, and about the difficulty of navigation.

But we were set on going, and so Paola gave us the perfect recommendation: Drive up to El Cabo De La Vela on our own, find the largest hotel in town (a ten room joint, with bucket showers and an adjoining outdoor restaurant) and ask around to see if there were any tours headed to Punta Gallina that we could follow. And so we did.

The road to Cabo De La Vela is 50% super easy– paved, or when not paved, at least well trodden. And 50% difficult navigation through roads that make little to no sense, with a seemingly innumerable number of Wayuu toll stops. Our rations for the tolls– treats, mostly, purchased from a grocery store in Riohacha– dwindled much more quickly that we'd anticipated. And in a couple cases, we were very uncertain that we had headed in the correct direction. But we found the city, which is peaceful, and set against a still and tranquil coastline ideal for kite surfing.

Paola had called ahead to let her contact in Cabo De La Vela know we were coming. We were easily identifiable, as the only visitors to arrive in a car with California plates. And when Sergei, her contact, found us, he helped us find another tour guide with a group of five that were planning on leaving for Punta Gallina the next day.

That night, we camped on the beach, alongside many other visitors, who opted for the hammocks hung in palapas, the favored cheap lodging choice of the area. We purchased more toll fare from a local tienda. And, the next morning, we struck out for Punta Gallina.

We trailed a Land Cruiser VX from the Alta Guajira tour company, driven by a congenial man named Tobias. If you've prepped for overlanding, you're likely prepared for this journey. He lead us first to Punta Gallina's famous beach, which rests on the opposite side of a towering sand dune. The water is cool, and the sand is soft. It seems cast in unreality. We'd heard a dubious claim that the sand blew in from sandstorms in the Sahara, which just seems impossible. But it does have a completely different color and texture to the sand at all the other beaches in the region, and makes for a lovely sunning surface between bouts in the cool, blue water.

Then, he lead us to a tiny town, which is more a collection of houses surrounding one hotel-restaurant. It sits atop of a cliff overlooking a turquoise lagoon, replete with small collections of mangrove trees, a small dock, and an area in which they rear baby sea turtles for release into the wild. The town itself has more goats than people, no pavement, or even well trodden paths, and a preponderance of chickens. A few parrots live on the property of the hotel, and make the sounds of crying children, laughing adults, and a few wolf-whistles.

Tobias then lead us to a few choice scenic outlooks, two of which provided views of an enormous flock of flamingoes not too far away. And then, he lead us to El Faro Punta Gallina, the lighthouse that marks the northernmost point of South America. There, people have created an array of stone stacks on the beach to mark the spot, and we watched the sun set over them, casting weird and beautiful shadows across the sand.

As we headed back to the town, Tobias pulled to a halt, and pointed out a detonation crater. It was fifteen years old, he told us, and a relic of the government's war with Pablo Escobar. Escobar's illegal air strip had been just next to El Faro Punta Gallina, and the crater was created when the government bombed the area. It looked about three feet deep, and maybe ten feet across.

While the group that arrived officially with the Alta Guajira tours stayed in the hotel (which, they reported, was hot and stuffy, and not super comfortable) we camped below the cliffs just by the docks. It was serene, and silent save for the quiet sound of water lapping against the shore. A cool breeze blew gently all night. We slept like dead people.

The next morning, Alta Guajira tours had arranged for their guests to go on a quick boat tour to go look at flamingoes. The boat would drop them off at a farther location, that marked our point of exit from the area. So Adam followed Tobias in the cars, and I joined the boat tour, which led to a flock of about a thousand flamingoes. While I stared at the strange and improbable birds, Adam discussed logistics for getting to Valledupar with Tobias.

Of all the driving we've done so far, this has been the most satisfying. The route through the area cuts through salt flats, craggy desert, tiny Wayuu settlements, deep sand patches, cacti and shallow water. However experienced you are as a driver, we absolutely recommend tailing a tour group. The price for this service is tiny compared to the potential for the huge inconvenience of being stranded, lost, or stuck in the mud. Deep mud can often appear to be dry sand, and tricks even those familiar with the landscape. And driving in Wayuu country without a familiar face past 5pm is apparently not a great idea, for reasons no one made clear to us.

If you are planning a trip to the area, we also recommend the Alta Guajira tour company. Their services were excellent, Tobias's knowledge of the area was expansive, and also, he was just a nice dude. Bring along gas cans, filled in Riohacha, the last stop with true gas stations. Bring more cookies than you think you'll need, or better yet, bring bags of water. In retrospect, we wished we had brought water, which we hadn't realized was an option until too late. It is a more useful thing to give out in an area beset with difficult survival, drought and poverty,

If you are not planning a trip to the area, we highly recommend that you do.

Maggie Tokuda-Hall is the author of Also an Octopus, and the cohost of the Let's Not Panic podcast, which chronicles her trip in a Toyota 4Runner from San Francisco to Patagonia.

Because I'm a bookseller and a nerd, I read Ready Player One by Ernest Cline and totally enjoyed it. I'm not a 100% match for it (not an 80's media savant, nor particularly inclined to arcade games) but I am a reader who enjoys a page-turner about nerdy kids sticking it to the man. So, I really, really liked Ready Player One because of that.

I loved Armada.

The geekery and the furiously paced plot from Ready Player One are still there, so I imagine it will please most of his existing fans. But I suspect that Armada will garner him an even larger group of fans than the formidable crew he's already assembled.

I've heard the critique that, occasionally, in his debut, Cline perhaps laid the reference game a little thick on the ground for no purpose other than that he's into that stuff— and in so doing did not appeal to some readers. I liked Ready Player One despite having never played a game of Joust in my life, but I saw the point those critics made. I think, at it's best, Ready Player One's call outs serve to make readers feel included in this otherwise unreal and distant future, and there's nothing wrong with inclusion.

That feeling of inclusion still runs strong in Armada. But the references are broader (those few people left in the world who haven't seen Star Wars aren't going to be into this anyway, so whatever) and more than that, they're central to the plot.

Understanding the sci-fi media landscape is integral to appreciating the whole story. And aside from being a super fun, propulsive book perfect for your summer reading needs, it's also an apt criticism about how we talk about the potential intelligent life forms with whom we might share the universe.

Why does the way we talk about aliens that may or may not exist at all matter? Because what we're talking about when we talk about aliens isn't just science fiction. It's about how we talk about what we don't know, what we don't understand. And that's the same mental exercise we do every day, whenever we interact with someone who feels different, or other than ourselves.

And that's the crux of why my love for Armada runs deeply. It's a joyous, rollicking read. But it's also a sneaky discussion on xenophobia, miscommunication and what real courage is.

With hella drones.

And let's be real.

Drones are cool

Ernest Cline's Armada

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Some days are harder than others. And on the harder days, you need GIFs.

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"And now that you do not have to be perfect, you can be good." –From East of Eden

On Feb. 27, 1902, American author John Steinbeck was born in Monterey County, California. (more…)

If you're looking for a comprehensive explanation for modern life is how it is, there are probably other books to read. But if you're looking for something light, informative and fun, HOW WE GOT TO NOW is just the thing.
There's also a PBS TV show that goes along with it.

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Caldecott winner Jon Klassen, is one of the most respected and beloved contemporary children's book authors and illustrators. Kids love him—and adults do, too.

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Graphic designer, Florian Schommer, created a bunch of animated letters of the alphabet! If only I could read German, so I could know more about what he was thinking.

The Verizon guy would have made an endearing science officer.

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Are you ready for some mind-altering, existential truth? Then by all means, behold: Cookie Monster. Not afraid to ask the difficult questions, his inquiring mind is like a tour guide for the hungry.

Her series "Alien Camp" uses gel filters to help create a dreamy, painterly aesthetic as beautiful as it is strange. (via)

Harvey Keitel, Klaus Kinski and underwater boobs star in this low-budget b-movie from 1985. And there's probably no better way to celebrate the 30th birthday of something this weird than just to watch it.

Above is a clip starring a flying goat. Below is the rest.

There's something really unnerving about this little snail eating lunch. It's too gross to be adorable, but too adorable to be gross. Are his little antennae an emotional reaction?

I found out about the colony in a roundabout way. There wasn't a press release announcing its inception, nor were there any articles advertising its whereabouts. (more…)

Clara is here to cast some perspective on that ramen noodle and Mountain Dew diet you "invented" in college, at 2am. She's 91 years old, and she's here to show us all how to cook on a budget. (more…)

Artist Fran Krause keeps one of the best Tumblrs ever, with cartoons of his own as well as anonymously submitted deep dark fears. He also worked on Over the Garden Wall, an amazing animated miniseries from Cartoon Network. So apparently everything he touches is awesome.

What I love about this Tumblr isn't just that the drawings are sharp, or that it is told in a consistently empathetic voice. It's that it makes our shared neuroses and fears a thing we can all laugh at, and laugh at together. Which is a pretty profound punch to pack in four panels.

You can follow Deep Dark Feels on Twitter, as well. And you totally should.

If you're in the San Francisco Bay area, you can pregame Season 5 of Game of Thrones at my new favorite SF bar, Blackbird. Why? Because Cersei throws down, and you should too. (more…)