The Vogel family hardly looks like a clan of serious cyclists. In their pictures, John, Nancy and their twin 8-year-old ankle-biters Davy and Daryl are often wearing cotton, sometimes denim, and no sweat-wicking jerseys in sight ever bear so much as the oft pervasive sponsor logo. Is that what a cyclist should look like anyway?

No, not necessarily. A cyclist is someone riding a bike, end of story. If anything, the Vogel folk just look like a standard, chipper suburbanite family headed down the driveway and around the block for a Saturday afternoon of some wind in the hair.

Except they didn't go for a short spin. Instead, they threw down over 9 thousand miles on a ride across the U.S. and Mexico.

Last I heard, Jackson, Wyoming is enjoying a lovely 10-degree low and taking on an inch or two of fluff during some awfully pleasant snow flurries. They say the skiing's not that great this year, either. So prepare yourself. Corners of the American Sonoran Desert are invoking cliché lyrics to Jimmy Buffet songs at 74 degrees during the day and chilling the bones at night around 45. Those are facts, so pack the bikes and come on down. 38 Photos . . .

Camera: Canon 5D | Lens: EF24-105mm | Setting: f/7.1, 30sec, ISO 1000

From us to you, good reader, a New Year wish. The place to be on this recent New Year's Eve, for us and an assortment of friends anyway, was a far off slice of beach on the Sea of Cortés down in ol' Mexico. And we couldn't stop thinking of you. It's a place that's good for kids, clean and empty, and as relaxing or as adventurous as . . .

If you've been to this space before, you might already know about our little love affair with funky and cool campervans. But this Volkswagen LT 40 inspires a whole new level of bliss and wonder for classic, or not-so-classic, Griswolding. Uh oh, and she's for sale. Alas, she's all the way across the pond in Scotland. It's a 1988 unit that underwent a two year rebuild by a dad who intended to take his family of five through Africa, but as Jed from Campervan Culture tells us, the plans changed. The project was completed in 2010, including a shiny new 2.4 TD motor. It's almost a shame to put so much energy (and cold, hard-earned cash!) into a such a significant project only to have to part with her before a grand voyage. The van in its current state has hardly been driven around the block with a mere 3400 kilometers (2100 miles) on that new engine.

Watch this video and hang on till 0:38 and enjoy the sweet sound of her purr . . .

Camera: Canon 5D | Lens: EF24-105mm | Setting: f/6.3, 30 sec, ISO 1000

You don't have to be all that hardcore to be out in the Sonoran Desert in winter. During the day, the ol' mercury could easily rise to to a steamy 80 degrees. At night though, it's not uncommon for the shiver point to begin around 55 or 54 and bottom out at 35. You'll get just a light frost in the morning. It ought to be a crime.

It has some downsides. Like scorpions and a lot of . . .

Down in the ol' grungy southwest U.S., you'd think we'd be more tuned into the upsides of the poncho for our winter kit. Especially for the kids. Ponchos are the warm garment of choice for native Andean folk and other pre-Hispanic cultures of Central and South America. But the poor things get misrepresented and misconstrued from the bad guys with straps of bullets around their chests in old Clint Eastwood flicks, to the late night infomercials extolling the virtues of the blanket with sleeves called the snuggie. Add to that, outdoors folk tend to hear the word poncho and think, "That's a plastic thing inside the pocket of my emergency kit I got for 99 cents in case it rains." It's no wonder we just don't see classier version of ponchos at all.

That's about to change . . .

When Stuart Wickes and Kirstie Pelling got married, they honeymooned for six months in South America. Actually they rode their bicycles through South America. Not a bad way to celebrate the blissful bells that mark the blessings of becoming ball and chain. Six months later they arrived in Tierra del Fuego. As you can imagine, this was one incredible adventure honeymoon full of sweet memories. For example, the pair took a week's work as a crew on a yacht, negotiating the fjords and island clusters of southern Chile.

It was no ordinary vessel. You could say it changed their lives  . . .

Canyonlands National Park, Utah

Pay not a dime as you drive (or walk or bike or levitate) on through the entrance gate at any National Park this weekend November 11-13, 2011. But a wave and a  smile to the attendant would be nice, remember your manners. It starts Friday and lasts through Sunday. Pack up those kids and charge up the camera batteries. What's your flavor? Yosemite, Carlsbad Caverns, Bryce Canyon?

You can safely assume that this is a product I've never tried.

Because a large percentage of our readers are in fact lovely ladies, and even though I'm not a woman, I think this very much belongs in our Mom's Blog column. And because I live with two women, one of whom is 4 years old and doesn't quite understand why it's a problem to pee all over her shoes and socks when we're away from a real potty, I have enough experience to know the GoGirl likely has a future home in our own gear stash . . .

There is little chance that anyone's pancakes on planet Earth can beat those of Chris "BajaTaco" Marzonie. He has the temperature dialed in just right on his camp stove that toasts each pancake with a joyous, nameless heavenly color. The sweet-scented steam rises with a gentle whisper. But is that all?

No, there's more. It gets much better. He custom tailors each one to the indulgences of the stomach to which it's destined . . .

Summertime in Colorado's San Juan Mountains

You need some kind of contraption to get you and the munchkins to the crag. To the break. To the trailhead. To the put-in. Or you just need a machine to get you down a dirt road that'll get you to a sweet spot on the coast of Baja. But vehicles reach into your life far beyond "a thing to get me from A to B." They become an extension of your personality, for better or worse, and I like to think of it as a delicate coalescence of superfluous love affair and absolute necessity. I could be wrong.

In the quest for the ultimate adventure vehicle, family or no family, love at first sight is rare. Maybe not impossible, but certainly rare. When we bought this 2005 Nissan Frontier Crew Cab, we also had a 2002 bright red Jeep. So I wasn't sure, really, how I'd get along with this new truck. But we drove it home and went about the business of, oh, slowly tweaking some things to make it suitable for our style of travel while adhering to the old wisdom: "Pay no attention to anything not nailed down."

When another "Top 10 Best" feature in a magazine lands in my paws, I'm probably just as put off and pulled in as anybody with a moment of disdain and wonder: did my beloved _____ make the list? The perfect formula to spark your curiosity strokes both love and hate. We hate to see our little home town or favorite Sunday breakfast restaurant overused and under appreciated by the public but a part of us also loves to see recognition for the places, people and things that shape our personal lives. Right?

My buds bombed my inbox a few times this summer. Several of them hit the backroads of the American west on solo trips, just Dad and the kids. Nearly every one told me some variation of this: "Just got home, bro! I'm beat, exhausted, dirty, smelly, didn't get enough sleep, didn't rest enough, it was more work than it was relaxation, totally kicked my ass, but I'm looking forward to doing that again!"

They so perfectly summed up parenthood, didn't they?

Oh, come on now, it looks much more complicated than it really is. Though they're atypical, roof top tents could very well be the answer to the comfort woes of those who don't approve of sleeping on the ground. Inside (and up top) is a pleasant foam mattress the size of a queen bed. Plus you'll appreciate that private stand-up space within the walls of the lower room when it comes time to change your underwear, take a shower, or bail out of the rain. As you can see, one entire side of that lower portion also detaches and rolls up; it could also be staked outward in awning fashion giving you a lovely veranda under which to sip morning coffee, listen to songbirds, and get amped up for a bike ride in the pines. Or whatever.

Like all things in life, this comfort comes with a trade off or two . . .

I wanted to title this, "The S'mores That Are Probably Better Than Sex" but decided that might be too strong. And likely inaccurate. Say not another word about it, Mark. Not one more . . .

By now, everyone should know about the upsides of bringing a "kid's tent" for a play area. But when is the time right for kids to sleep the whole night in their own tent?

Like many families with super little ones, we like to pack along a small ground tent for the kids to play in during the day. I've secretly been hanging onto the hope that the kids will get this bright idea and go, "We want to camp in here tonight!" But get this - my plan is to say no way. Use it as leverage, and dangle it out in front of them a bit. "Finish your vegetables, then we'll think about letting you two camp in your own tent someday." Yes, I'm playing with fire here. But I want them to want it so bad that their hopes will be sky high. Because, truthfully, I want them to feel so elated and stoked when it finally happens that no bump or noise or coyote howl in the night can possibly spook them back into bed with me. I'm terrible, I know.

Well. Gee. It hasn't worked like that. Go figure. So far it's never occurred to them to want to camp in their own kids-only tent. This isn't going the way I want it to go. Hmph. Should I be surprised? That's practically the pure definition of fatherhood . . .

If it's one thing Adventure Parents is all about, it's the parents. Not the kids. They're spoiled enough, right? The Sealander amphibious camping trailer just slid into my inbox from a friend, and, the way I see it, it's far too small for a family, but just right for the blissful consenting couple.

It's barely more than a water-going cottage in which you can snuggle up . . .

If you too are scratching your head at these recent hinting aromas of autumn, like school bus exhaust, and asking, "What happened to summer?" you and I are in the same boat. Unbelievable. School's back in session and we're already talking about fall break. I might live in the Sonoran Desert, but I also love the heat. And the long days of sunshine. So I hate to see the first signs that, indeed and like every year before, it's gonna go away.

In April, my wife, Brooke, and I hosted a discussion-presentation on family adventure travel at Overland Expo, and if there's anything that I learned from that, it's everyone has their own wildly varied concerns when it comes to adventure-travel and everyone is different. My absolute favorite came from a young mom with a baby just a few months old who, right away, wanted to dive into how the hell to fix her husband - it was cute and good humored, rest assured. But obviously there was a hint of truth to it . . .

Every parent who wants to get more exercise, keep up with their desire for, say, backpacking, or hit that goal to compete in a triathlon (or insert your own goal), wonders how other parents do it. And the big one, especially for first time parents, is as simple as how do you take a baby camping for the first time? The truth is none of us are experts at this business of juggling family responsibilities with our outdoor pursuits. We're all winging it in different ways because our children are dynamic critters with their own personalities, quirks, and soft spots. And so are we.

Ah! But there's hope, good person. Read on.

Anyone who's pulled off a long term camping road trip with the family understands that it's not always high on stoke and low on tantrums. Thankfully, the most thrilling parts of a trip actually come decidedly as the answer to a problem.

Believing we had more choices and time than possible, last summer in Baja we tinkered around far too long one day before looking for a beach to camp on. That's kind of typical in the Stephens Family, which is probably why our friends get headaches when we invite them on a trip with us. A few days before, a pair of surfers grabbed us by the shoulders and peered square into our eyes and declared "You like fish tacos, bra? Let me tell you where the best fish tacos in Baja are . . ."

I resisted a minivan for years. Instead I preferred to shove a kid, a dog, a weeks worth of camping/outdoor gear (and on one occasion 3 chickens) into or on top of our wagon. There was zero floor space anywhere, I couldn’t move my feet, rarely could you see out the back window, it smelled like dog breath and because we didn’t have tinted windows I once saw someone taking a photo of us with their cell phone. It was apparently a sight to behold.

I finally caved after Isaac was born. It took one road trip with an additional kid/car seat and I was done, a 2001 Toyota Sienna it was. You may be asking why not an SUV? Well, minivans are just far superior. Theeeey ummm, well, . . .

Yes, cardboard box. What? Why are you laughing?

Because I receive a good number of emails about our 12-volt fridge/freezer that we have in our truck, I posted earlier five things you should know about them to help answer the usual questions. I know and understand that an $800+ fridge inside the ol' family ride just isn't in the cards for most folks, so it came as quite  a surprise when, as I was working on that article, an email slid into my inbox introducing me to this sustainably-minded cardboard cooler from Boutique Cascades.

You read that right. Cardboard. I heard that chuckle, you. Take a look at this thing anyway.