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As I mentioned in my last post, I recently ventured to Yellowstone National Park in northern Wyoming. True, it was a business trip – well, technically, a press trip, which, for a travel writer, amounts to the same thing as a business trip – but that didn't prevent me from having a great time.
In fact, it was the first time that I'd ever seen Montana or Wyoming – much less Yellowstone – in my life, and the only thing that would have made the experience more enjoyable was if I'd been able to take my husband, Dan, along for the ride.
Although it would require several posts to describe all that I saw, did, and ate while away from home for a week, I thought that it might be more interesting to note some of the “firsts” that happened to me – through pictures as well as words. (Just note that, save for the two specified below, all photographs were taken by me.)
Here, then, is my first look at snowy Montana from an airplane window.
This is my first roadside encounter with a bison in the wild (which, incidentally, happened in Yellowstone's Lamar Valley).
Here's the first pair of snowshoes that I ever strapped on and attempted to hike in (not a bad way to experience the Mammoth Hot Springs Terraces)!
From the look of shock on my face (that's me in the front, with Serena and Molly behind me), it might be easy to guess that this is the first time I ever emerged from boiling hot springs (the Boiling River, to be exact) in a frigid winter landscape. (photo courtesy of Donnie Sexton)
Here's the first snowcoach in which I've ever ridden (the only way to traverse most of Yellowstone National Park in the wintertime) – that's Suzanne, by the way, standing in front.
Here's my first look at Old Faithful blowing her top! Isn't she beautiful, particularly in the winter?
Here's a dimly lit ice-skating rink near Old Faithful, site of my first solo ice-skating experience (without rails, surrounded by snow drifts, and beneath a canopy of stars).
This is the first time that I ever made a snow angel (not far from some wild bison on a geyser plateau) – that's me in the middle, by the way, with Serena and Molly on either side. (photo courtesy of Donnie Sexton)
This is the first time that I ever wore a snowmobile suit and, yes, rode a snowmobile (which is great fun in the forests beyond West Yellowstone)! (photo courtesy of Donnie Sexton)!
And that's just a sampling of my adventures in and around Yellowstone – a once-in-a-lifetime trip that I will always treasure.
So, have you ever been there?
The last time that I saw snow, it was a rather unimpressive flurry in northern Michigan. Because it happened during the springtime, it didn't leave much of a presence behind. Well, as I just mentioned on my American Nomad blog, I'll soon be headed to Yellowstone National Park – where I'm guaranteed to see some of the frozen white stuff – and with any luck, this New Orleans girl will survive the crazy temperatures. To my Northern friends I ask, is five layers overkill?
As a native of the Crescent City, I've long been a fan of trains and streetcars. During college, I relished taking Amtrak's City of New Orleans to Chicago and back, and since I was a kid, I've enjoyed numerous rides aboard the Big Easy's historic streetcar line. So, it's no wonder that I often have railways on the brain. If you're a fan, too, take a look at my picks for some of the finest railroad museums along America's East Coast, in the Midwestern and Southern states, and throughout the American West – not to mention some of the best trolley museums in the country.
So, do you have a favorite?
Two weeks ago, I took a solo drive to visit my online buddy and fellow writer Bridget Chicoine, who lives more than 100 miles south of my home in Michigan. For many of you, that might not sound like a big deal, but as you'd learn by reading my recent post on my American Nomad blog, this was a huge deal for me. In truth, I was terrified of driving as a teenager, so much so that I didn't get my driver's license until I was 22 years old. Since then, I haven't driven nearly as often as I should, so now, at the age of 34, I've finally made driving a priority. As part of my “training,” I typically drive at least one way on any trip that Dan and I take, whether we're driving one mile to pick up groceries or more than 70 miles to see a movie – but making a 210-mile, round-trip journey by myself was a first for me... and I've never felt more liberated.
So, when have you ever ventured out of your comfort zone... and more importantly, how did it feel?
As a travel writer, I've explored a variety of destinations and activities over the years – from RV-ing down Interstate 40 to snorkeling in southern Florida – but I certainly haven't gone everywhere or done everything I've wanted to. Horseback riding in Costa Rica, sampling wines in southern France, exploring the Great Barrier Reef... the fantasy list goes on and on. Perhaps it's that kind of dreaming – and curiosity about other folks' wish lists – that inspired today's “What If?” blog post on Come In Character.
So, where would you go if you had endless amounts of time, money, and, perhaps most importantly, energy?
Wow. I can't believe three weeks have transpired since my last post. Boy, when a once dedicated blogger falls, she really falls. Sadly, my only excuse is work... of the travel variety, of course. Over the past few weeks, I've finally finished my Moon Florida Keys travel guidebook, signed a contract for the latest edition of Moon Michigan, discovered that some of my travel secrets were included in a cool collaborative project intended to benefit a global clean water initiative, compiled a list of America's top 15 budget-friendly destinations, and participated in a 20-station satellite radio tour about said budget-friendly destinations. During this curious radio tour, several hosts asked me how I ended up in my present travel-writing career. Without hesitation, I blamed – I mean, thanked – my mom for my current endeavors. It was she, after all, who took me on my most memorable road trips as a kid – to places as far afield as San Antonio, the Rocky Mountains, Washington, D.C., even Canada. No wonder I do what I do for a living – albeit, a meager one. If only I could make room for some time to finish my novel – and check in with my ol' blogosphere pals. 'Cause, boy, do I miss keeping up with their thoughts and adventures.
So, that said, I'm just curious... what have y'all been up to lately?
You’re not going to believe this, but we’re moving again. Yes, it’s unbelievable, but absolutely true.
When we first arrived in the New Orleans area last month, the film festival was only a few weeks away, and we didn’t have much time to look for a place. So, we had to settle for a temporary spot just outside the city, while we prepared for the festival. But, now that the festival is over, it’s time to relocate to a better locale in the French Quarter – which, happily, we found yesterday.
Of course, with how often we come to New Orleans, you’d think we’d already have a permanent apartment, but you’d be wrong. Goodness knows it would make life easier if we didn’t always have to search for a sublet every time we ventured into town, but we have yet to find a permanent situation – mainly because we’re always slammed with festival duties. Hopefully, that’ll change this spring, when we return from our adventures – or should I say misadventures? – in the Florida Keys and Los Angeles. But, for now, we’ll be moving – tomorrow. Won’t the kitty be pleased?
Although, as I’ve previously reported, I’m not a fan of packing and unpacking, I do love the fact that Dan and I have called so many places home. In the decade we’ve been together, we’ve lived in over twenty different domiciles, from a flat in the English countryside to a roving RV to a French Quarter apartment with a lovely courtyard (pictured here with Dan, my stepmom, and my dad). It might sound crazy to others – including our parents – but we truly embrace our nomadic lifestyle. The scenery is ever evolving, and boredom is never an issue for us. As a bonus, when the apocalypse comes in 2012, we’ll be well versed in hitting the road. Of course, if the latest Roland Emmerich flick has it right, there won’t be anywhere to run – at least here in America.
Well, we’re close to Louisiana now – and thank goodness! Long car trips aren’t what they used to be... or maybe I’m not what I used to be.
True, the changing scenery is lovely, and the sudden rainstorms are revitalizing (if only because we have to concentrate on not getting blown off the road), but by the end of the journey, my head aches, my body’s itching for some exercise, and my spirit cries out for some much-needed meditation.
Luckily, though, it’s still possible to get my daily dose of yoga on the road. Rest areas – especially pleasant ones with shady trees – are terrific places to do some of the bigger postures (downward facing dog, sun salutation, etc.) – as long as you don’t mind a few odd stares.
Hotel rooms aren’t so bad either – some are even spacious enough for me to unfurl my yoga mat. Even in a small hotel room, you’d be surprised how creative I can get with my yoga routine – the half-moon, tree, and eagle poses are ideal for cramped spaces. Besides, you really don’t need much space to sit still for a while and concentrate on nothing more than your breathing.
Doing yoga on the move might not be ideal, but it’s better than nothing. So, what concessions do you have to make on long journeys?
As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been a frequent visitor to a site called Come In Character, where authors and characters can interact in a creative, sometimes therapeutic way. Well, yesterday marked my first day as a regular contributor to the site, and perhaps due to my current frame of mind, I decided to focus on “frustration” as a conversation starter.
As it turned out, several authors and their characters had frustrations of their own, which was infinitely reassuring. Not that I wish misery on anyone else, but sometimes, when you’re feeling a bit lost – hurt by the economy, confused about your path in life, doubtful that your fiction will ever see the light of day, and overwhelmed by the responsibilities and promises in your life – it reassures you to know that you’re not alone in your daily struggle... that you’re not like this sad gorilla, isolated by your own dismay.
Airing a few of my frustrations and hearing others’ troubles – even in an entertaining forum like Come In Character – actually urged me to consider the things that routinely make me feel happy, grateful, inspired, and tranquil – especially when life seems most stressful and uncertain. In no particular order, here are my eleven keys to serenity:
Willie’s music: Even as a child, I found Willie Nelson’s unique voice incredibly soothing, and his laidback spirit extremely inspiring. I listened to my mom’s records often – so much so that he quickly became my favorite musician – and still is today. I’ve even seen him in concert on more than one occasion – once, on a trip to Branson, Missouri, with my mom, and, several years later, at the House of Blues in Chicago. When I was considering a career in the U.U. ministry (a long story that I won’t divulge today), I even wrote and delivered a sermon about him – in particular, about how spirituality can be found in the most unlikely of places. For me, a lifelong atheist, I’d always gotten a spiritual jolt from Willie’s songs – somehow, his words and music calmed me in a way that prayers do for others. Even today, when deadlines and commitments threaten to break me, I just have to listen to one of his many albums, and the stress dissipates. While many different types of music – from movie scores to Irish ballads – can calm me, too, there’s nothing quite like Willie – whatever you might think of him, he’s truly one-of-a-kind.
Favorite flicks: Some of my favorite movies can do the trick, too. Whenever the current state of publishing unnerves me – whenever the stiff competition, troublesome guidelines, and improbable odds make me question the sanity of my writing goals – I simply have to watch one of my favorite life-affirming flicks, from Waking Ned Devine (1998) to Wonder Boys (2000), and I’m back on the path again.
Good food: What can I say? I was born and raised in New Orleans – how could food not be a big part of my life? In fact, it’s often too big a part of my life – I depend on it, at times, for more than just sustenance. Certain foods – like raw oysters, dark chocolate, sweet cherries, tomato basil bisque, havarti cheese, kalamata olives, and lemon poppyseed muffins – have a way of bringing me a lasting moment of joy and reminding me that there’s a lot to appreciate in this complicated world. Of course, when it comes to yummy foods, it’s all about portion control – not just for health reasons, but also because the less often I indulge, the more I appreciate it when I do.
Yoga: As I explained in a recent post, I’ve been practicing yoga (off and on) for nearly a decade, and the only thing that derails me at times is my inability to stick to a schedule. It actually has nothing to do with yoga itself – which I absolutely adore. Like many people, though, I often let projects and responsibilities usurp things like exercise – and it’s a constant struggle to realign my priorities. But when I do make time for a few yoga poses, it does wonders for my body as well as my psyche – and relaxes me like nothing else. Maybe what I need is more yoga and less cheese in my life. Hmm... that’s something to think about.
Natural world: Although I grew up in an urban area, I’ve always loved the outdoors. Whether camping in a forest, hiking up a mountain, fishing in a bayou, swimming alongside a beach, even exploring the desert, I feel a sense of wonder and peace in the natural world. That’s why I love living in northern Michigan during the summer months. It’s hard to stay stressed in such a beautiful, somewhat remote place. A long walk in the woods or a nice swim in the lake is usually all it takes for me to relax and refocus. If only I could take this clean air with me back to New Orleans and Los Angeles.
Meditation: Yoga certainly incorporates an element of meditation. Key poses – such as “cat” and “corpse” – as well as the focus on breathing help me to quiet my thoughts, unwind my nerves, and concentrate on, well, nothing. But sometimes, it’s nice to roll up the yoga mat, find an out-of-the-way place, and simply sit still for a while, meditating on the cosmic web, the meaning of life, my place in the world, or nothing at all. In our fast-paced world, it’s hard to take such time for ourselves, but I always feel better after I do.
Sleep: No matter what I do, it seems as though my “to do” list grows longer every day, and my schedule gets more inconsistent all the time. Ironically, though I make less money now as a freelancer than I did when I worked for “The Man,” I find that I work harder and have crazier hours than I ever did when I was living a normal post-college life in Chicago. I’m juggling so much more these days, and sleep is not the priority that it once was. That’s not a good thing, I know – as my mother is fond of telling me, poor sleep habits can cause all sorts of problems down the road, from hypertension and heart disease to stroke and cancer. Besides body health, though, sleep is also excellent for mental health – something I experience for myself whenever I manage to get a good night’s sleep, and I must admit there’s nothing quite like waking up after a solid rest and a medley of memorable dreams, some of which have inspired my stories.
Writing passion: This might seem bizarre, but sometimes, when I’m feeling discouraged by the modern publishing industry and stressed by all the revision work ahead of me, I find strength and peace in the realization that there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than writing. I wrote skits as a child, short stories and scripts as a teenager, longer works (like novellas and screenplays) in college, and a novel in my post-college life – and at every step of the way, I’ve loved escaping into the worlds I’ve created and interacting with my characters. They’ve calmed me – even when the road to publishing seems insurmountable – and given me a reason to keep trying.
Rich experiences: I think it’s easy for all of us to slip into regret and disillusionment at times. Am I on the right career path? Am I with the right person? Should I have waited to have kids? Should I go back to school? Should I have sewn my wild oats when I had the chance? No matter what the pressing issue at the moment, it’s critical that we embrace the positive aspects of our life experiences. When I’m feeling down about something or confused about my direction, I try to focus on the rich experiences that have defined my life: fishing excursions with my dad, road trips with my mom, close relationships with my grandparents, my vision quest experience as an adolescent, good times at Northwestern, all of the unusual travels that I’ve shared with my husband, and all the crazy things we’ve seen over the years (including the Florida Keys’ obsession with manatee mailboxes). And I realize that I wouldn’t trade any of those memories for all the money and fame in the world.
Supportive hubby: No doubt about it – what really keeps me going at times is the love, respect, and support that I get from my husband. Dan is truly my best friend, my favorite traveling companion, and the person who keeps me on track when stress and self-doubt threaten to derail me. He encourages me when the odds of publishing success seem impossible. He urges me to keep trying, no matter what, and in the immortal words of Galaxy Quest to “never give up, never surrender.” Hopefully, I do the same for him.
Loving kitty: During the first week of this blog, I posted an ode to my cat, Ruby Azazel, a furry feline with a sweet face, an affectionate nature, and a mind of her own. What I said then still holds true today. “When the best of intentions fall apart, all I have to do is look at Ruby – sleeping on a pillow, nibbling treats from my palm, staring at a chipmunk outside the window, leaping up and down the stairs, or doing one of a dozen other favorite activities – and I feel a great sense of calm, love, and perspective. Because most things – save for perhaps death or the knowledge of some terminal illness – aren't worth all the worry through which we put ourselves. One look at my crazy, little girl, and I know that’s true.”
So, what helps you overcome stress, frustration, self-doubt, and all the other nasty little entities that plague us at times?
For my American Nomad blog, I recently posted an article about train travel. Although Dan and I frequently travel by car, we’ve certainly been known to board a train or two over the years. Before I even met Dan, I had ridden my fair share of trains, even taking Amtrak’s City of New Orleans from the Big Easy (my hometown) to Chicago (where I was attending college at the time). And right after meeting Dan (but before we were an “item”), I took a trip to Italy, where I experienced a six-hour train ride from Venice to Rome – what an amazing journey that was!
When Dan and I lived in England, we often used trains to get from Henley-on-Thames, where we were living, to towns like Reading and London. It really was a more efficient and less harrowing way to travel than driving on Britain’s poorly marked roadways. And, of course, while residing in places like Chicago and Los Angeles, we used the public trains a lot – especially in the Windy City, which has a truly incredible system. Chicago’s trains almost always got us to our destination on time – whether it was an office building in the Loop or the Midway airport – and it was so much cheaper and faster than driving in the Chicagoland area.
Although I never collected trains as a child, I’ve always been fascinated with them. Despite the decline in U.S. train travel over the past century, America’s history will forever be intertwined with locomotives – and there’s nothing quite like riding the rails. If you don’t have time for a lengthy Amtrak journey, there are plenty of smaller lines throughout the country, offering short, nostalgic train rides for visitors. And, in lieu of that, you can always take the silly tourist train rides on offer in certain resort towns, such as Key West’s Conch Tour Train. Hey, don’t laugh – it’s fun!
While doing my research for the travel article, I discovered this interesting partnership between Amtrak and the National Park Service. Called Trails & Rails, the program “provides rail passengers with educational opportunities that foster an appreciation of a selected region’s natural and cultural heritage... promotes National Park Service areas...” and attempts “to encourage train ridership” – which I think is pretty awesome. Apparently, Amtrak and the National Park Service are also helping to celebrate the next National Train Day (yes, we have one of those), which is scheduled for next May. I’m personally heartened by all this attention to train travel, which is slowly becoming a thing of the past.
So, do any of you have fond memories of past train rides? Or is it time to take your first trip?
As with lots of other folks, Dan and I often combine our travel plans with our hobbies and interests. For many people, a trip could revolve around a specific activity – like hunting, fishing, hiking, skiing, scuba diving, and the like. In our case, it seems that treasure hunting often plays a role in our adventures.
Years ago, when we were still living in the Windy City, we made two such trips that I can remember – one to Crater of Diamonds State Park in southwestern Arkansas and one to the Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park in northern California. With both trips, it was Dan who discovered the sites and urged us to go.
We first visited Crater of Diamonds – “the world’s only diamond site where you can search and keep what you find” – in May of 2000. Upon our initial viewing, it didn’t look like much – just an ordinary farmer’s field, before the crops have emerged. Plowed into neat little rows, the soggy dirt patch seemed no place for a sparkling diamond, but that’s the reason we were there. After purchasing our inexpensive day passes, we gathered our strainers, spades, gloves, and buckets, and trekked across the field. Although April would have been a better time to visit – when the seasonal rains cause the diamonds and other precious stones (including agate and amethyst) to rise to the surface – we were eager to begin our search.
Beside a sheltered screening area, we filled a bucket with dirt, scooped a few handfuls onto our screens, and patiently shook the box frames in the water bin. When nothing but rocks and potential gems were left in our screens, we turned them over on a nearby workbench to let the gravel piles dry before sifting through them more carefully. We spent much of the day repeating that process, and though we discovered no diamonds, we were surprised by how many interesting rocks and minerals could be found in several handfuls of ordinary-looking dirt. Of course, it’s the possibility that lured visitors like us – the possibility that we would find a record-breaking jewel, like the 40-carat Uncle Sam excavated at the Crater in 1924.
As for our trip to northern California, we went with the intention of searching for gold flakes and nuggets in the crystalline waters of the American River. At the Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park visitor center, Dan and I purchased two black gold-sifting pans and drove to a picturesque spot along the South Fork. While Dan alternately fished and sifted for gold flakes, I roamed the shore, taking in our lovely surroundings. When I spotted a mass of blackberry bushes, I finally recognized the real treasure of the American River. Later, in our hotel room, we stared at the gold flecks in our tiny vial and gorged ourselves on delicious blackberries. Now, wherever I go, I am more likely to hunt for simple treasures like wild strawberries before ever wondering about the gems that might be hidden beneath the surface.
So, when we finally hit the road in the fall of 2000 and journeyed to South Padre Island in southern Texas to meet a notorious treasure hunter named Steve Hathcock, I was less interested in finding buried coins and jewels than in discovering more natural treasures. During the course of several trips with Steve (over several ensuing years) into the deserted mudflats of northern South Padre, Dan discovered some interesting items (without the benefit of a metal detector) – items such as a massive rusted chain and an old Civil War bullet.
While I was proud of such finds – and intrigued by the drift seeds, sea glass, and sea coconuts that we found along the shore – I was even prouder when I made a discovery of my own: the intact, windblown skull of what appeared to be a coyote. Steve and his partner, Kay Lay, were so impressed, in fact, that they decided to display the skull in their small natural history museum in town. I couldn’t have been happier if I’d uncovered an old Spanish galleon just brimming with treasure chests. Of course, that’s easier said when you have yet to discover such a find.
Tomorrow, Dan and I will celebrate our ten-year “relationship” anniversary. To be accurate, our actual wedding anniversary is in January – but since little changed between us when we got hitched in Las Vegas back in 2001 – I consider the day of our first official date (July 22, 1999) the true start of our strange adventure together.
All technicalities aside, the point of my rambling is that thinking about our anniversary led me to reflect upon the myriad travels we’ve experienced together – across the United States and beyond. And those thoughts led to yet another one... about being grateful for what we have.
Let’s be honest – no matter how hard we try, most of us complain more often than we should. Whether it’s about an incident that happened at work, something a relative said or did, a story heard on the news, a terrible headache that just won’t go away, or any one of a million other day-to-day issues, we all have moments in which we focus more on the negative than the positive... a fact that does much to strip us of the happiness and peace of mind that we each deserve.
Sadly, I’m often guilty of such negativity, and it usually takes something momentous – like the untimely passing of a friend or relative – to jolt me from my daily routine and inspire me to live each moment as if it were my last. But I’m trying – really trying – to stop worrying about the past (or the future, for that matter) and embrace the here and now. The key, for me, is to focus not just on the good things in my life – like my parents and in-laws, my husband and kitty, my passion for writing, my occasional sense of humor, and so forth – but to also concentrate on the elements that usually go unnoticed by those that possess them – like a reasonable use of my five senses.
After all, how much poorer would all my travel experiences with Dan have been if I couldn’t see the brilliant Colorado River snaking through the Grand Canyon, if I couldn’t hear the constant clicks and bells in a Las Vegas casino, if I couldn’t smell the seafood gumbo in the French Quarter, if I couldn’t feel the ever-present breeze on South Padre Island, if I couldn’t touch the soft rose petals at the Huntington Gardens? I am truly grateful for all five of my precious senses – even on the days when the sunlight nearly blinds me, the winners’ screams almost deafen me, the trash on Bourbon Street makes me want to stuff my nostrils, the wind blows scratchy sand against my cheek, and a thorn pricks my finger.
While I wouldn’t trade any of my senses for all the money in the world, I think I’d be most lost without my hearing. I simply wouldn’t be willing to part with the ability to hear my favorite bands, practice my guitar, take the stage at a karaoke bar, or listen to the varied soundscapes that have defined my travels over the past ten years. All I have to do is close my eyes, and I can hear the clip-clop of the passing horse-drawn carriages in New Orleans, the screeching seagulls and crashing waves on South Padre Island, and the singing birds and rustling trees of northern Michigan. Oh, yes, I’m grateful for my ears, for my memories, and for everything else in my life.
Just what sensations will tomorrow bring?
