Tag Archive for: #bereavedmom

Lessons on Mountain Climbing

/in /by

Emily Harrington grew up with two boy cousins who challenged her to outperform them. From water skiing to hiking, camping, and downhill skiing, she wasn’t afraid to try anything. When she was 10, Emily’s family went to a festival in Boulder. There was a climbing wall for kids. Her cousins scaled the edifice pretty easily. Emily rose to the challenge and got up the wall even faster. This experience fueled Emily’s fire. Emily joined national junior climbing teams and ultimately won 5 national championships.

But Emily harbored a secret. Emily developed an eating disorder based on her belief that the smaller she was, the faster she could climb. But her tiny frame could only get her so far before her restrictive diet and lack of muscle caused issues as she began mountain climbing.

Emily’s body simply wasn’t capable of doing what was necessary for the sport.

I learned about Emily’s story while watching an excellent documentary titled Girl Climber while rehabbing from my latest injury.

You heard it right. The latest injury. I had just healed from a bone chip in my right foot from extensive hiking while in North Carolina when I hurt myself again. I developed pain in my right shoulder after an overzealous technician performing my mammogram kind of squished part of my shoulder. A month later, while walking Luna, our 12-year-old Labrador, she zigged in front of me, and I caught my left toe on an uneven sidewalk. As if in slow motion, I saw my hands extended toward the ground and thought, ‘I’m playing in a golf tournament in two days, and I can’t break a hand or wrist.’ So, I caught the brunt of the fall on my left knee and forearm. I got a little scrape on my knee, but otherwise I thought it was fine. I didn’t bruise; I didn’t really even feel any pain.

Until two days later, when I was playing in that golf tournament and on the back 9, both of my shoulders, my left one especially, started screaming at me. It was a team event, and my partner was new to the competition, and I just couldn’t see quitting. It didn’t seem right.

Lesson #1 in this cautionary tale is that in both instances when my foot hurt in North Carolina and when my shoulder hurt on the golf course, I should have stopped.

The second lesson is one that I learned through watching that documentary on Emily. I’ve been guilty of not preparing my body properly for what I put it through. I’m learning in the harshest of ways that I can no longer just go out and do an hour-long kayaking ride into strong headwinds, take a 15-mile bike ride, or even play golf without preparation. Much less on the same day.

I’ve gotten away from doing yoga, Pilates, and strength training to support my older muscles. Now, as a result, I must face the consequences.

I have my own mountain to climb as I’ve had one surgery on a completely torn supraspinatus rotator cuff muscle in my left shoulder and am facing surgery on my right, likely in December. After each operation, I have to remain in a sling for six weeks and can only take gentle walks. I will begin physical therapy once the sling comes off, ultimately taking four to six months after the last surgery to be completely healed.

The physical challenges are half of it. The emotional toll is tough too. I am fiercely independent. My husband Brad has been incredible doing simple tasks for me, like replacing the toilet paper roll and twisting open medicine bottles. He is doing all the cooking because I only have one hand to work with. I’m dangerous enough cutting things up with two hands, let alone only one. This is very humbling.

Family and friends have been amazing too, checking in on me and bolstering my spirits.

Emily went on to accomplish her goal of becoming the first woman to free climb El Capitan in Yosemite National Park in less than 24 hours. She did it through hard work, intense training, and work on her emotional well-being. She learned that the process was literally step by step, and after completing each separate stage, each pitch, she just had another one to go on to.

Photo credit: Brad Rubini

I can’t even begin to compare this set back to scaling El Capitan.

But my recovery process is the same. One step at a time, focus on the positive, do the work to heal, and continue to feed my typical positive mindset.

After all, I still have plenty of mountains left to climb.

Firefly

/in /by

The policeman had already come. Calls were made. A steady stream of visitors gifted us with their love. And casseroles. So many casseroles.

Brad, Kyle, Ian, and I clung together through that day, the news of our loss unbearable.

We did the same at bedtime, a tangle of arms and legs in our king-sized bed.

I lay awake, listening to the soft sounds of my children sleeping. A pill had been offered to help me sleep. I refused. So I struggled, my mind unable to shut down.

She was gone. Our Claire, our oldest, our little reader, dancer, big sister, fancy dresser, and feisty spirit. Gone.

I didn’t want to disturb my family in their sleep, so I got up. I went to the bathroom. Came back to bed. Got up again.

I grabbed a pillow and went downstairs to the sofa in the front room. The same room where the “time-out” chair sat in the corner, facing outside the big picture window. Claire spent some time there. So did I.

I pulled the throw that lived on the sofa, the same one we’d snuggle in as we read together, over me.

I closed my eyes, but the glow of the streetlight, which for years illuminated neighborhood games of flashlight tag, spilled into the room.

So too did the deep scent of the stargazer lilies from the arrangement my siblings sent that day.

A stark reminder of our heartbreak.

I gave up, thinking I’d rather lie sleepless with my family than without.

With pillow in tow, I made my way up the steps.

Then I stopped.

Something was glowing on the steps.

My eyes were blurry and dry from lack of sleep and continuous tears, so I wasn’t sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing.

I bent over, waited a second, and then, sure enough, it flashed again.

A little firefly had made its way into the house and onto my steps.

Photo credit: “Firefly on clover” by ikewinski is licensed under CC by 2.0.

It brought a smile as it lit up intermittently.

Typically, I would scoop it up and let it outside to join its fellow nighttime revelers.

But I was too tired and comforted by its presence, so I let it be.

As I walked up the stairs, images of our three little ones running around on summer nights catching them in mason jars came to mind.

I’d done the same when I was a child.

And, just as then, I would have the kids release them before turning in for the night.

They only live for such a short while; it’s not fair to hold onto them. Their lights are signals for love, I’d say. We wouldn’t want to keep them from finding love, right?

So they would open up the lids and let them fly free.

Image credit: “Fireflies leaving the glass” by Elena Schweitzer

I slipped back into bed, finally falling asleep. I woke up a few times and sensed a glow in our room. As my eyes flickered in and out of sleep, so too did the hint of light.

I was the first to get up that next morning. As I walked across the bedroom carpet, I discovered my little firefly, still blinking ever so slowly.

He had followed me up the stairs, down the hall, and into the room with my family.

I picked him up gently, walked downstairs, opened the front door, and let him go.

After all, it wasn’t fair to keep him to myself, I thought.

And just like that little firefly, I felt it wasn’t fair to keep the memories of Claire, her gifts, closed up tight.

I needed to let her spirit go, to share her passion for reading, her joy, and yes, her feisty character with all of you.

And that’s exactly what I’ve tried to do through Claire’s Day.

We lost Claire 26 years ago on this date, right in the heart of firefly season here in Ohio.

When I see all the beautiful bioluminescent creatures light up the night, I think of Claire, reaching out to signal her love.

 

 

25 Years of Celebrating Our Little Reader Gone Too Soon

/in , /by

It’s hard to fathom that our Claire left us almost 26 years ago.

And that this May we will be celebrating the 25th annual Claire’s Day festivities.

Check out the most recent Claire’s Day newsletter.

We hope if you are in the NW Ohio area in early May, that you will gather the children in your life and come join us in the celebrations!

For all the latest, click on the link below.

https://conta.cc/47MUR7b

Soul Stirring

/in /by

“When your soul stirs, take attentive note.”

So begins a beautiful book that my friend, Gayle, gifted me several years ago.

Simply Soul Stirring: Writing as a Meditative Practice has been a wonderful reminder to “be in the moment” both in writing and life.

I hope you’ve experienced those occasions where you feel pure joy…where you feel happiness down into your soul.

That feeling where your soul simply lights up.

There are always so many of these moments at our Claire’s Day celebrations.

But there’s always one that stands out.

Sanaa Orra, one of our amazing Read for Literacy/Claire’s Day team members approached me last week with this sweet child and her Mom.

“Julie, this C.A.R.E. Award winner came to the offices looking for you.  She said she wanted to get a picture with Claire’s Mom.”

Be still, my heart.

I congratulated this young girl on receiving the award in Claire’s honor for improving her reading skills. We chatted a little bit about what she likes to read. About the fun day she had. About how proud I am of her for working so hard to become a better reader.

Before they left, I gave her mom my cell phone and asked if she would be so kind as to send me the picture.

 

 

When I got the text later, the string of photos captured the essence of all our team does to continue to share Claire’s legacy.

With tears in my eyes, I texted the little girl’s mom back.

I told her that it looked like her daughter had an excellent Claire’s Day.

And I thanked her for supporting her reading journey.

Her mom’s response?

“Ms. Julie, she had a great time. Thank you for a wonderful day yesterday.

 

The following images are a perfect reflection of that excellent day.

 

 

After receiving her award, Toledo Public Schools Superintendent Dr. Romules Durant was on hand to congratulate her. Dr. Durant has joined us every year since he began serving in this role.

Those little ones are so fortunate to have such a dynamic leader guiding their futures.


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This picture of the little one and her teacher caught my breath. How the light shines on Claire…and continues to shine on the day!

We are so grateful for the hundreds of teachers who nominate their students for the award annually.

As one educator told me last year, “This is my favorite day of the year!”

Of course, part of the magic that happens at Claire’s Day is for children to have their books personally signed by the author or illustrator. Here is award-winning author/illustrator Bea Jackson with this little one. Look at just how proud they both are of their work.

Thank you to all of our Claire’s Day partners, from the incredible Read for Literacy/Claire’s Day staff to our partner schools, sponsors, volunteers, the Toledo Lucas County Public Library, Gathering Volumes bookstore, authors, illustrators, and attendees.

You all stir our souls.

 

 

Goosebumps. All. Day. Long.

/in /by

On the way to the Main Library of Toledo Lucas County Public Library system this past Saturday morning, I enjoyed taking in the scene along the Maumee River. It was a bit cloudy, but the sun was trying to poke out. Then, with a burst of radiance, beams from the sun cleared through the grey skies, shining down onto the river.

I turned to Brad and said, “Check it out…heaven’s rays.”

I knew then that our 22nd annual Claire’s Day, the celebration of our little reader gone too soon would be an excellent day.

The Main Library in downtown Toledo was jammin’ that morning, an electrified excitement bouncing off the walls and shelves.

A year of planning by our Read for Literacy/Claire’s Day team led to this day. Months of working through the myriad of details, and thousands of emails to all of our partners…sponsors, schools,  and collaborators brought us to this point.

A week’s worth of visits to twenty area school partners by our guest authors and illustrators contributed to the excitement.

It was time.

I had the pleasure of serving as the hostess of several C.A.R.E. Award (Claire’s Award for Reading Excellence) ceremonies that morning. Before bestowing special recognition to the most improved readers from various schools in the greater Toledo area, I spoke a bit about our journey.

I talked about Claire and her love of reading. I talked about our family and our desire to honor her in a way that was true to her. And I talked about those heaven’s rays on the way to the library.

Then we announced the students’ names, and each of the award winners received a personalized certificate and a coupon to choose their very own book from the selection written or illustrated by our guest authors and artists. Each child came up to the stage, some shy, not necessarily used to the experience of being recognized for academic achievement, and got their packet. With huge smiles, they gave high-fives to the many teachers from their schools lending support.

Afterward, a father came up to me and shared that he took a picture with his son proudly showing his certificate, in front of the photo of Claire we had up on stage.

As he handed his phone to me, this big, strong guy had tears in the corners of his eyes. As I looked at the picture, I understood why. There, in the background, with a streak of sun across her picture, Claire glowed in the background.

Wow.

It was the first of many goosebumps moments I experienced throughout Claire’s Day Toledo.

Parents hugging me in gratitude.

Random kids coming up and hugging me from behind, just like Claire used to do.

Teachers we’ve seen year after year, offering their gratitude for what we do for their students. One teacher told me, “This is my favorite day of the year!”

Throughout the day, Brad and I connected, holding hands, sneaking a kiss, and sharing stories together.

Claire wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Uncharted Territory

/in /by

The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) released a statement this past week that for the first time in five months, Voyager 1 is returning usable data about the status of its onboard engineering systems. The next step is to work out the kinks so that the probe starts sending scientific data again.

In essence, Voyager 1 has gone rogue for months on end.

I can relate.

Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

A journalist reported that Voyager 1 and 2 are “currently venturing through uncharted cosmic territory along the outer reaches of the solar system.”

For those of you unfamiliar with the twin spacecraft, they are the only vehicles to ever travel through interstellar space, the space between the stars.

The space between the stars…just writing the words is mind-boggling.

Back in 2003, Brad and I took our first major adventure in our motorhome with our kids, daughter, Kyle, and son Ian. They were eleven and nine at the time, and we were just three years into our grief journey after losing our daughter, Claire.

During the trip, I was reading Undaunted Courage, written by Stephen E. Ambrose, about Lewis and Clark’s Corps of Discovery journey. Amazingly, our travels paralleled my progress in reading about their adventures in the book. I would share passages in the tome with Brad and the kids, including the quote from Meriwether Lewis, “It is through the untamed wilderness that we find our own wildness, embracing the freedom that arises from charting new territories.”

The motorhome came with a pair of walkie-talkies, which came in handy when the kids would venture off to explore a campground. As this was pre-cell phone days, we could touch base with the kids or call them home for dinner. One evening, while staying at Custer State Park, Ian took our chocolate Labrador Retriever, Ginger, off for a walk. Ian was gone for quite a while, and the sun was beginning to set, a chill settling in the air. I radioed Ian up and asked if he was okay. It took a minute for him to respond, my bereaved mom’s heart picking up beats in anticipation of his radioing back in.

Finally, I heard his young voice squawk over the transceiver. “Yeppers. Just in uncharted territory.”

Brad and I have been in uncharted territory ever since Claire left us on July 6, 2000. There’s no guide to the universe of grief, despite the efforts of our mission team to help direct us back to beaming the status of our operational systems. Sometimes we felt like Lewis and Clark, venturing into the unknown. Other times, much like Voyager 1, reality felt like a zillion miles away.

But somehow we’ve managed to navigate our way on this journey, together.

Our travels, just as in life, require a lot of patience, understanding, empathy, compatibility, and soul-baring communication.

It is through our adventures into the “untamed wilderness” that we’ve come to embrace the freedom of discovering and rediscovering our own “wildness” and zest for exploration.

And just like that little lost Voyager 1, we’re back on track, grateful for our team of friends and family, supporting and guiding us along the way.

We hope that you’ve enjoyed learning about our travels, and hopefully have inspired you to venture on to your own uncharted territories.

It’s coming on Christmas…a message of hope

/in /by

It’s coming on Christmas

They’re cutting down trees

They’re putting up reindeer 

Singing songs of joy and peace

Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on...

So begins “River” written by Joni Mitchell.

It’s a “Christmas song for people who are lonely at Christmas time,” Joni said in an interview in 2021.

I fell in love with Robert Downey Jr’s rendition of this classic on the Ally McBeal: A Very Ally Christmas album, which came out in 1999.

Our daughter Claire LOVED the album’s feature artist, Vonda Shepard. She loved to sing along with many of the artist’s songs, preferring LOUD renditions, and solo. Fun memory of our little reader gone too soon.

“River” takes me back to that first Christmas in 2000 without Claire. So, so hard.

There were many times that all I wanted was to find a river I could skate away on.

Joni Mitchell’s version came on the radio yesterday morning, as I was watching a river of rain flow through our campground outside of Santa Cruz, California.

But it don’t snow here

It stays pretty green

While listening, really listening to the lyrics, the melody had its own meaning in my life. To me, the song didn’t represent loneliness. It reflected my journey through grief.

At some point in those early, hard years, I realized I no longer needed a river to skate away on.

I figured out that no matter how long that river was, I wasn’t going to be able to skate away to escape my pain.

What I really needed was a paddle to navigate the waters of grief, to face all of the emotions I was experiencing.

I wish I had a river so long

I would teach my feet to fly

Through the love and support of Brad, our kids, Kyle and Ian, family, friends, and a whole community, I paddled like hell, to the other side. They all taught my feet to fly, and my broken heart to soar.

As more time passed, I learned to toss the paddle aside and just let go. To let the current and tides take me wherever I was meant to be.

Far from being adrift, I feel as though I’ve let the shore come to me. I feel anchored.

I hope that if you are reading this, and dealing with grief in any form, that my message might offer a bit of hope.

It’s okay if you feel like you need a river to skate away on. I feel you.

It’s okay if you are feeling sad, angry, lonely or really pissed off especially during this time of year. I’ve been there.

I pray that life presents you with the guidance to steer you in the right direction.

And once you get there, that you can just let go.

It’s coming on Christmas

They’re cutting down trees

They’re putting up reindeer 

Singing songs of joy and peace

 

Photo credits: In order; BarbaraALane, Hans, and Starflames, Pixabay

 

 

 

Elemental

/in /by

The elements come into play on our travels, whether motoring from one locale to another, or while we are camped out for any period of time.

Such has been the case in traversing from Idaho to Oregon, and then from our stop in Bend to our destination along the coast, Coos Bay.

Our timing on both legs couldn’t have been better. We missed storms moving into Idaho after we left, and we jumped ahead of storms moving through the mountains outside of Bend as we made our way to the ocean.

Idaho Ready: What you need to know about the chain up law ...How to put tire chains on a semi-truckO

Photo credit: Idaho Transportation Department and Schneider Truck website

In the mountains, one is always at risk of snow and ice. The signs along the way, noting “Chains Required When Flashing” are a bit disconcerting. Chains help vehicles grab the ice and snow for traction. Kind of like crampons for huge trucks. Fortunately we never had the warning flashing lights, for we didn’t invest in chains.

We would have had to turn back.

On our travels from Bend to Coos Bay, Route 58 between Route 97 and State Highway 5 was an absolutely beautiful trek, with Odell Lake and the Willamette River running alongside. Willamette Pass was a little nerve-wracking, with a decent amount of snow on the ground. But the roads were clear and dry.

Here is a glimpse at how the elements came into play on our adventures in Oregon…

Fire

Any opportunity to jump into our kayaks and paddle is a blessing, and such was the case in Bend. The kind folks at the outfitter, Tumalo Creek, directed us to a nice launching dock on the Deschutes River. They instructed us to paddle our way a couple of miles up river, then enjoy the current on the way back.

So what does a fun paddle on the Deschutes have to do with fire? In 1990, the Awbrey Hall Fire burned along the western flank of the city, jumping three major highways and destroying 22 homes and 3500 acres. Had we been able to continue paddling up river, we would have been near the Deschutes River Woods division that suffered the most damage.

We had a lovely evening catching up with a high school friend of Brad’s, Eric Davenport and his wife, Lynn. We visited them over ten years ago while traveling through Bend with our kids. The years dropped away as we hiked their property with Eric. In the distance, the view was hazy, from prescribed fires set to manage the forests. The photo below is from a Facebook page keeping residents advised of both controlled burns and wildfires.

After the hike we enjoyed a delicious dinner prepared by Eric, then warmed by their Russian fireplace in the center of their beautiful open family room/kitchen. The fireplace is highly efficient and beautiful. I sat on the hearth for a bit…it was quite toasty. The fun evening ended entirely too soon, but we were leaving early the next morning for Coos Bay.

Air

We’ve been blessed to be hunkering down at the Sun Outdoors Campground in Coos Bay. Our site is just 50 yards from the beach and ocean. It has rained the entire time we’ve been here, and the winds have been a gusting! The motorhome is shaking as I’m writing this, the winds howling up to 45 miles an hour.

We haven’t let the stationery front stop our fun…enjoying hikes on the beach in the mornings with Luna, and exploring the towns and coast over the last few days. We even took in a fun “Wine Walk” sponsored by the local Rotary Club in Coos Bay.

But, oh that wind. And Rain! This photo doesn’t nearly capture how angry the elements seem to be…the air howling, the waves crashing, the sand and rain drops pelting our skin. But hey, it could be snowing, right?

Water 

I never tire of being by water. The ocean, especially in storms, takes water to a whole different level. We marveled at a brave paddle boarder navigating the waves in a cove near our campground. The waves crashing against rocks at Cape Arago State Park at the tail-end of Route 540 were mesmerizing.

But, water can be deadly. We learned about King Tides, which occur along the Oregon coast when the Earth, sun, and moon are all aligned. The huge tidal waves occur about once a month…we just missed them when we arrived. A woman we met on the beach intrigued us with stories of people being swept out to sea from king tides. Note to self…don’t turn your back on the water during king tides. Yikes.

Earth

From water to earth…we were fascinated by the huge Bull Kelp that washed up on the beach near the campground. We could see the “holdfasts” that attach to submerged rocks out in the ocean. They reminded me of characters in the Pirates of the Caribbean! The stranded jelly fish always make me a bit sad…and we saw our fair share on the beach as a result of the rollicking tides. Luna was wise to avoid them on our beach hikes.

The last picture, of the Stellar, or Northern Sea Lions hanging out on the rock and in the waters along the coast of Cape Arango State Park, has a story. Or rather, what you don’t see in the picture offers story.

The tide was coming in as we watched the sea lions, captivated by their defiance of the force of water. The sea creatures were barking and crying away…trying to avoid losing their position on the rock to the hundreds waiting in the water. I thought it was a territorial thing, until I looked to where they kept casting their gaze.

There, on a rock below them, still, motionless was another Stellar sea lion. This creature did not move for the fifteen minutes we stood and watched. But the other sea lions did, seemingly agitated, moving back and forth on that rock, looking to the sea, then back to their newly departed friend.

Through my experiences and research in the past, I knew in my heart what was going on.

I looked up at Brad with tears in my eyes and said, “I think they are grieving.”

Brad squeezed my hand and gave me a big hug.

A touching end to adventures that provided us with many goosebump moments among the elements.

 

Alright, Alright, Alright

/in /by

My youngest brother, Gordie, recommended we listen to Matthew McConaughey’s memoir, Greenlights on our travels. I was a bit hesitant, as I thought the actor was rather self-absorbed. I mean, what could I learn from a man who made a name for himself running on beaches and showing off his six-pack abs?

Plenty.

The timing was perfect to listen to the story, narrated by none other than Matthew himself. (We came to know each other on a first-name basis through the journey.)

Brad and I had quite a few road hours on our travels from Nashville and onto Branson. Throw in a little unplanned side trip to Red Bay, Alabama for a quick repair, and the roughly 6 1/2 hour audiobook helped pass the miles.

Our trip to Red Bay required an overnight stay where we were not intending to be. Matthew would summarize this situation by saying, “Greenlights.” In other words, green lights mean go. But sometimes in life, the green lights might change on us, causing us to redirect. And as life plays out, we end up with a Greenlight we weren’t expecting. Such was the case with our Harvest Hosts overnight stop at a little farm and orchard along the way. I’ve never camped in such a quiet, peaceful spot. Until the neighboring rooster woke us up early the next morning.

“The problems we face today eventually turn into blessings in the rearview mirror of life,” Matthew offered.

Greenlight.

Our view at Blessed Bounty orchard, an unexpected overnight.

I was surprised to learn that Matthew spent several years traversing in a van and Airstream trailer that he customized. He named the trailer Canoe, in honor of his visit to the Squamish Nation reservation in Vancouver. The tribe gave him a handmade oar, a symbol of the tribe.

Matthew said, “The oar guides the canoe, guides you through life—so I named the Airstream the Canoe. I mean, the highways are like riverways, they’re just concrete.” 

Our oar was guiding us to a place that was on both of our radars for some time; Branson, Missouri.

Branson

We stayed the week at Table Rock State Park, just fifteen minutes from the city of Branson. The lake is absolutely gorgeous, with a huge marina and a several-mile hiking trail around the perimeter. Over the weekend, a huge Bass Fishing Tournament, sponsored by Toyota happened on the lake. We’d wake up in the morning with the sounds of the National Anthem being sung to send the fishermen off for the day, and hear the announcements of the daily divisional winners in the evening. Top prize? $200,000!

The marina at Table Rock State Park, the Showboat Branson Belle and sunset at the park.

We wanted to take in a show, and at the recommendation of a friend, went to see Reza, an illusionist. Reza’s huge acts were amazing, but his smaller tricks were simply mind-boggling. I would have gotten a picture of him, but he kept disappearing.

Where did Reza go?

A huge bonus was catching up with a dear high school friend. Hannah Spotts and her husband Mike, who joined us for dinner at the campground. It was such a fun and lovely evening. Hannah recommended we visit one of her favorite places in the area…

Dogwood Canyon

Johnny Morris, owner of Bass Pro Shops and Cabela’s founded this extraordinary 10,000 acre conservation area with hiking and biking trails, trout fishing, and horseback riding. Tickets to the tram are extra, but the bonus is at the top. We enjoyed our close encounters with the herd of bison, including a rare White American Bison.

Brad and I also had a blast playing the Mountain Top 9-hole golf course, and taking in lunch at Arnie’s Barn afterwards. My drink of choice? An Arnold Palmer, of course.

Salina

Salina, Kansas was definitely a Greenlight. We stayed/played at the Salina Municipal Golf Course, which is one of the nicest muni golf courses we’ve ever played. Luna had a blast joining us during the round, and was quite chill afterwards while we had dinner on the patio at Ya Yas.  We took a nice stroll through the surprising downtown. Fun!

Rafter W Ranch

Our last stop before hitting Denver was yet another Harvest Hosts site…Rafter W. Ranch. We camped out in their field, away from their grass-fed cattle, and enjoyed hiking the property. We picked up some steaks before we left the next morning, on to our next adventures.

We finished listening to the audiobook, and could relate to this quote from Greenlights.

“We cannot fully appreciate the light without the shadows. We have to be thrown off balance to find our footing. It’s better to jump than fall. And here I am.”

Thank you, Matthew for your insights, your stories, your inspiration. We aspire to Just Keep Livin‘.

And we’re doing Alright, Alright, Alright.

 

Sweet Coast

/in /by

Some call the stretch of coastal Florida from the towns of Carrabelle to Seaside the Forgotten Coast. It’s also known as the Gulf Coast.

I’d call it the Sweet Coast. With it’s sugary beaches and laid-back vibe, it was just what my soul needed.

My friend Margie gave us a lovely book as a Bon Voyage gift. The Most Scenic Drives in America should live on everybody’s coffee table. The images alone will make you want to pack a bag and head off on an adventure. Route 98, the drive along this coast of Florida is one of the featured routes. Tall pines flanked the roadway, with glimpses of the Gulf occasionally peering through.

I booked two nights at a campground directly off Route 98…the Ho-Hum RV Park. Yep, you read that correctly. This campground prides itself on its simplicity. When you rent a spot at the park, you get your water, sewer and electric hookups, a beach, a pier and a few nice porch swing chairs to view the Gulf. Each morning I took my coffee and watched the dolphins play in the water. How much better does it get?

This is what I woke up to each morning at the Ho-Hum RV Park. Far from Ho-Hum!

Well, seeing dolphins from a distance isn’t nearly as fun as seeing them up close. So, yes, it did get better as Brad and I jumped in the kayaks and frolicked with the playful creatures just off the coast of where we were camped.

We slowed our roll as we spent the few days reading, relaxing and exploring the area a bit. We drove to the little town of Carrabelle. The large marina featured charter boats in search of local fish…tarpon, grouper and red snapper (my favorite!).  We were hungry when we arrived in Apalachicola. The law mandates that no building can be taller than three stories, which made for a comfy feel to the town.

I love vibrant, active old downtowns, and Apalachicola definitely has it going on. Lots of retail, including several shops in converted old cotton warehouses. The seafood restaurants looked enticing, but as we had Luna with us, we opted for Tamara’s On the Go food truck. With a bright yellow exterior and adorable courtyard tucked around the truck, it was perfect to chill with Luna. The chef created a delicious gluten free gyro salad for me. Yum.

We drove the rest of the route, passing by St. Andrews State Park (we hiked here later in the week) and into our next destination, Panama City Beach. Our campground, Sun Outdoors Panama City Beach, was right next door to Zoo World. One morning I was greeted by their resident giraffe as she poked her head over the tall fence, as if to say hello. I woke at daybreak one day to the sounds of lions roaring their morning greeting.

Route 98 isn’t as pretty in Panama City Beach. The stretch is filled with kitschy family activities…putt-putt, go-karts and more discount beach stores than you can count. We did enjoy taking Luna to the small section of beach where dogs are allowed. Pier Park Dog Beach extends from the pier to a short distance away. Strong winds brought riptides, so we kept Luna close to the edge. We walked around the fun outdoor Pier Park Shopping Complex after to let our pup dry off. 🙂  We loved watching a young woman zig and zag while rollerblading on the streets, bopping away to the music piping outside of the stores.

Our daughter Kyle encouraged us to drive from Route 98 to Highway 30A and discover the towns along the way. Her husband Will’s family spent many summer vacations in Rosemary Beach when he was a boy. Will whisked Kyle to  the town for a weekend getaway, and she fell in love with this charming town. Serendipitously, Brad’s second cousin Jane, and her husband Gary, were renting a home in the neighboring town of Seaside during our time in the area. We went from kitschy to kismet!

Out of all the areas that we’ve ventured to over the years, I can honestly say I’ve never seen such a unique place. Each of the towns, Alys Beach, Rosemary Beach and Seaside were well-planned and restrictive on their building codes. Think of Hilton Head on steroids.

Our first stop was Seaside to visit Jane and Gary. Each of the homes have names on their white picket fences. Pebbled pathways wind through the community, from the adorable square filled with shops ranging from a book store to a market with delectable edibles.

Hanging out on the outside second-level porch of Jane and Gary’s rental. Heaven.

The community church hosted a wedding the Saturday evening we were there. As the church sits amongst the quaint homes, there is a strict sound ordinance. No music after 9 PM. Perfect timing for us…we had just come back to the rental house after a dinner at the fun and delicious Café Thirty-A. The four of us decided to take Luna and their pup, Bear, out for an evening walk. When the wedding band struck up “An American Girl” as their last hurrah, I couldn’t resist. I hung out on the outskirts of the crowd, dancing away. Life is too short…dance when you can!

We had such a great time with Jane and Gary. They’ve been coming to the area for years from their home in New Orleans, so we were in excellent hands for travel guides. We took many walks, ventured to the farmer’s market Saturday morning, and hung out at the beach one afternoon. They even joined us for a cookout at the coach!

Brad and I ventured on a bike ride through Rosemary Beach. The town had a European feel to it, with it’s cobblestone streets and town square

Biking in Rosemary Beach and the town square.

Before our time in this area was just a memory, we drove to Econfina Creek, a spring fed, quiet waterway. We got a great workout paddling up stream, then turning around and floating on the return. We packed a lunch, and unlike the borrowed photo below, we didn’t see a soul. So, once again, YOLO, so what does one do in a secluded creek to cool down? I felt like a kid again as I dove into the water, naked as a jaybird, and jumped out just as fast. That water was dang cold.

Photo credit: Lori Ceier/Walton Outdoors

Our travels are winding down…but adventures still await in Dora and Red Bay, Alabama. Stay tuned, and thanks for coming along on our journey.