Tag Archive for: #tiffinmotorhome

Uncharted Territory

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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.

Roots

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The kayaks are strapped back on to the top of our Jeep. Bikes are in place on the rack attached to the hitch. Knick-knacks are tucked in cupboards. The shoe bin filled with footwear to fit the occasion, whether hiking, kayaking or golfing, is stashed in the closet. The Captain’s chair and co-pilot seat are turned around to the front-facing position. Furniture is secured, cupboards and sliding pocket doors all closed tight.

Everything is ready to roll, on to our next destination.

Everything that is, except my heart.

When we first settled into our rented lot at the Motorcoach Country Club RV Resort in Indio, I noticed the owner had three empty flower pots just waiting to be filled. I visited a local nursery and bought enough annuals to bring life to them. My plan was to buy a pot to transfer them to once we were ready to get back on the road, which I did.

As I gently tugged the flowers out of the planters, I was amazed at how much they grew in the six weeks we’ve been here. I couldn’t get over how deep the roots had dug into the California soil I scrapped together when I first planted them. With just the right amount of water, sun and tender-loving care, the geranium, petunias and snapdragons  flourished. My transplants found a new home.

I feel exactly the same.

Staying here at this little slice of heaven in the California desert for this long has allowed us to grow our own roots. And with the fresh air, sun and the gentle breezes of new friendships, we’ve flourished too. We’ve been blessed to share stories, journeys, and heartbreaks with these new friends. These new friends have hosted us for dinner, golf, and wine tastings. These new friends have taken walks with us, gotten us into the pool for water aerobics, presented us with thoughtful gifts.

Desert Adventures with Chuck and Dyan

Our time here in the desert began with getting together with friends we made last year in Hilton Head. Chuck and Dyan love adventures as much as we do, and loved experiencing the Salton Sea area together. We had a blast exploring Temecula Valley, the wine country just 90 minutes over the San Jacinto Mountains. We especially enjoyed Doffo Wines and the display of over 200 motorcycles and scooters collected by the owner, Marcello. We spent our last evening in town, Valentine’s Day, enjoying dinner with the two of them, bringing our time together full circle.  Life is always fun with a little bit of Chuck and Dyan sprinkled in!

Photo credit: Doffo Wines

Kind neighbors Chris and Alan

Our first clue as to how special the residents at Motorcoach Country Club RV resort was while hosting our Toledo friends Joe and Amy Zavac for a visit. Our neighbors, Chris and Alan, brought over an outdoor lamp to add more light to our patio. How thoughtful is that? This Colorado-based couple also hosted us for a fun, quaint Super Bowl gathering, and even offered to help out with Luna while we were off on a day-long adventure.

Pasta and Game Night with John and Christine

Speaking of thoughtful, when meeting Christine and John McCusker at a dinner at the Motorcoach club house, Christine observed I wasn’t eating bread. When I shared that I was gluten intolerant, several days later, Christine gifted me with two loaves of gluten free bread made at a local bakery. I returned the favor with giving this former private school owner with a copy of my biography of Virginia Hamilton. This lovely couple hosted us for a delicious homemade pasta dinner, Temecula wine and Rumikub. We all walked away as winners, in more ways than one.

Golf with the Ladies

The resort has a fun 18 hole Par 3 course. I had the opportunity to play with the ladies several times, including the first with Nancy Kossman, who hails from Missouri. Nancy and I connected from the start, and enjoyed going out to lunch and walking together.

When I played with the other group of ladies, Betty announced, “I’m not a very good golfer, but I’m a lot of fun.” Fun was definitely had with Kim, Jo, Betty and her sidekick, Betty Boop. It’s always a good thing when you laugh so hard on the course that you find yourself looking for the nearest bathroom.

PGA West friends Renee and Fred

Brad joined a golf program which allows us to play on private courses with members willing to host us. Fred and Renee Dockweiler were incredibly kind to not only host us, but to be willing to reschedule when we came down with a stomach bug. We connected during our first round at the PGA West Weiskopf course. It was a thrill for me to play with all single-digit handicap golfers. I’ve got 9 strokes to join the ranks, but Fred and Renee were both incredibly encouraging. We met up for dinner at Okura Sushi one night, and Renee hosted us several days later (as Fred was out of town) at the PGA West Stadium course, home of the AT&T PGA tournament. We hope to have Renee and Fred visit us in Toledo, as Fred has plans to travel our way on business.

And the list goes on…

I’m not so good with carting my phone with me everywhere, much less taking pictures when I do. I will hold on to the special memories of a Motorcoach CC resident, Swanee, who became my new “publicity rep” after sharing our story and my work with her. Swanee attended a satellite campus of Antioch College, where Virginia Hamilton attended, so I gifted her with my biography of this amazing writer.

We had the pleasure of golfing with several other couples and gentlemen during our stay…including Rob and Margaret and Troy and Sue at Mountain View Country Club. Thank you all for making our time all the more special. Ugh…I could go on and on, from the many people we met on our daily walks with Luna, to folks we visited with on our many adventures.

So yes, we’re packed up and ready to go on to the next chapter, but my heart is a little sad as we leave this desert oasis.

Often friends met on the road remain as such.

But, I have a feeling that with the right amount of time and attention, just like my new flowers, the roots of friendship established here in the California desert will grow deeper.

 

 

Finding Nature’s Peace in Yosemite

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I’m still struggling to come up with the words to describe our experiences in Yosemite National Park.

Perhaps these, from the “Father of the National Parks,” John Muir, say it best.

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine into trees.”

Yosemite Valley

The view on the left was the first Brad and I witnessed of the Yosemite Valley from Big Oak Flat Road. Tears stung my eyes, taking in the grandeur of it all. The view of the iconic El Capitan and Half Dome in the distance with the Merced River winding along the base of the valley is breathtaking.

As we drove further along the route, Bridalveil Fall looms in the distance, the light winter stream of water originating in Ostrander Lake (ten miles south) cascading down the mountain. In the fall, the winds carry the water sideways, creating a veil-like appearance.

Native Americans call the falls Pohono, meaning “Spirit of the Puffing Wind.”

Tunnel View

My younger brother Gordie (eight-years my junior…this comes into play later in the post) visited Yosemite with his wife Debbie several years ago. Gordie served as tour guide for our initial expeditions, strongly recommending that we take in the Tunnel View, which the photographer Ansel Adams made famous.

The view is spectacular exiting the Wawona Tunnel off State Route 41.

Just as my words could not suffice, neither could any of our pictures. This shot, found on Yosemite.com captures the incredible viewpoint.Tunnel View Yosemite

Photo credit: Yosemite.com

Vernal Fall

So this is where younger brother Gordie comes back into the story. He recommended the Yosemite Falls trail. The hike is the longest and most strenuous in the park…and can take up to eight hours to hike. I think Gordie forgets our age difference sometimes. But, in comparison, the Vernal Fall/Nevada Fall hike seemed like it would be doable.

I’m kind of glad I didn’t research the trail too much before our hike. I discovered after our hike that Backpacker magazine rates the Mist Trail as one of the 10 most dangerous hikes. The trail can be slippery, but that’s not the real issue. Hikers can be idiots sometimes, not paying attention to barriers or understanding the power of the Merced River, which flows below both falls.

Having offered this, I would not discourage anyone from considering hiking the trail. Just be smart. And prepared.

The hike lulls you into a false sense of security with its fairly leisurely .08 mile hike to the footbridge at the base of the falls. Note the chart below. The start of the hike winds you gradually up the trail, then seems to take a vertical leap up to the top of the falls for the the remaining 1.2 miles.

Did I mention there were over 600 steps leading to the top?

I must admit to a bit of whining as we hoisted ourselves up the trail. It took a bunch of hits of water (H2O as Brad kept reminding me) and the site of young whippersnapper kids behind us nearly skipping up the steps to keep me going.

It was all worth it…

The Mist Trail and John Muir Trail overlaid side by side

Nevada Fall

Okay, so look back at that graphic above. Note how much steeper the trail gets to the top of Nevada Fall.

Much steeper.

Brad and I were at an impasse. Despite my Pilates/yoga/walking/biking/kayaking/golfing fitness level, my quads and calves were screaming at me. And they weren’t screaming for more…

Brad, on the other hand, was up for the challenge. More whining ensued. More deals were being made.

Did I mention we were the oldest hikers on the trail?

Thank goodness for a much younger hiker who seemed to be breezing his way back down the Nevada Fall trail.  He informed us that by hiking up a bit we’d find an outcropping that we could get a great view of the falls without hiking to the top. I could have kissed him.

Note my happy face below.

Two days later I’m still sore.

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Lower Yosemite Falls Trail

The next day we ventured back into the park from our campground about an hour away. We hit Yosemite Village, first stop: the Welcome Center. Probably just as well we didn’t go there the first day, for when I asked the young forester about hikes, he offered the Lower Yosemite Falls Trail and the Cook’s Meadow trail.

When I told the forester that we’d hiked the Vernal Fall trail and to the base of Nevada Falls the day before, he raised his eyebrows in surprise and suggested that we might want to also consider the Valley Loop Trail, which although relatively flat, hikers can go up to 11.5 miles on.

After a stop at the Ansel Adams gallery and the Yosemite Museum, we roamed the Lower Yosemite Falls trail, enjoyed our packed picnic lunch, then ventured on.

 Mirror Lake Trail

This easy trail runs along Tenaya Creek and was quiet and peaceful. Most visitors opt for the paved trail that heads back to the lake (which is more like a pond this time of year), so we were pretty much roaming the woods among the boulders on our own for the two-mile hike.

Our feet and legs had just enough from the two days of hiking, so we didn’t venture further on the Valley Loop Trail.

Next time…

The Ahwahnee Hotel

Our last stop was the beautiful Ahwahnee Hotel built in the 192o’s for wealthy clientele. One look at the room rates and Brad and I observed that not much has changed over the years. It was fun people-watching in the lobby during our brief stop. Little sisters dressed in pajamas in the late afternoon, accompanied by grandfather to the Sweet Shop. Young couples gathered around the huge fireplace. Friends hanging out in the lobby bar, toasting one another.

Brad and I both agreed it would have been fun to grab a glass of wine to toast our visit, but the curvy hour-long road home awaited.

We also both agreed that we were done walking for the day, so caught one of the Yosemite complimentary shuttles back to our car in the Welcome Center parking lot. You can catch shuttles at many different locations at the park.

To wrap, Ansel Adams famously stated, “I knew my destiny when I first experienced Yosemite.”

As Brad and I both have had Yosemite on our bucket lists, it was our destiny to finally visit. Fate would have it that even though we traveled to the national park in December, although the Tioga Pass and the John Muir trail were closed for the winter, the weather was perfect. Snow in the distant mountains, but not on the roads. Cold in the mornings, but warm in the afternoons. Perfect hiking and exploring weather.

We highly encourage you to put it on your bucket list, and let “nature’s peace flow into you.”

 

 

 

 

Angel’s Share, a Master Cooper, and other tales from Napa

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We’ve been blessed to visit Napa several times in the past, but this week-long visit gave us the opportunity to explore more than ever before. Wine tasting was at the heart of our activities, but we also snuck in a round of golf, a kayak run on the Napa River, and a bike ride from Napa to Yountville.

We made some new friends and had visits with one of my dear writing friends along the way.

Most of all, we learned so much about wine-making and wine-makers during our visit.

Angel’s Share

Our first tasting was at Rombauer Wines, just north of Napa in St. Helena. We chose the vineyard because of its beautiful family history, its reputation for producing yummy Chardonnays, and the awesome hilltop setting. Carrie was our server and did a fabulous job teaching us about the wines they produce.

As our curiosity intrigued Carrie, she was kind enough to give us a tour of their wine caves. While there, I noted a barrel presumably seeping red wine onto the outside of the French Oak barrel. Carrie offered that as the oak barrels are porous, that through the oxidation process, the tannins from the stems, seeds and the grapes seep out of the barrels.

Way back in the day, when cellar masters discovered the product disappearing from barrels, they determined that angels were enjoying their share from heaven. The term, “la part des anges”  or “angels share” refers to the missing portion from the barrels. Wine makers will regularly check their barrels, from a few days to a few weeks, and fill the barrel from the top bung hole to replace the Angel’s Share.

Even the golf courses have wine-related names!

We had a lovely round at Eagle’s Vine Golf.  There was a foursome of younger guys in front of us, who were kind enough to let us through on the first par 3. I came within 5 inches of a hole-in-one, as they cheered the ball toward the cup. I nearly beat Brad straight up on the front side, but he found his stride on the back. Really fun round.

Off the beaten path…or waterfront

We finally got back out on our kayaks on this segment of our travels. We were directed to Fagan Marsh on the Napa River. A great site for bird watching, we took in hawks, yellow-rumped Warblers, ducks, and egrets. We maneuvered through the marsh until the natural channel got us caught up in the reeds. We got kind of messy in the process.

Photo credit: cricketsblog

Cheers to old friends and new trails

I met author Nancy Hudgins a number of years ago at a Highlights writing workshop. We’ve kept in touch ever since, visiting each other twice in our hometowns. Here we are celebrating the sale of her first book, a biography of famed children’s book editor Ursula Nordstrom. I’m so proud of Nancy! Brad, Luna and I enjoyed lots of time with Nancy and her little pup, Buddy. (Who is cuddled on her lap in the photo.)

Brad and I made it back to Frank Family wines again on this trip. Yummy reds and beautiful setting for the afternoon wine tasting. We took a nap after.

Tempting as it was, we didn’t stop at any of the wineries along the route of our 12 mile bike ride on the Vine Trail, from Kennedy Park to Yountville.

Fun fact: George C. Yount planted the first grapevines in Napa Valley. Way back in 1839.

A Master Cooper and Sharing Angels

Ahh…the beauty of Facebook. A college friend of Brad’s encouraged us to check out Caldwell Vineyard.

We’re so grateful for the recommendation.

What started as a private tasting in the wine caves turned into a personal sharing of our own angel stories with Ramiro, the Master Cooper.

Ramiro makes all 350 barrels for the vineyard. Most vineyards buy their barrels from a cooperage. We were mesmerized by Ramiro’s tales of growing up in the region, his passion for, and dreams of playing soccer professionally, then fate (and his nose…very important for toasting the barrels just right!) intervened and he became one of only several dozen master coopers in the world. Here’s a great article on Ramiro.

Caldwell’s website header reads, “For us, it’s personal.”

Our experience with Ramiro became quite personal and spiritual as we shared our mutual losses. It was an incredible “Angel Share” experience.

And the wine was pretty incredible too.

Cheers, Napa.

We can’t wait to get back.

At Caldwell Vineyards Wine Caves Tasting, Caldwell barrel handmade by Ramiro, master cooper, view from the Caldwell hilltop. Breathtaking experience and views.

Eureka! We Found Giants!

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We discovered Giants in nature, art, architecture and industry in our adventures through Northern California.

Nature’s Giants

We had a relatively beautiful day weather-wise to venture into the land of the Redwoods. I loved driving the Avenue of the Giants, a tight, slightly 31-mile drive that parallels Highway 101 just south of where we were staying in Fortuna, California.

We hiked the Drury-Chaney Loop trail fairly early on in the drive. At the start of the trail, we met a woman who lost her wallet somewhere on the trail. I tried to keep my eyes on the trail, which helped with the appreciation of the gorgeous sorrel the blanketed the ground. But, when amongst these giants, all you can do is look up. And up.

I told Brad that I kept expecting dinosaurs to come charging through the forests, as they used to do. More than a hundred million years ago, redwood forests redwood forests dominated the Northern Hemisphere.

We were in awe at the fallen giants, their root structures small compared to the massive size of the trees. We were rather curious as to how this was possible. Then lo and behold, we came upon a sign explaining how the redwoods balance themselves out.

Our Jeep duck points the way through the Redwood Forest. Standing next to a fallen giant, and explanation of the science of the root structure.

Our hike was peaceful. We only  saw one other couple during our time on the trail, and a handful of foresters who were reinforcing some of the trails to meet ADA standards.

The floor of the forest was beautiful, with ferns and edible sorrel. Redwoods are resistant to insects, disease and fires. New trees sprout from the roots of old trees. Brad marveled at the massive width of the giants.

This is the Shrine drive-thru tree along the Avenue of the Giants. The height restriction was 7’7″…our kayaks were on top of the Jeep, so we wouldn’t have made it through. As much as I loved the overall drive, I’m not sure I would have come out from under the tree without a few scrapes.

Eureka Architecture

The next day we spent the afternoon in Eureka. As was so much of the west, Eureka (Greek for “I have found it!) was settled by those chasing dreams during the Gold Rush. We loved walking around the downtown area, which has over 20 building in the National Historic Registry.

Driving around Eureka we discovered the amazing diversity of the well-preserved homes in the city, from Tudors, to craftsmen and bungalows.

At the far edge of town is the Carson Mansion, built in 1884 by employees of lumber magnate William Carson. It is considered the most-photographed Victorian mansion in California, possibly the country. It is a private club primarily to preserve the iconic structure.

The Carson mansion

The Artist and the Automotive Enthusiast

While strolling the streets of downtown Eureka, we discovered this beautiful storefront display of the work of Romano Gabriel. To learn more about this Italian artist who made Eureka his home, click here.

Then, we stumbled into Carl’s Car World, a unique collection of automotive memorabilia created by Carl Schneider, a car racer, enthusiast and influencer in the automotive world. We loved learning about early automotive history, even seeing original drawings by Ferdinand Porsche.

#CarlsCarWorld #packard #bugatti #vw #Classiccars #Mercedesbenz #artistoninstagram #classiccar

And of course, a bookstore

I loved finding a perfect gift for a friend amongst the stacks at the adorable Eureka Books.

It was the perfect ending to a week filled with new discoveries.

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A blur and a blog

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I’m back home, on solid ground, after being in constant motion for the last 5 ½ months in our
motorhome.

I’m sitting at my desk, covered with research books, book proposals, correspondence, works by
upcoming Claire’s Day authors and illustrators, sipping tea and reflecting on our adventures.

Here’s how the (approximate!) numbers stack up; 8,000 miles. Endless hikes with Luna.100
miles biking. 25 rounds of golf. 16 unique camping experiences.13 different bodies of water we
kayaked on. 7 States. 6 visits with friends. Only 4 days of rain. 3 weeks spent with family
members. 2 vet visits with Luna. 1 fun fishing expedition. 0 days laid up due to illness.

When I add up all of the adventures, it equals one hell of an experience.

We left in October when the leaves were just changing in Ohio. We came home in early April
with the trees blooming again. We left with an itinerary, a wish, and a prayer that we’d be safe on
our travels. We came home with unforgettable memories and a sense of accomplishment.

I mean, let’s face it. 5 ½ months spent together in the equivalent of 500 square feet would be a
challenge for anyone.

But we rose to the occasion and had a blast together. Sure, there were squabbles, but, as I offered to
Brad, other than the few times we wanted to throw each other out the window, we did great. I
feel so blessed to have a partner in every sense of the word.

The whole experience reflected how we deal with life. If there’s a problem, we work together to
figure it out. If one of us is feeling a bit down, we build each other up. If one of us is literally or
figuratively on the ledge, we guide each other to a safe place. If we get pissed at each other, we
let it out and let it go.

During our wedding vows 35 years ago, our minister encouraged us to laugh together, cry together, dance
together, make love together, to celebrate life together.

Together.

Here are a few shots of the blur of the last weeks on the road. We visited Blue Ridge,
Georgia, kayaked on the Toccoa River, shopped in the vibrant downtown, and stopped at the
little Serenberry winery for a tasting.

We had to maneuver around the many fishermen on the Toccoa.

I cracked up when seeing this memory again…I thought the hens were going to peck Brad’s toes as he put the kayaks back on the Jeep.

Sun. Wine. Cheers.

We snuck in a short visit with our daughter Kyle, our son-in-law Will, and their pup, Riggins.
Sadly, we didn’t sneak in any pictures of our hike, lunch at a brewery, and cookout at their house.

We wrapped up the journey as it began, stopping at the Rubini family home in Tryon, NC and a
quick overnight with friends Chris and Diane Evans in Lexington.

With Brad’s mom, Lynn, and sister Gail outside the Purple Onion in Saluda.

Thank you for following along on our journeys. These reflections in my blog have been fun for me to create, an outlet as I contemplate my next writing project.

We hope that perhaps our adventures have inspired you to get out there and discover our beautiful country.

Until next time…

 

From Coast to Coast

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Don’t you love it when the perfect book enters your life at the perfect time?

My friend Beth Fry lent me Last Train to Paradise, the story of Henry Flagler’s quest to build the railroad along the eastern coastline, and ultimately, all the way to Key West.

The timing to read this fascinating account couldn’t have been better, as we had just traveled along much of the railway route.

From our last reported east coast adventures in Port St. Lucie, we traveled down to Fort Lauderdale. Our digs for the two weeks were quite unique…

Yep, that’s our rig, with literally a million (or Five!) dollar view. We stayed at the Yacht Haven Park and Marina which is located in the Marina Mile district. As the term suggests, yachts of all sizes call this area home.

We had awesome neighbors, the Covely family of New Jersey. John is an avid fisherman, and was kind enough to take us out on his boat. We had a great time listening to John’s stories and catching a variety of fish. Sadly, none of them were large enough to keep. As John offered, the hour long trip through the channel, past the Intercoastal and out to the ocean was worth the price of admission. The closer we got to the big water, the bigger the homes got!

We also had a blast cheering on the Eagles in the Super Bowl with John and Marianne’s family, including their daughter Colleen and crew. We love making new friends on the road!

Two are always better than one!

During our stay, we ventured over to Naples for an annual golf event staged by our friends Jim and Susan Stahl. The event drew over 50 golfers from Toledo, with another 50 joining us after for cocktails. Our foursome was the only team of women, and took a respectable 3rd place.  Brad and I spent the night with brother and sister-in-law, Mark and Marcia before heading back to Fort Lauderdale.

Our awesome team…from r to l Susan Stahl, Linda Gilmore, Marcia and yours truly!

We also snuck in a day trip to visit our friends Rob and Marina Wade in Boca Raton. Luna made herself quite at home, enjoying the salt water pool. The four of us ventured out for a St. Valentine’s dinner at Louie Bossi’s Italian Ristorante. The salmon was delicious!

We don’t go out to eat too often on the road, so this was a special treat, with special friends.

After two weeks exploring, kayaking, golfing, biking and seeing friends on the east coast, our travels took us west.

Although Henry Flagler’s rail line ran along the other coast, The Last Train to Paradise detailed the horrific damage to the railway due to hurricanes. This was relevant as we ventured into Port Charlotte/Punta Gorda and witnessed first-hand the devastating effects of Hurricane Ian.

We had a lovely time with Tom and Beth Fry, who were kind enough to allow us to park our rig on their lot. What fun we had hanging out with them during the day, and popping back into the motorhome to sleep at night. Luna enjoyed swimming in their pool too. We cruised in their boat across the bay to Fishermen’s Village in Punta Gorda for lunch.

Tom and Beth were quite hospitable, even hosting a Rubini family gathering. We were treated to a visit with Brad’s niece, Liz and her family, including husband Jason and sons Jackson and Brendan. (Brad’s half-brother Stan stopped by too.) We had so much fun at the cookout that we forgot to take pictures! But, we snuck in some extra time with Liz and Jackson the next morning at the farmer’s market in Punta Gorda.

After our brief three-day visit, we pointed the coach north, traveling to Land O’ Lakes, outside of Tampa. We stayed for a week, hanging with long-time friends, Jan and Bryan Spaulding. Bryan was Brad’s fraternity father, that’s how far the friendship goes back to!

Jan is training for an upcoming biking adventure through Amsterdam, so Brad and I were happy to help in her efforts to prepare for the trip. Jan and I spent a morning on the Pinellas Bike Trail, then enjoyed brunch at the Wild Iris Cafe in the cute little town of Dunedin. I’d love to get back and explore the adorable village more in the future.

Bryan and Jan hosted us for several awesome dinners at their lovely home, and a fun evening out watching their friend, Cat, participate in the finals of a community karaoke contest. On our last day in the area, we traveled to the Weeki Wachee River for a kayaking adventure. We launched from Mary’s Fish Camp on the Mud River. Established in 1946, this camp is a quaint, old school spot. Brad and I wished that we could have hung out there for a few days.

We didn’t see any of the famous live mermaids, but we did see two manatees literally swimming under our kayaks.

This is the only picture we took over the week of Bryan and Jan…both trying to see the elusive manatee. 

During our time in the area, Brad, Luna and I snuck in a visit with a friend who can claim responsibility for us. We traveled to Holiday to enjoy the hospitality of none other than Tim Gage and his lovely wife, Carrie and their daughter, Griffin. Their dachshund, Minnie, was quite tolerant of Luna as she made herself at home immediately, jumping into the pool and making a mess of their landscaping. (I’m sensing a pattern here!)

Tim and Carrie introduced us to their favorite haunt, Miss Vicki’s on the River. It was a beautiful, fun evening, spent reminiscing about high school antics (the guys) and sharing favorite music and concert experiences (the ladies).

Just as Henry Flagler’s quest came to an end, so too did our coast to coast adventures.

Next stop: The “Forgotten Coast.”

 

 

Death by Alligator

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I sensed movement off to my left, just behind reeds that lined the Juniper Spring Run. I drew my paddle back into the water, quietly, cautiously. As I came around a bend, I felt my pulse quicken. There, just a paddle length away was the biggest alligator I had ever seen. He stopped moving, just on the brink of the clear water.  His massive body seemingly ready to use his legs and tail to jettison off the well-worn dirt shore and into the spring run. The urge to spin around in the current and try and capture his image passed as I saw Brad come up from behind me on his kayak. Not wanting to startle the beast,  I simply nodded my head to the shore, and said, “Gator.”

Brad and I were camping for a few days in the Juniper Springs Recreation area. Our site was beautiful and private with a fire ring we stoked up to smoke some ribs over, followed by the requisite S’mores for dessert. The site also featured a storage locker for your food, so as to not let the other creatures that roam the park enjoy your provisions while away. The first night we were there I heard the dense foliage crack and shift. Was it bear or the wild turkey that were prominent in the park? I’ll never know.

When we learned of the 7 mile Spring Run, considered one of the top 25 kayak/canoe runs in the country, we knew we had to figure out how to work through the logistics of the trip. There is no official ferry service any longer from the end of the one-way run back to the launch site. Brad initially suggested that we dump the kayaks at the start, drive our Jeep with our kayak carrier to the end of the run, then bike the 9 miles back to the start. All well and good in my book, with the exception that the 9 mile bike ride back was along major highways with a narrow shoulder. I think if we’d gone that route this post might be titled “Death by Distracted Driver.”

I got my research brain working and found a woman who transports paddlers from the end spot to the start for $40. We were lucky, for someone else had already booked her and she charged us just $20. I would have been happy to pay the original amount, especially when Brad told me that she informed Brad that the intersection of Route 19 and Highway 40 is one of the deadliest in Florida. Yikes.

While Brad drove the Jeep to the end, I waited with the kayaks. I struck up a conversation with a younger couple getting ready to launch. I wished I hadn’t. The young man’s words were so cautionary that I began to question my paddling abilities and whether it was safe to even attempt the run.

“You know it’s quite a challenging, narrow, waterway with a fast current,” he said.

Yes, I was aware.

“It’s tough to navigate, not ideal for everyone.”

My husband and I are proficient paddlers, I responded.

“There’s quite a few gators, snakes and spiders on the run,” he said.

I understand.

As his words brought about a bit of anxiety, I thought about how we can all be guilty of being naysayers. As a mom with two adventuresome adult children, I’ve tried to bite my tongue when they share their upcoming endeavors. Better yet, I have asked to have them tell me after the fact.

It’s probably just as well that they heard about this adventure afterwards.

Especially after seeing that gator.

One of the dozens of turtles we saw on the Jupiter Run.

We came upon the young couple on the run while they were stopped along the bank. I think the young guy was rather impressed that I’d not only managed to navigate that far without being eaten, but was also bypassing him. I intentionally paddled hard and strong down the run as we went past, missing the first gator sighting. I wanted to prove to this obnoxious young man that I was quite capable. As I paddled away, I said, “Haven’t seen any rapids yet.”

This was the first gator on the run…I missed it because I was too busy trying to prove myself.

“Oh, they’re coming, trust me. And, by the way, your paddle is upside down.”

Note the upside down paddle. I didn’t start that way…the many twists and turns often required a twirling of ones body and paddle to avoid running into trees or the bank. Just sayin’.

It was about fifteen minutes later that I saw the huge reptile. He watched me with his dark, black eyes, perhaps weighing whether I was worth the effort to slide off the bank. I knew that in colder temperatures alligators metabolism slows. I was hoping he’d had a good meal recently. I was amazed at how calm I felt, given that it would probably take just a nudge of his snout and a slap of his huge tail to capsize me.

This isn’t the actual gator we saw on the bank, but his size was similar. Seriously.

Photo credit:dreamstime.com

I paddled away, and he stayed.

And those rapids I was supposed to be so afraid of? They were maybe a level 1, the easiest of rapids. I think I’ve seen bigger waves in the swimming pool during annual family cannonball contests.

My story doesn’t finish with me meeting my end by Death by Alligator.

But I never did see that young man finish the run…

Moon River and Me…a Christmas Memory and Wish

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The Jazz Corner in Hilton Head has served as a haven for jazz enthusiasts for nearly a quarter of a century. Brad and I were fortunate to take in Lavon Stevens on the piano and singer Louise Spencer this past week. Dinner was fantastic  and the crowd responsive as they played a variety of holiday songs and traditional jazz tunes.

As soon as I heard the familiar strains of the classic song “Moon River,” tears began to swell.

Moon River, wider than a mile, I’m crossing you in style some day…

Memories flooded back to my childhood, to a simpler time during the holiday season. Snuggled in my pajamas with footies, the multi-colored lights from the fresh Christmas tree reflecting on the ceiling, the pine scent flooding our family room. I could hardly wait for one of my favorite holiday traditions; The Andy Williams Christmas Show. Mom turned on the TV, and adjusted the rabbit ears. The NBC Peacock appeared and then magic. Andy Williams and ensemble started crooning “We Need A Little Christmas Now.”

My five-year-old self squiggled and wiggled on the shag carpet covered floor, trying to make space among my four siblings (the youngest, Gordie, wouldn’t make an appearance for two more years). I watched my first crush sing “The Christmas Song” to his mama. My heart swelled as I felt Andy was singing to me. My dreams were dashed when his beautiful wife, Claudine Longet showed up on set.

Oh dream maker, you heart breaker, wherever you’re goin’, I’m goin’ your way… 

I waited patiently, hoping to hear Moon River during the broadcast. It wasn’t to be.

But, it didn’t take much pleading for my mom to dig into the wooden cabinet filled with vinyl and pull out the album with Andy’s renditions of movie themes, including the Grammy Award winning Moon River.

Williams-Moon.JPG

The day after our Jazz Corner experience, Brad and I drove to Savannah and decided to take in the city via the Old Town Trolley Tours. We could explore the city while hopping off and on the trolley. We hit the City Market, walked through Forsythe Park, and marveled at the massive Greek Revival and Italianate style homes.

A highlight was stepping into the Cathedral Basilica of St. John the Baptist.

Volunteers were finishing up the last touches to the glorious Nativity.

Two drifters, off to see the world, there’s such a lot of world to see…

And then, after hopping back on the trolley, the little Christmas miracle happened.

“On the right you’ll see the Mercer-Williams home, built for Johnny Mercer’s great-grandfather,” our personable driver Miss Denise offered.

Denise stopped briefly in front of the beautiful home and said, “So who was Johnny Mercer? Let me play a little something for you…”

And with that, she clicked on her phone, and just as the night before, those familiar strains of nostalgia once again came back to me.

Moon River, wider than a mile…

Stop the bus! Johnny Mercer wrote the lyrics to not only Moon River, but to hundreds of songs over his career, from the 1930’s to the late 1960’s.

I turned to Brad, squeezed his hand, and cracked up.

Coincidence? One of life’s little gifts?

We’re after the same rainbow’s end, Waitin’ ’round the bendMy huckleberry friendMoon river and me

As the song wrapped, I knew I found my message for this Christmas wish for you.

I hope your holiday season is filled with fond memories, nostalgia, and loved ones to drift through this world in.

 

 

Family, Friends and Flames

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One of the greatest benefits to this on-the-road experience is being able to spend time with family members and friends. Over the last couple of weeks we’ve visited with my mother-in-law, Lynn, daughter Kyle and her husband, Will, son, Ian, and friends Steve and Debbie Gibbs.

I’ll get to the flames in a bit, but for now, here’s the highlight reel of our family and friend experiences.

Aiken

Brad, Luna and I arrived in this quaint town in South Carolina in time to spend Thanksgiving with Lynn. We enjoyed a non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner of fantastic rib roast, sweet potatoes, maple bourbon carrots and homemade cranberry sauce. Lit candles and the sounds of Harry Belafonte (Lynn’s favorite) crooned in the background while we enjoyed our feast. We managed to help Lynn with some “honey-do’s” around the house during our stay. Lynn and I also enjoyed shopping in uptown Aiken.

Aiken, SC

Photo credit: South Carolina, Travel

Aiken County was historically the winter colony for wealthy families from the Northeast. The comfortable climate and the sandy soil make Aiken a favorite for horse owners. Today such traditions as fox hunting and polo continue. For those of us who prefer to walk on our own two feet, there are lovely sites, including the gorgeous “Avenue of the Oaks.” South Boundary Avenue is nationally recognized as one of the South’s most beautiful streets.

Aiken, South Carolina

Photo credit: Peter Frank Edwards/REDUX

I didn’t manage to get any photos of the three of us during our stay, I promise to do so when we go back to visit Lynn over the Christmas holiday.

Atlanta

Time with Kyle and Will awaited in their adopted hometown. We’ve found that major metropolitan areas do not have a plethora of campground options for big rigs, but we enjoyed both of our experiences at Stone Mountain and McKinney on Allatoona Lake.

Our first exciting experience with Kyle and Will was to attend the Georgia State semi-final football contest between Walton High School and Carrollton High. Will and his father, Bill, have both coached the Walton team. Although Walton lost, it was so fun to be in the stands, hanging with Kyle and her new mother-in-law, Lori,  cheering the Raiders on.

Kyle and Will drove over to Stone Mountain  and joined us for Brad’s special smoked ribs. We love camp fires!

We didn’t hike to the top (I’ve done twice, once as a child, and once with the kids when they were young) because we had Luna and Riggins with us, and they weren’t allowed, no matter how cute they are.

Brad and I took an early morning bike ride around the perimeter of the park…my legs had forgotten what hills were like!  This is an image from a piece written in Conde Nast Traveler about the magnificent, largest piece of exposed granite in the world. Click on the image to read the full article. One could easily spend a week here, hiking, biking, kayaking, and taking in the view from the top.

Atlanta, Georgia, GA, Things to Do, Stone Mountain Park

Allatoona Lake

We then untied from our hitching post (i.e. disconnected our utility hookups) and headed north of Atlanta to McKinney Campground, an Army Corps of Engineers site. It was just what my soul needed, both in the amount of hop-skipping we had done in our travels, and what was in store….

Our site was perched on top of a hill, overlooking Allatoona Lake. We’ve heard geese, sandhill cranes and a free-ranging rooster. Every once in a while the sounds of a train or a bass fishing boat disturb the quiet, both otherwise incredibly calm and peaceful. Brad and I kayaked one morning on the lake, and hiked six miles at the nearby Red Mountain Top State Park.

Vegas, baby!

Okay…so I’ve been hinting that flames are involved in this post…

Ian and I were supposed to see Adele in Vegas back in February. But then Adele postponed the residency, offering that the production just wasn’t ready. Oh my, was she worth the wait.

Here we are, nearly pinching ourselves before the show.

Adele had me at Hello, her first number. Simply elegant in her black ball gown, with nothing but a white grand piano behind her on stage, Adele promised that the production would get bigger.

Much bigger.

So much bigger…with full orchestra behind, including the strings in individual huge squares elevated in the back.

And then this…when Adele set fire to the rain.

I’m getting goosebumps all over again just writing about the experience. Unforgettable.

Ian and I find the whole Vegas scene a bit overwhelming, so we set out to discover Sin City on our own terms. We took in Fremont Street, visited the Mob Museum, and perused vintage shops and an artist colony in the Arts District.

But most of all, we enjoyed hanging together for this rare occasion of just the two of us traveling together.

Priceless.

Photo bomber at our base hotel, the Sahara.

We left the Big City on (ugh!) 6:00 a.m. Pacific Time flights, Ian back to his home in Denver, me back to Atlanta.

Our last days were filled with dinner at Pure Taqueria in Woodstock with Steve and Debbie Gibbs, hiking, and taking in the beautiful automobile collection at the Savoy Museum in nearby Cartersville.

I’d take either one of these beauties, but especially the cute guy in the background.

And, of course, if you’ve followed my journey, you know that purple turns up when least expected.

Brad and I snuck in one last dinner with Kyle and Will before heading off to our new adventures.

So, there you have it…family, friends and flames! Wowza!