Monthly Archives: May 2012

Making Peace with the Box

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My lovely wife posted a few days ago about our daughter’s struggle against living in a box.  It was articulate and heartfelt.  But as for myself, I couldn’t fight my way out of a paper bag let alone a box.  From the cradle box we are put in at birth to that box that goes underground at death, it is a box we call home.  And in-between those milestones we take shelter in-house shaped boxes, see all events unfold within the limited frame of our box window, and mostly travel in wheeled boxes.  A few of us think we work outside the box, but I would argue that even park rangers play and work in a box (an open-ended 1000s of acres size one with lots of wild animals one, but still a box). 

For me then travel is making peace with my box.  If I am never to be rid of my box (and to be honest, freedom is often just another word for being irresponsible), the least I can do is take it out for a spin.  We choose to live as much of our lives as possible in motion not to escape life, but to live it more fully.

So off we go on our 14th summer road trip; maybe for just a few weeks, but likely more than a month.  Over this time the mortgage still has to be paid, dogs walked and fed (and for this we thank our very large, former Marine cousin George for watching our house while we are away), and laundry cleaned.  As much as we like to go out for a good meal, hell for us would be trying to find a good meal three times a day.  So we bring a stove, a cooler, and utensils.  Sometimes we eat grand (we have steamed lobsters before), but more times it is a spaghetti and a can of vegetables.  A perfect night is one of tacos, a KOA swimming pool, and a nice fire toasted by a wine pricier than the lodging.

In past trips there has also been homework done (usually done on the interstate with Henna passing it to the front seat for us to go over) and lessons learned.  I would like to say the lessons are the type only gleaned in far off places, but often they are more generic like “don’t give a two-year old a watermelon without expecting a mess.”   

So where are we off to this summer?  Well, no one has ever accused us of over planning, but this summer we hope to do even less than usual.  If it is an itinerary you are looking for you are going to have to look elsewhere.   Instead I offer you possibilities: the Pine Ridge area of Nebraska, Rocky Mountain National Park, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, Mesa Verde, Sequoia National Park, Yosemite, central coast of California, up the spine of Idaho, and select parts of Montana.  I doubt we will see all that.  As with every trip, I hope we see many a place not heard of until the moment arrived.   And as always we welcome you along.

Out with the old trip, in with the new.

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It’s that time of year again. Late May when school is winding down, deadlines are looming, and our summer trip is so close that I can almost smell the freedom in the breeze. At this point I can see plans in our future, the events that will happen after our trip and they don’t seem that far off….I sigh knowing that this trip will soon be a memory, photos on our computer to log and organize, stories to tell of our adventures or mishaps.  The endless cycle of life, moving so fast I just want to grab it and hold it, make it stay put for a moment so that I can realize it. The quickness of time is also obvious in the rapidness of Henna’s growth, as the closure of second grade rests upon me and with the inevitable push to third grade and beyond. 

Henna, whom is my best describer of feelings which most of us cannot put into words, last week, floored me with her take on a simple feeling. Let me further explain.  It had been a long day, and sometimes Henna in her tired state, but with some residual energy left in her, will describe herself as feeling she is “inside” a box, literally.  She then will run around the room, throwing her arms at the invisible constraints that she is feeling.  During these moments the best I can do for her is to distract her, bring down the walls for her by putting her in another place.   And what better way to replace your self but to turn on the TV?  Henna, who is normally not a big fan of TV, enjoys America’s Got Talent.  Whew.  So we sat on our big green chair in search of a distraction.  All was calm and it seemed to work.  Her need to run and push against the walls seemed to have faded away, and I was glad.  During the commercial break, we turned the TV off to avoid being given an urge to buy something we didn’t need and talk. Henna then began to tell me, in a calm and overly wise voice how the walls were gone…..or at least the walls did not bother her anymore.  Of course you gotta question your kid when they say something so profound, or at least to me in that moment it was profound.  “Were the walls still there”, I asked.  “Why don’t they bother you now”, I further questioned.  To which Henna stated, “I found the door.  It’s a big door so I know I can get out.”  Plain and simple mom, just like that.  I ventured on in my questioning about his door.  How come the door was not apparent a few minutes ago?  And can she go out this door to another place that doesn’t hold her in?  And why hasn’t she left the box?  I was fascinated by the clearness she was seeing all of this, and I wanted to know more, as it sounded so thoughtful and inspiring to me.  Henna then replied, again with indignation at my questions, “Mom, I slowed down long enough to find the door.  Everyone is in a box; they just need to find the door.” 

And that’s where it ended, this beautiful moment in which Henna showed me the truth so clearly and lovely. We are all in a box.  The door is there, but we need to stop and find it.  I love it.  I have tried to learn from this lesson she taught me.  How you might wonder?  I am no longer trying to stop time.  No longer am I lamenting as I did at the beginning of this story, about wanting to hold precious events…blah…blah. I am resting within the planning of the trip, enjoying the anticipation of it all and slowing down, inside my “box”.  As I say farewell to last years trip, I am realizing each moment, not looking to the next happening in time, but instead enjoying the one I’m in.  I know where my door is now. 

And just knowing it’s there makes me feel good; thank you Henna.   

Great Alpine Lakes of the West: Lake Marie off Hwy 130 in the Snowy Mountains of WY

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Beyond the one stop travel marts and manicured rest stops is a parallel world of state parks, lonely drives, exciting vistas, and opportunities hard to find when going 70 MPH.  To us the best planning involves endless staring at our Rand McNally Road Atlas in search of the possible.  Such planning got us first to Curt Gowdy State Park (in time to catch a blue grass festival) and then on top the snowy mountain range to camp at beautiful Lake Marie (elevation high enough for year round snow, maybe +9.000’).  We spied moose, hiked around the alpine wonderland, and wondered at night if the light rain would turn to snow before morning.  A real bummer was Henna repeatedly becoming sick through the night. Corey and I tried our best to comfort her and knew that there was nowhere to go until daylight.  My friend Louie (who also first told us of this Swiss Alps like place) thinks it was altitude sickness.  Corey suspects stomach flu (she was sick two nights later at Angel Lake State Park in Nevada).  Me, I try not to choose sides.  Either way we slinked off the mountain the next morning and regrouped in Evanston, Wyoming.  The next day Henna was her usual, cheerful self.

Great Alpine Lakes of the West: Waterton, Cameron, and Bertha

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This is the story of three lakes all found within Waterton National Park; Waterton, Bertha, and Cameron.  Waterton Lake, at about 4000’ altitude is the lowest and most accessible of the three.  Whereas Banff and Lake Louise appear over crowded with tourists in a rush, Waterton National Park is all about the loitering traveler.  Spend less than a weekend and you will feel cheated.  We came thinking we would spend a couple of days and spent four nights.  I could have stayed the rest of the summer.  Lake Waterton is large, frigid from its mountain stream sources, and stunning in its beauty.  It’s also is surrounded by boat docks, cottages, diners, a quaint movie theater, and good coffee shops.  Being a Canadian National Park, each business is run by a different entity and a lot of them have a mom and pop feel that is lacking from our own National Parks.

Cameron Lake is a drive.  In fact it is a windy, uphill drive that is sometimes closed due to snow into June.  But because it is so absolutely drop dead beautiful most tourists venture the climb.  At this lake there is only one bait/canoe rental/ ice-cream/ tourist shop available and a decent size parking lot.  The lake is high (at about 5400’ elevation) and the water is cold.  When we were their last summer the boat house had just been clear to open and there were still floating patches of ice in the water.  We were also told to stay clear of the American side due to grizzlies having been spotted there (we went closer to our country’s side than we probably should have and saw no bears). 

Berth Lake is a hike.  From our campsite and back it is over eight miles.  Up switchbacks, past waterfalls, through snow patches, and into the clouds the trail is wonderful and strenuous.  Henna did not complain until the very end when she plopped down on the trail and said she could go no more.  At Bertha Lake there are no shops, food, or ice cream so the three of us dined on the remainder of the snacks and tried to ignore the biting bugs.  Being that the trail was just recently opened for the season, I was seriously concerned about meeting up with a bear and we spent no more than twenty minutes on the shore.  But for that short amount of time we owned the prettiest lake in all of Canada.

Great Alpine Lakes of the West: Crater Lake

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There’s no swimming here.  And only boat at a time is allowed on the lake.  But man, the view is something.  At a little under 2000′ deep, Crater Lake is the ninth deepest lake in the world.  Really it is a completely flooded dormant (we hope) volcano.  It blew its top off and rain filled in the spaces.  That is probably an overly simple way to put it but we never claimed to be geologists.  In late July 2011 we visited this marvel and half the crater was closed to traffic due to snow.  The last of the icebergs had melted in the lake and the first boat tour of the season was the next day (usually they begin in mid-June).  The three of us threw snowballs at each other at each overlook and made a half-hearted ascent up a mountain to get a better view of the lake.  Corey and I had been to this spot before and we had taken the boat tour.  This time though, with half the park closed and more of the trip behind us than ahead, it felt pretty good sharing it with Henna.  Even if we only stayed for a few hours.

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Great Alpine Lakes of the West: Lake Tahoe

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As you can tell by our count down icon, the trip is coming soon.  Where are we headed?  West.  And in going west we hope to revisit some of our favorite spots.  Many of those spots combine two topographical features we hold dear:  altitude and water.  Some allow a little work to get there, others not so much.  A few, like our dear friend Lake Tahoe, are even overcrowded.  Its banks are lined with timeshares, casinos, parking lots, and other man-made entities (we have heard rumors though that there are quieter spots away from the crowds).  But man, those waters are beautiful to swim in.  And if you float on your back and glance sideways to the cliffs you can feel all alone out there.  Then you dry off and walk into town for a drink.