Jump naked in a mountain lake. Hitchhike back to our car after realizing the trail isn’t actually a loop. Walk around the campground each morning in a bathrobe and cowboy hat. Hear bald eagles screech at one another. Watch horses be driven from one pasture to another while munching on your overpriced but decent fish and chips. And best of all, spend a solid week with your best friend/lover/rock star wife hardly ever being more than a few feet from one another (and I don’t even mind now her insisting that we use the small tent).

It’s not all idyllic. Over the past week there have been not one, but two high speed chases within the park boundary. One involved two idiots from California drag racing. The other was an alleged attempted murder in Yellowstone followed by a stolen car which possibly reached speeds in excess of 100 mph while being chased by park police down into GTNP. Corey and I also witnessed a shootout in Jackson but I’m pretty sure they were just actors. I mean, who wears a microphone during a shootout?

We by the way have been passing out IPAs like boxes of cigarettes in a prison. Yesterday alone I passed out four beers. Three to the nice family who drove us from the Lupine Meadows parking area to the Bradley Taggart jump off point. Saved us a gruelling five mile walk at the end of a challenging trail. Lessons learned are that people are kind and also that All Trails is not infallible. A couple hours later a man offered me an almost completely filled Jet Boil canister (he was flying home the next day). And that my friend earned him an IPA.

We also woke up to a mostly flat tire. The kind folks working at Colter Bay gave us good advice. And then at Jackson Lodge Quentin, who does not drink beer or kombucha, professionally patched everything up. It was one of those things that could have broken in either direction. Luckily it went our way.

Camping life ain’t for everyone. First night rolling into Colter Bay was a master class on precipitation. Despite being a balmy 40 degrees we had tiny white flakes. And solid little ice dots. Also rain. Lots and lots of rain which fell seemingly oblivious to the above sky which itself alternated between a splotchy blue-gray and a more solid gray. Our weather app kept putting the chance of rain at a measly 20% with clear skies coming around the bend. So with that false hope Corey cooked up yummy sauteed portobello and pepper sandwiches served with a side of instant mashed potatoes (that was my contribution). And then we ate it under our tiny makeshift awning. Our cooler made a stingy kitchen table so she had to hold onto the frying pan while I prepped the buns. Then we shared a fork for the mashed potatoes eaten right out of a pot. Now who wouldn’t enjoy that?

Ah but sometimes the best part of camping are the friends you make. Our camping neighbors are the best. A big joyous family who seem to have adopted us. So far we have gotten one can of spicy tuna, two Keystone Lights, a mosquito repellent device and delicious Korean sweets. Each gift has been met with an equally random object (fire starter and a couple of IPAs) but honestly there is no way for us to keep up. They are loud too. Incredibly loud. Every morning they wake up around six and then shout to one another from seemingly impossible distances. They also shout out a good morning to me as I wander past their site to the bathroom about an hour earlier than I wish. And then a short time later they will walk over with a gift.

A feral five year old wandered into our camp last night around dinner time. Cute kid she kind of wandered about our awning until her parents called her back to the RV.

It has also been quite cold each of our nights here. Twenty eight degrees my phone said. Last night I crawled out of my sleeping bag around 2:30 to take a stroll (I had to pee). Beautiful sky. A million stars with the Milky Way a messy thumb print smudged against the sky. Made the cold, the rain, everything worth it.

This morning there was fresh dew in Waterloo, Iowa. It helped to remind us we were still just half a drive away from Chicago. Three hundred and fifty miles later though and the sky now seems too dry for morning dew. The food options have also drastically changed with our dinner menu tonight much more “meat forward” than Corey would prefer. In-between now and this morning though was a world of simple and grand adventures only possible when traveling the route less traveled.

And then more caffeine at Hardline Coffee Company which is housed in an early twentieth century building that just a few years ago was the site of an adult book store.

Corey wrote beautifully last night about repurposing. Within this retracing though there  also remains the possibility of new discovery. This is partly the reason why we keep repeating the same steps.

It’s day one of mine and Noel’s 27th summer trip. Gulp. Man, time is flying faster than the Iowa wind howling by outside. Waterloo Iowa wind to be exact which is where I am penning this entry from. As curious folks asked where our trip this summer was taking us this year, my simple reply was, “Oh, out west”. If they asked me to expound I would add, “Day 1 is Waterloo, Iowa”. To this detail the conversation would halt as said questioner wondered why start in such a seemingly inconspicuous place.

Well see, I’d begin, we’ve been west via route 20 before-and route 20 takes you through Rockford, west to Waterloo Iowa and…..to which I would lose the listener’s interest. Which was fine by me.

Over the last 26 summer trips we’ve crossed old paths over and over again-mostly on account of Noel’s memory for a place. I’d say it is his special food memory for a place. So this year when planning Noel asked of Waterloo, “Do you remember the cool hotel we stayed?” My reply, “Um, maybe?” Noel recounted something about a repurposed factory. Then Noel asked “recall the brewery we ate at in town that was housed in a repurposed hostess bread factory, with the cool doors?” Me. Again. “Um maybe. Oh yea”. You may think I’m not too keen an observer. But I am. In my own way. The three of us carry our own memories of all our trips. Possibly if we could overlay them on top of each other a colorful, rich tapestry would emerge. That would be cool. Last night, over scotch on ice, we shared memories of past trips, funny stories, different perspectives to which a new memory would be added.

This trip, is our second summer trip sans Henna. Last year she was in St. Paul when we left. It was a weird trip last year without her, and we recounted memory upon memory of past trips together over the course of that trip, making her feel like she was in the back seat, as usual. All of our overlaying of routes held memories of being there with her. It was a heavy summer missing my girl.

This summer, Henna again will be up in St. Paul and then off on her own summer adventure, leaving us to travel without her. But she was home today to send us off. So alas we left her behind to visit friends before she heads back north. My sweet girl from the North Country. Driving away without her was so hard, and the sadness hit me all at once. Tears flowed similarly to when we dropped her off at college. This year as we travel, she will again be in every campsite we visit, each hike we take and each town we visit. We’ve done it all together before and I will revisit all those memories again this summer to keep her close to me. I know it’s her time now- creating her own story, and have her own adventures. She’s my amazing kid. We brought her up to love travel and the rush a new place can bring, even if it’s a place you’ve been to before.

So here’s to repurposing, as something new can spring from something old. And it can even be something better.

Corey~

What better way to celebrate Corey’s birthday than with bikes, trains and family. Despite several cocktails the night before, we managed to make the 7 AM train into the city. We then biked the eerily quiet Loop and then dragged our bikes down a flight of stairs and into the Millennium Station. We got onto the South Shore Line train before its scheduled departure of 8:30 to…..wait over an hour while they sorted some sort of electrical issue. Having local news legend Andy Shaw on our car did make the wait a little better. And I am so grateful for him answering my many, many questions about the news business. But the long wait still sucked.

In Hegewish the train picked up Tim and Linnea (also local legends) before dropping us off in Michigan City. The four of us then traveled the mile or so to Bruce and Audra’s condo. Ray and Laura were waiting which meant that all three sisters plus three brother-in-laws were there to celebrate Corey’s birthday.

We rode on the Calumet Trail toward the Dunes before detouring into the swank coastal enclave of Beverly Shores. We saw several wild turkeys and also a few colorful birds that none of us could identify. And then we had a great lunch at Shoreline Brewery (thanks again Bruce!) before taking the trains home in reverse order from the morning trek. As good as the trail and lunch were, however, I know Corey enjoyed the company more. So to my South-Side Swedish family I say “tack!”

With just a small bit of a plan we took our bikes on the train to Crystal Lake. From there we made our way to the Fox River Trail which eventually led us to Geneva. Then to get home from Geneva we took a train into the city and then another back to Edison Park. In-between Crystal Lake and home we had a yummy breakfast burrito and coffee (Crystal Lake Junction where the friendly owner and son carry a heavy English accent) and a great lunch and beer at Alter Brewing. We also rode through a protest with thumbs up and cheers in Elgin (Resist! Our Democracy is worth saving) and met a few interesting folks along the way. Like the young man who bragged to us about scoring free guacamole by lying about his birthday at Chipotle. I told him I was the CEO of Chipotle and was not amused. He backed away, like seriously worried he was going to be in trouble then nervously laughed when I told him that I was not in fact the CEO of Chipotle. There was also an older volunteer at the Geneva train platform who repeatedly snapped at a delayed teenager who kept trying to steal his spotlight. We also saw Cub fans in Crystal Lake lined up to take the train into the city. Then on our last train of the day there were fans exhausted after a long day at the park. It was actually a theme; on trains headed into the city there was a tangible sense of excitement. And then a much more muted return trip with everyone looking hungover and tired.

After four nights camping in Death Valley and Valley of Fire State Park we spent some time on the Strip. Vegas, or at least the Vegas Strip, is just plain weird. Also loud. And everywhere all at once. Might not be our favorite place but we did enjoy taking in a couple of shows and catching some sun by the pool. I even won a little money playing Blackjack. Vegas Baby!

Slot canyons have always been our favorite kind of slot. Maybe that’s why we loved Valley of Fire State Park which is an enchanting world of red rock, petroglyphs, big horn sheep and stunning vistas. And despite its proximity to Las Vegas, it boasts a night sky only slightly less impressive than the one found in Death Valley. Just $15 for a day pass and another $10 for the campsite. That’s an even better deal than a Vegas buffet.

At night heat pockets ripple the cool air the same way they do in a swimming pool. Our walk-in campsite at Furnace Creek (almost 200 feet below sea level) though cooled off nicely due to the low lying vegetation surrounding our tent. The late March day time temps almost reached a hundred with not one darn cloud in the sky. In summer this place sometimes goes weeks without dropping below a hundred.

You can feel the relief once the sun drops below the snowcapped mountains ringing the valley. Your skin breaths. In the campground people light fires despite the air temp still hovering in the mid-eighties. Birds and other animals begin to stir while the stars begin their show; hundreds of points alights against a milky white blur.

It’s all under attack. Light pollution from L.A. threatens the dark sky. Climate change is wrecking havoc on the park’s infrastructure as one in every five thousand year floods occur almost every year. Roads to popular attractions such as Scotty’s Castle have been closed for years. Even many of the 4×4 only/high clearance roads are inoperable leaving places like Darwin’s Falls accessible only by hiking a wrecked two mile road. Making things worse are the pointless cuts recently made by Trump, Vance and Musk. This cruel triad has slashed the budget for every National Park. At Death Valley it means six rangers lost their jobs for no damn good reason. There now are less campfire talks, less front country services and less resources for search and rescue (this in a park where every summer people die of heat stroke). People will die from their ignorance. Death Valley though will survive. Maybe not as it is. But it will far out last us.

Before sitting next to me the woman wiped everything down with a Clorox wipe. Her seat, the armrest, the folding down tray/ “Private Screening” (so just a tray) and, for good measure, her seatbelt buckle. She then looked me over for a few moments before deciding I wasn’t worth the wipe.

Our day started before 5 AM and included some minor drama related to our Jet Boil. Is it a stove (which is only sort of allowed on a flight) or is it a French Press. Not to get all existential on you, but does function trump form, or is Trump just an asshole? This question stumped the bag check who eventually decided it could fly with me, but only as a carry on. And then later I had to check that bag at the gate.

At the airport we also had an almost edible breakfast that consisted of barely thawed out plant based sandwiches washed down by very small cups of coffee. Also entertaining was  watching an impromptu game show brought upon by the flight being oversold. It was like a reverse auction with the people at the gate every few minutes upping their payout. They needed two volunteers. The first to volunteer settled for a  measly few hundred dollars toward a future flight. It wasn’t until about thirty minutes before boarding that the offers got serious. A lucky winner ended up walking away with a first class ticket for an early evening flight plus a $1500 travel voucher. Well played my man. Well played.

Bit by bit after the flight we begin to feel ourselves. Lunch, coffee, a quick stop at REI and then we checked into our hotel in Parhump and had a quick nap. Afterwards we wandered about  the carnival in town and had an amazing dinner at Mom’s Diner where the chicken fried steak was followed by pie a la mode. Sweetest day we have had in a long time.