Author Archives: hennacornoelidays

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About hennacornoelidays

Our family loves to travel, camp, and basically go trapsing across this land. We also love to share our stories as well as our favorite picks for adventures. In 2015 Hennacornoelidays Press published the first of what will hopefully be many travel guides. Check it out!

Blue Mountain Lake, Adirondacks

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On one of the shortest day of the year it seems fitting that I reminisce about the long days.  Summer to us means adventure; road travels and other.  I especially love finding a place beautiful enough to be popular to the masses, but, for whatever reason, remains a more local treat.  The Blue Mountain Lake region of the Adirondacks is such a place.

The Adirondacks is an interesting world.  It is sometimes a wilderness, sometimes a crowded resort town, and sometimes a quaint getaway.  The road from Utica (28) samples all of that on its slow ascent to the 28/30 intersection.  By the time you have reached the intersection of 28/30 you have shaken off many of the day trippers and resort goers.  The Blue Mountain Lake area to us feels like a small state park tucked into the mountains.  Eating options are decidedly fewer and if you have no groceries you might find yourself, as we did, dining on gas station pizza and potato chips.

Our lodging choice is Lake Durant, a stone throw from Blue Mountain Lake.  Lake Durant has one of the best swimming beaches we know.  Canoes are also available (a canoe truck drives through the camping loop each morning) and fishing is good.  Lake Durant has one camping area with sites on both sides of a gravel road.  Sites are either on the lake or are separated from the lake by the road.  Not surprisingly the lake side sites fill up first.  Several campers indicated that the campground only fills up completely a few summer weekends.  Nearby Blue Mountain Lake is larger and colder (the beach is bigger too but the colder water makes for worse swimming) and also offers canoe rentals.   Many years ago Corey and I took our first canoe trip on this lake.  We also fell into a lake for the first time ever  which led to our first canoe related lesson (how to successfully put a canoe into a lake).   

Blue Mountain is there for the climbing.  Corey and I have climbed it twice, Henna once.  The first time Corey and I were in our late 20s and I remember it being a pretty easy hike with a great view on top.  There are even better views from on top of the fire tower.  The second time up we were in our late 30s (Henna was not quite 7).  Henna did fine but was sort of pushed up the last half mile or so.  Corey and I worked harder to get up that mountain that I would care to admit.  The last chunk of the hike is straight up (no switch backs here) and I cursed gravity most of the way up.  We ended in a collapsed heap at the base of the fire tower.  There we met a mountain hermit or, actually, a young college student living at a cabin just behind the fire tower for the summer.  He was eager for conversation and told how a black bear walked just past his cabin a few nights past.  We stayed awhile on top of the mountain.  Henna and Corey refused to climb up the fire tower but I did and got some nice pictures for my effort.

Cosby Campground

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Unfortunately one of our favorite spots in the world is also one of the world’s favorite spots.  I am talking about Great Smokey Mountain National Park which is but a day or two away from New York City, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and other points east.  The park is beautiful in the fog, magical at twilight, and crowded whenever.  Car jams aplenty, crowded trails, and do not even think of going to Cades Cove on a weekend afternoon.  But there is a place on the periphery of this madness that is hardly ever too crowded.  Cosby Campground.  While other campgrounds fill up every night, our family was only one of two families in the entire campground loop the three nights we stayed.  This other family had a camper so we actually had the whole bathroom to ourselves (modern plumbing, no showers).  Every afternoon someone cleaned the bathroom.  This was maybe the nicest, most hygienic campground experience I have had in my 13 or so years of car camping.  That trip I also woke each morning to a mother Turkey leading her charges around the campground.  I am not sure why we only stayed three nights.

There are no shortages of trails leading from the Cosby Campground.  We enjoy the small (maybe a mile at the most) nature trail which crosses and re-crosses a stream over small bridges and wide logs.  Other hikes extend miles into the park in search of waterfalls and vantage points.  Our favorite hike leads to Hen Wallow Falls which is in fact named after our daughter Henna (not really).  You can also hike in to several backcountry campsites. There is also a small graveyard near the entrance of the campground that is worth exploring.

How to get there:  From Knoxville, you continue on I40 to, maybe, exit 440.  This route avoids Gatlinburg as well as many wax museums, water slides, and Christmas themed stores.  Once turning off the highway, prepare for a windy, up and down road with a lot of confusing signs that sort of lead to the campground.  GPS sort of helps but you might have to ask for directions too.  At the campground and/ or at the trailheads, expect enough people there so that you will not get too nervous (this is black bear country after all).  But you will probably never feel crowded in.  Last time we were there the campground host said that the only time he ever remembers the campground completely filling up was on July 4th.  The campground also gets a bigger crowd on summer weekends.   So come, enjoy the peace, the quiet, and the hiking.  Just please do not tell anyone about the place.  I don’t want it to get too popular.

Missoula, Montana

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We are starting the process of summer trip planning.  Truth be told, this started some time during our last summer trip.  Corey and I both are suckers for maps and routing out trips is a great road game, especially on the interstate.  Even Henna gets into it a little.  Right now we are probably headed west through then down Colorado to the Grand Canyon, further south to visit family in Phoenix, west to S. California and then hitting Sequoia and Yosemite National Park on the way home.  We also would like to hit the pretty parts of Idaho.  And somewhere in that jumble of parks and beaches, maybe a night spent in Missoula, Mt.

Missoula is a funky western town at the intersection of I90 and route 93.  Not funky like San Francisco, but funky in that it is everything you like about the American West and everything you like about college towns blended together.  It also is set in an understated high desert landscape of low hills and buttes.  One of those hills has a giant M on top with a steep trail leading to it.  I have yet to touch that M.  Corey and I first came through Missoula on the way home from our Alaska trip.  Just married, it was our last trip sans kid and we hung out at the college bars.  The county fair was going on and we had fun betting on horses, checking out livestock, and watching some bad karaoke.  The next time through was with Henna.  No bars, the county fair was there again, and we discovered a laid back and very cool children’s museum.  They also have a great park with a restored carrousel.  If, while on the carrousel, you are able to grab the brass ring, you earn another free ride.  If I remember correctly I earned three free rides.  This summer, if we end up spending the night there, I know which horse offers the best brass ring access point.  I also plan on dragging Corey and Henna to that M.  Or more likely they will be eating ice cream while I venture a solo ascent. 

 

Angel Lake State Park, NV

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Off the interstate near Wells, Nevada (which is about 60 miles west of Utah) exists Angel Lake State Park.  The park is near but well above the sun scorched desert that is Wells.  So far above that there was snow near the campsite on the mid-July day we were there.  The state park is an oasis with a pretty campground, a stocked lake, a waterfall that we never made it to, and stars a plenty at night.  Oh, and you have to drive up a windy, not quite 2 lane road that should (but doesn’t) have a guardrail.  If you go, buy a fishing license at the gas station in Wells.  We did not and ended up paying the campground host a little something extra so we could not catch any fish.  Ah, but that ended up being the least of our worries.  Two nights before Henna woke up in the middle of the night on top of a mountain in Wyoming to get sick in the tent.  After a restful hotel stop in Evanston, Wyoming, Henna was feeling great.  The night at Angel Lake found Corey hurling under the stars.  A camping second for us.  Corey and I have since debated whether it was stomach flu (Corey’s position) or altitude sickness. 

The morning gave us a careful drive down the windy path and a fragile Corey moaning in the front seat.  Corey got a shower at the gas station/ diner (the one we should have bought the fishing license at) while Henna and I had a mighty fine breakfast.  I was feeling pretty down and out and a couple people gave us sympathetic looks.  We drove that day to Winnemucca, Nevada to sleep under the linens and then camped the day after at Lake Tahoe. The road can give good, bad, or a little bit of both.  We just roll.

Happy 100 year birthday Starved Rock!

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I was saving Starved Rock for when I had a little more time.  But the local news talked about this being the 100th year that Starved Rock has been open to the public and I could not resist commenting and posting some pictures.  Starved Rock State Park is our favorite winter destination.  Who can resist competing with other families for that sweet spot by the fireplace, tag and other games in their giant pool, and making that annual pilgrimage to a spot where a group of Native Americans supposedly were starved out.  The first few years we pulled Henna on a sled through Aurora canyons until the trail became too steep.  Now, in between snow ball fights, we sled down iced over boardwalk stairs on our buts.  Each year there also seem to be more resident eagles as well as more possums and the occasional stray cat that the bartender feeds.  And what always impresses me is that this pocket of wilderness resides less than two hours from home.

If Iowa was an Island it would be PEI

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We have been lucky enough to have visited PEI twice.  The first time Corey and I were not yet engaged.  The second time Henna was just a little kid instead of her now big kid self.  The place is truly magical.  Dozens of little towns scattered around an island whose elongated shapes makes it impossible to ever be an hour away from the water.  The sand is this rich, red, clay that you can easily mold into soft rocks (perfect for skipping).  There are also small farms everywhere and lots of places to pick up fresh mussels, lobsters, and scallops.  Seals swim the water and ospreys fly above (and fish below).  The people are extremely friendly too.  Both times we have gone to the island, people have approached struck up conversations with us.  Sometimes it’s while laughing at us while we try to steam a lobster (after the woman was done laughing she tore it apart for us in maybe five seconds).  Once while Corey and I were sipping wine and watching the moon rise above the water, a man came out of the shadows and approached the fire.  Although we were in a busy campground, our site was somewhat isolated.  As the man came closer he stopped and said, “I can’t sleep, mind for some conversation.”  His family was sleeping in an RV close by.  His house was walking distance from the campground.  He accepted a beer, talked about island life, and then was gone.  You gotta love this island.

If you go, make sure you plan ahead. The islanders like to camp out at their beaches.  We met a couple from England who had to spend one night in their car after arriving on a Friday.  Besides beaches, PEI offers very dramatic rolling hills as well as Anne of Green Gables themed points of interest.

Last note:  Our favorite beach/ campground is featured above.  Cedar Dunes Provincial Park on the northwest corner of the island.  Warmer water due to it not facing the Atlantic (in fact it faces New Brunswick), a working lighthouse with a good diner at the base, and a lot more quieter than points closer to Charlottetown.  I should make it clear; we at Hennacornoelidays always choose sunsets over sunrises.  Otherwise Jacques Cartier Provincial Park, where the sites are closer to the beach, is pretty cool too.

Lost Dutchman State Park, AZ

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I was looking through some albums and came across our visit to the Lost Dutchman State Park which is near Tortilla Flats in Arizona (not to be confused with Refried Beans, Maine).  Legend has it that there is a gold mine hidden somewhere within the park.  Never found it.  We did find sun.  A lot of sun.  Even though it was a beautiful early Spring day in the low 80s, that sun bakes you.  And deserts, by definition, do not offer much shade.  But the blooming desert and cactus views made for an enjoyable day.

Random Oregon Pics

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It is still Fall here in Chicago, but my thoughts have turned to Oregon.  These are some oldish pictures of some of our favorite places on the wet side of the mountains.  Enjoy.

The picture above and below were taken at Sunset Bay State Park.  The Oregon coast rocks.

Silver Falls State Park, about 45 miles south east of Portland is pretty cool too.  We especially enjoyed hiking behind the falls.

Kouchibouguac National Park

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In the best of travels one finds themselves suddenly in a place as comfortable as home and as mysterious as the dark side of the moon.  It is a moment when everything is easy, especially the sense of discovery.  Kouchibouguac National Park was that place for us.  Kouchibouguac was no small place and its large campground was almost filled to capacity.  New Brunswick makes a triangle into the coast with Fundy National Park south and Kouchibouguac National Park north of its most eastern point.  With miles of beaches and dense forests one could bike on paved paths, hike on the beach to distant seal colonies, dig in the tide pools for crabs and starfishes, or swim on a lifeguarded beach.  What we could not do was agree on how to pronounce the place.  A year later after traveling through BC we discovered that no two people ever pronounce it the same way.   Also everyone is sure that they are correct in their pronunciation.

We spent the day jumping in the ocean (actually the Northumberland Straight which is much warmer than the ocean) then running to the tide pools.  Henna dug out pools for her catches and played with a band of children of which only a few spoke English.  Corey and I had many conversations which led us later that night to a small restaurant nearby St. Louis (not pronounced like they do in Missouri) where they boasted a lobster and scalloped covered pizza.  Next to us was an overdressed family who spoke French.  They were three like us but, in their neatly pressed clothes, did not smile or laugh like us.  Instead they spoke low and (maybe it was my imagination) occasionally glanced at us.  They looked glum which only made us feel happier with what we had; that tight grip on the present which I feel now even more than a year away from that town near the beach. 

Monticello and Douthat State Park

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Ever wonder whose home that is on the back of the nickel?  It is Mr. Jefferson’s’, the one- two-three man (first vice president, second secretary of state, and third president of the United States).  Please do not confuse him with the one-two punch of Dernier and Sandberg of the 1984 Cubs.  After seeing recreated Colonial Williamsburg and very much alive Washington D.C., it was interesting to visit Monticello.  There are no actors dressed up in funny clothes here.  Just a wonderfully restored home of one the greatest men in American History.  For a few bucks one is treated to a tour of a classic architectural gem that offers insight into the celebrated man’s interests and talents.  No pictures were allowed inside the home, but I can tell you it is filled with original and replica fossils (President Jefferson was fascinated with mastadones), a lot of books, and very interesting details like a dumb-waiter that went to his wine cellar.  It should be noted too that upon his death Monticello went first to a daughter who then sold to a local before being purchased by Uriah P. Levy.  Mr. Levy was the first Jewish Commodore (Admiral) and very much admired the former president.  First him and then later his nephew took immaculate care of the home before selling it to a preservation society in the 1920s.

After our tour we found a cool apple farm nearby and then retired at the local KOA. The next day we took a gander at the University of VA (designed by Mr. Jefferson).  UVA is almost as picturesque as Ohio University but has better eating options nearby.  We then enjoyed camping at Douthat State Park.