Day 1: Chicago to Waterloo, IA

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A lot of funny things today alongside rout 20.  We began by taking the interstate to Rockford and then followed 20 to Waterloo, Iowa.  We were not on the road more than a few minutes when Henna started laughing about the strange cow (methinks bull) that was trying to jump on his or her friends back.  Corey and I laughed pretty hard at that one. 

A little more down than road we stopped at the restored Apple River Fort which was more legend until a relatively recent dig found its footprint.  A small thing, a lot of houses in my neighborhood have greater dimensions.  But in this fort 60 or so men, women, and children fought off Chief Blackhawk and 200 warriors for several hours until they moved on.  The fort, visitor center, and costumed interpreters were thoughtful and gave us and the two other visitors a lot of attention.  On to Galena where we spent some time looking for parking, elbowing through crowded streets, and waiting for a slightly older teenager and her board trainee to serve us ice cream.  The whole time spent in Galena can best be described as hot, sticky, and crowded.

A couple more hours and we made it to George Wyth State Park where nothing at first worked right.  Henna caught no fish and broke her Barbie rod, it started to rain, and they don’t sell firewood.  We almost moved on to a hotel but after eating some left over sweet and sour chicken things got better.  I traded two beers for a couple of sticks, the rain let up, and brats were cooked over the grill.  Henna then spent a lot of time in the park trying to jump as far as possible from a swing.  That night was also memorable for two things:  the floating Chinese lanterns and a tail-less kitten that begged for food.  The lanterns were very much out of Tangled (you know the scene near the end where she suddenly remembers who she is) and the owners were friendly and tried to talk us into buying some in town.  I do not think air born lighted lanterns mix well in the city.  The kitty cat was fearless and cute and Henna and Corey fed him or her tuna (the kitty ate the whole can).  Right now as I am typing these words inside our tent the kitty is sleeping under our picnic table.  Feels like home.

Note:  Having trouble loading photos, will share later.

This is not a test…..

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Greeting Hennacornoelidays Nation,

Well the car is packed, the ladies are still sleeping (for now, I will start the difficulty and often dangerous task of waking them soon), and our route is as clear as it’s going to get.  Last few days have been busy ones for us as Corey and I rushed to tie up loose ends and Henna alternated being very sad that second grade is ending, but also very excited for our trip to start.  I did take the time last night to review an awesome band with an awesome name:  The Flatlanders.  True story, Corey once wanted to create a workout area for the midwest that would duplicate the experience of hiking up a mountain.  Her suggested name…. Flatlanders.  They would have sued us for everything.

Anyways, they rocked.  40 years of sometimes being together and sometimes going their own way on different projects.  And a lot of what they had to sing could only be found with a willingness to wander.  This is what I wrote if anyone is interested:  http://www.chicago-splash.com/publish/Music_107/the-flatlanders.php

So off we go on the first leg of our adventure into the corn mazes of Iowa, through the sandhills of Nebraska and down past the wildfires of Colorado to the amazement of Rocky Mountain National Park and the comforts of Breckenridge.  We are glad that you are here for the ride.

Some of My Favorite Things

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I set up the tent in the backyard yesterday.  Although we find our summer home quite comfortable, we chose instead to sleep in our beds.  I also heated up some baked beans on our propane stove and later roasted marshmallows with some neighbors and friends.  All of this felt like practice for our coming summer road trip and is helping me  mentally prepare for the adventure.  So on that note, I would like to share with you some of my favorite road trip things (I ain’t Oprah by the way so do not expect me to be giving away any of these treats for free).

  1. The kitchen.  Having a stove, silverware, plates, and a few pots and pans allows us an amazing amount of culinary freedom.  Our plan is always to eat out when we want to and not because we have to.  To accomplish this, we pack wisely and include almost everything but the kitchen sink.  Our propane stove packs into a small, flat rectangle that takes up almost no room.  Everything else is stored in a stackable plastic drawer unit that allows us, in theory, access to what we need without tearing up the vehicle.  For overspill (the contents of our car often swell and compact like an accordion as we grocery shop and consume across the land) we use a small extra cooler.  A larger stainless steel cooler (covered in travel stickers and originally a wedding shower gift) serves as our fridge.  Together it wedges nicely into the back and does not obscure our rear view mirror.
  2. Coffee maker.  This could have been included above but I think it deserves special mention.  Our maker is a simple percolator that I heat up on the stove.  Corey and Henna like to sleep in, so many a morning it is just me and my friend Mr. Joe hanging out by a morning fire.  Sometimes I see really cool stuff that disappears immediately after dragging the two ladies out of the tent (examples include a turkey family, bison, and weird neighbors in odd morning garb walking to the bathroom).  When Corey does finally wake I just place Mr. Joe over the fire to heat up.  Nothing better.
  3. Charcoal.  Again, could be included above but for me charcoal is more than just a grill necessity.  Charcoal is also an excellent fire starter.  This took me a few years to nail down, but this is what you do.  Cook in fire pit over charcoal (easy to do when there is a grill over pit).  After meat or veggies are done, immediately flip-up grill and place wood over coals.  Wood burns quickly and you are good for the night.
  4. Cheap camping chairs.  More freedom.  Pull up to a pretty view; take out chairs, let kid play in nature.  Repeat as often as possible.     
  5. Bathing suit.  This is kind of a no brainer, but keep your suit close by and a quick picnic turns into a road trip highlight.
  6. Small food stands by the side of the road.  Get off the highway and live like a king.  I close my eyes, think of a state, and remember meals gone by.  Washington….. cherries the size of a babies fist.  Michigan, more cherries, strawberries, and blueberries.  Illinois, a lot of corn if you know where to look.   The Maritime Provinces are all about the sea and I love those scallops (to be honest I don’t mind the mussels either).   Honestly, wherever you travel in this good continent, the opportunity to eat well is always a possibility.
  7. Trails that start in a city or town and end up in wilderness.  Juneau has to be the best example of this.  We parked in the city, walked a little bit to get lunch, walked some more to burn off that lunch and ended up on a trail with joggers.  Same trail narrowed a bit and it was not long before we found ourselves almost alone in an alpine meadow with a rougher trail extending further into the horizon.  I was still full from lunch. 
  8. Cool neighbors.  We are lucky that home has plenty of these.  On the road we have had some luck with this too.  Recently in Waterton we met a very cool family that introduced us to ginger wine, collapsible kayaks, and Canadian friendliness (that last one we actually knew well before meeting them).  From new friends, Corey and I have learned no less than three card games (including Cribbage in a hut on top of Mount Jefferson in the White Mountains), supervised several play dates, talked politics and religion, and found out more about the many different ways to live your life than would ever be possible staying at a hotel.  Of course we have also had barking dogs (we have that at home too) and inconsiderate parties nearby.  But those experiences have been much fewer than the good ones.
  9. Good, local wine.  Drink well sleep cheap.  Camping in Humbolt Redwood State Park.  $25.  Blue Jay Pinot Noir, $40.  Much better than a $100+ hotel room and a cheaper bottle of wine. 
  10. My tent.  We have gone through a few tents before our current 4 person backpacking tent.  All the tents have felt like home and all them have allowed us to live, ever so briefly, in some of the most amazingly beautiful places in the world.
  11. This blog.  It was Corey’s idea and I was not immediately thrilled by the idea.  But it has been a lot of fun sharing with you our adventures.  We hope that this site continues to evolve and becomes a true travel resource.

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.

Why I Like the Cowboy Junkies

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Neither cowboy nor junkie (I hope), the Cowboy Junkies have been making and delivering music for almost three decades.  I never really knew the band until last night, but I have always loved their name.  Cowboy Junkies.  Are they junkies for cowboys?  I think instead they are junkies for being a cowboy.  Many years ago Corey and I were driving our 1998 2 door Jeep Cherokee north into Nova Scotia with the sky darkening ahead and a sunset out the driver’s side window and I thought of us as cowboys (on a steel horse we ride- apologies to Bon Jovi).   To cowboy, for us, is to put a little art in the wander. After seeing them last night (and writing it up for Splash), I now like them for their music.  They’re good.  Not great, but better than many.  And they are more than capable of haunting every inch of venue with their delightfully gloomy sound.

Before seeing them last night I stumbled unto their website.  A prominent part of their site is their “tour diary” and it felt a lot like this blog in that you could never be quiet sure who was writing what, not everything was flattery, and it talked a lot about being on the road.  They talked up watching hockey in bars and on their tour bus, complained about dressing rooms and a lack of respect given, and were appreciative of being allowed to use washing machines and dryers in Omaha.  In concert last night they sighed at the thought of doing back to back shows (I saw their first gig at 7 and they were on again at 10) and applauded not only the audience, but the good parking at the venue.  The miles beneath their feet were evident in Margo Timmins deliberate pacing on stage as well in the stories she hinted at (which I knew more about after reading their blog but still much less than the whole story).  She also apologized for playing the new stuff first before going deeper into the catalog (“well, we hope to sell more music” is what I think she said).  The band played well, but they looked less than fresh.

And isn’t that what travel is?  The best of the best in travel writing, Paul Theroux, gives us long waits in third world government offices, battles with gout, and the bumps in a long bus ride to a desolate border crossing where he will wait some more.  All of it makes the sunrise over water or the honest conversation with a rickshaw driver more special for being real.  Travel is often nothing more than tedium interrupted by moments of illumination.  I love the Cowboy Junkies (and like their music) because they are honest travelers not above a complaint or two.  Driving across a foreign country (even one as lovely as ours) is tiring.  At the end of a long tour it would suck to do back to back concerts (they played last night, by the way, for almost 2 hours without break leaving them just an hour before the next concert).  I feel the miles on our trips and we do it for fun; them they do it for….   I don’t know.  But they did it (and did it well).  God bless the Cowboy Junkies.

If you want to check out the related article click here:  http://www.chicago-splash.com/publish/Entertainment/cat_index_chicago_entertainment/the-cowboy-junkies.php  Here also is their website complete with Tour Diary:  http://latentrecordings.com/cowboyjunkies/