Ottsworld Travel Experiences » North America

Unique Boston Travel Experiences

admin — Tue, 27 Jul 2010 04:28:49 +0000

Pink sunset over Boston

My first trip to Boston was only 12 years ago. I was 28 and was finally starting to venture out of the ‘safety’ of the Midwest. I was excited to see the city where American history came alive; I wanted to walk the Freedom Trail, see the where all the famous events took place from Boston Common to the North Church to Bunker Hill.

Not only was I interested in the old Boston, but at the time I was interested in the new Boston. Twelve years ago Boston was better known for the setting of the TV show Cheers than the Boston Tea Party. I, like many people, was a big fan of the Cheers gang; I was excited to visit the replica TV show bar.

My style of travel has certainly evolved in the last 12 years and now the thought of going where everyone else goes, or where everyone knows my name is about as exciting as going for a papsmear. With this trip to Boston, I was ready to get off the same ole tourist trail and seek out more unique travel experiences.

Boston is visited by millions each year walking the Freedom Trail, riding on Duck tours, watching the Red Sox, drinking at Cheers Bar, and sampling the famous clam chowder. If you are tired of doing what everyone else does, then it’s time to get off the tourist track…and onto the Ottsworld track to Boston!

Juliet protecting her nest

Duck Tours? See the real swans instead

Why ride a metal car/boat when you can see the real thing? (yes, I know a duck is different than a swan – but they are both birds!) Stop by the Boston Public Garden (near BostonCommon) and you’ll find some lovely swans, named Romeo and Juliet, nesting by the serene lake. Sit and watch the swans build and maintain their nest to keep the eggs safe. Granted – the babies may have hatched by the time you read this – but that’s even more reason to go check out the young ones!

Red Sox? Watch the sand sculpting competition

Skip the green monster and go see the sand monsters instead! Revere Beach in Boston hold a sand sculpting competition each year in mid July. The sand sculptures are evaluated using four categories: (1) degree of difficulty, (2) originality and creativity, (3) quality of sculpting, and (4) overall visual impact – and to the winner goes a $15,000 check…yup – it may not be a million dollar baseball salary – but it’s no small change!

Cheers Bar? See the real brewers at Harpoon Brewery

Who needs Sam the bartender when you have the young tour guides of Harpoon Brewery behind the bar? The Harpoon brewery is located in South Boston at the seaport; an unlikely place for a brewery, but worth the trip. Tours are given on the weekends and only costs $5. The best part of course is the generous tastings you get to do on the brewery tour.

Boston Harbor

Clam Chowdah? Go for some soul…food

Sure, we all know that Boston is known for sea food and especially their famous clam c

howdah. I was also surprised to find a soul food restaurant in the heart of the city called the Hen House. No seafood here, just chicken, waffles, BBQ and greens! Open late and night and delivering to your door you can have the brilliant soulful combination of waffles and fried chicken!

Freedom Trail? Follow the stars to the Southie Trail

Each day thousands of people walk the Freedom Trail, but not far from the Freedom trail lies a real melting pot of ethnicity and architectural landscape – South Boston (aka Southie). This is where the Irish and Italians originally brought their families to settle down into blue collar Boston life. Southie is the scene of many Oscar nominated movies such as Good Will Hunting and The Departed. If you pay close attention as you walk around the South Boston neighborhood, you may even start to pick up that famous Boston accent…leave your r’s behind and fit into the neighborhood!

Break away from the tourist pack and find some new travel experiences in Boston!

View and purchase my best Boston Photography

Photo of the Week – Boston

admin — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 05:01:00 +0000

Doing something a little different this week and instead of one photo, I’m bringing you a photo walk I did while staying in Boston this summer. I walked around the historic neighborhood of Beacon Hill where cobblestone streets and gas lamps take you back in time. Then I took a wander through the famous Boston Common; a historical gathering spot for all of Boston. The park was bursting with color and some new life this summer! Enjoy!

Gas Lights Burn all day

Cobble Stone Streets of Beacon Hill

Flowers at the Market

Beacon Hill Homes

Bike Beacon Hill

The Grand Lawn of Boston Common

Hanging Trees

Swan Gracing the Lake

Purple Pods

FREE Trial – Trust your most precious memories to SmugMug, upload your photos today.

To view more travel photos this Friday – check out Briefcase to Backpack’s Photo Friday!

Boston has Soul…Food

admin — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 12:16:44 +0000

I love a well 'connected' waffle!

It was a measly 140 characters that came dancing across my screen and firmly implanted itself it the part of my brain responsible for desire. It happened quickly…before I could even object. Hen House had taken up residence in my brain, and now my desire had to be satiated.

Fried chicken and waffles. Together. As one happy calorie-filled family. I had to have it.

I found a friend, Marty, who was willing to join me in this soul food artery attack in Boston. On one of the hottest days of the year, we met at the Hen House where of course the air conditioner was broken; getting things off to a rough and sweaty start. The inside of the Hen House was simple…very simple. Plastic utensils, plastic plates, and lots of fountain soda graced the counter top; above that was an impressive collection of chicken knick-knacks. The woman behind the counter had a cold, wet towel draped around her neck and looked at me waiting for an order to come out of my mouth. I stood there with an indecisive look on my face, a look the woman behind the counter was all too used to. It was as if she didn’t have any more time to deal with a rookie.

The Hen House was all about decisions…hard decisions.

I stared at the menu board trying to determine what waffle, chicken combination I wanted to try. There were 4 hard decisions to make:

Decisions, Decisions...

I was paralyzed and on top of it was sweating profusely from the lack of air conditioning. I finally gave up and asked the young girl behind the counter what her favorite was. She quickly said banana, honey whipped, maple, tenders…all run together so fast I had to ask her to repeat it. I went with her advice since she was the professional.

After 5 minutes I soon heard my name called and out came a plastic plate with a round waffle on it, a large dollop of butter melting into the little squares of the waffle, and topped with 4 pieces of chicken tenders.

Nice presentation!

I took my plastic utensils and dug in to the sticky, crispy goodness. This unlikely combination was everything I was expecting and more. The silky butter and maple syrup mixture even managed to make me forget about how hot it was in the restaurant! Marty and I both finished our plastic plates and agreed Boston did indeed have soul…food.

To learn more about Boston’s Hen House resaturant serving up soul food into the wee hours of the night, check out their website at TheHenHouseBoston.com One of the niceest developed webs sites I’ve seen for a fun little restaurant. Plus – you can also find the Hen House on Facebook and Twitter!

Can’t get enough food – then hop on over to Wanderlust and Lipstick and check out other food posts for the day!

Southie Trail

admin — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 04:49:03 +0000

South Boston

When traveling to Boston 80% of the people stick to the Freedom Trail re-familiarizing themselves on stories of American independence while being herded through the heart of the city. However I like to separate from the herd, and that’s just what I did as I explored a neighborhood off the tourist trail, South Boston. Southie, as locals call it, also has its share of patriotism, housing the Irish, Italian, Lithuanian, and Polish American communities. It’s where ethnicities and average income collide, and you’ll never hear an ‘r’ muttered. The Southie city landscape is as diverse as the people who live there; you’ll find seaports, cruise ship parking, warehouse districts, beaches, and old early American architecture. But mainly, you’ll realize that Southie is the blue-collar neighborhood that feeds our Boston stereotypes.

Warehouse District and Seaport

The area is slowly changing from old abandoned buildings to hipster hangouts. Cool bars are now intermixed with graffiti covered buildings; giving is a rough but trendy feel. The ‘cherry on top’ is the ICA Museum (Institute of Contemporary Art) located on the waterfront. If you walk west along the water you’ll move from warehouses to shipping yards and then eventually cruise ship parking. Another gem in the middle of this seaport gruffness is the Harpoon Brewery – a somewhat unlikely place for a brewery, but a great stop in South Boston when you are thirsty.

Warehouse Art?

Island Oasis

Castle Island is the oasis of Southie, providing a family beach, running path, picnic and fishing areas all right in Southie’s backyard. No, there is no castle with great folklore, instead it is a collection of forts built for the sea defense of Boston that make up the ‘castle’. In 360 years of the fort’s existence on the island, there was only 1 hostile action. The rest of the time it was used for training of troops, and as a prison; today it is simply a neighborhood attraction, but only on weekends and Thursday evenings. However the grounds around the fort are perfect for soaking up the sun with a nice sea breeze. Never mind the constant plane traffic; the island is on the flight path for Logan Airport. As you walk the circular path around the island you are not only graced with views of Logan Airport, but you also get nice views of downtown Boston.

Castle Island Beach

East Meets West

The eastern part of Southie is full of young families in remodeled historic homes as gentrification has moved into the neighborhood in full force. However as you walk along the main artery of Southie, Broadway St., you’ll slowly cross into a glimmer of what Southie used to be. As you cross from East Broadway to West Broadway the dog stores disappear and the dollar stores start to appear. You’ll begin to see remnants of old industry and parking lots filled with empty buses. East Broadway is littered with bars, autoshops, and pizza/sub shops. Everything seems to have some sort of Irish name. I found the Gaelic Day Spa (basically nail salon) particularly fascinating, as there was nothing Gaelic about it except the sign; inside it was all Vietnamese women. I wondered if they even understood the word Gaelic.

East Broadway is also dominated by barbershops. I love barbershops, they make me feel like I’m in an actual neighborhood where people talk to each other. Men sit and gossip, socializing with good ole boys. As I walked down Broadway, the network of South Boston good ole boys seems to be strong. You’ll find groups of older men hanging out on the sidewalks socializing; giving you the feeling they have known each other their whole lives.

Industrial Southie

Cultural Pastimes

Smoking, drinking, and gambling – this was the noticeable culture of South Boston. As I walked around Southie the number of people who were outside smoking cigarettes struck me; I sort of felt like I was back in Asia. In addition, no matter what time of the day there were people at the local Irish bars. At 9AM while I walked to the grocery store there were people outside the local pub smoking and plenty of people sitting inside too. Besides drinking and smoking, there were other patterns of activities I witnessed; the corner stores were less store and more lottery sales. I’d go in to get milk and be amazed at the line of people buying lottery tickets. In fact, one of the busiest stores was the Dunkin Donuts that sold donuts on one side and lottery tickets on the other.; a seemingly strange combination, but not for Southie.

Ethnic Treats in Southie

South Boston can provide a unique travel experience for your Boston itinerary. Next time you travel to Boston, consider skipping the Freedom trail for the ‘Southie trail’. It’s less crowded and just as interesting and rich in culture.

SmugMug.com – Serving up crisp, clear photos – without the side of Spam.

Love Travel, Love Beer, Love Life

admin — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 04:20:55 +0000

Choices, Choices...

When you travel, your life is enriched in so many ways. Every time I travel to a new country and immerse myself in it, there’s at least one thing from the ‘foreign’ culture I wish I could bring back and add to my own American culture. The concept of pulling the best out of each country and creating a ‘super-country’ is kind of like a Hollywood script – unbelievable. However back in the 80’s 2 young guys taking a gap year backpacking in Europe did just that on a smaller scale; with beer.

Dan and Rich, graduated from Harvard and decided to go out and see the world, or more accurately go out and drink what the world had to offer. After backpacking through Europe, they fell in love with the beer culture, and upon returning to the US, they were disappointed with the beers in America. They did what any other beer lovers with a Harvard degree would do, they got their MBA’s and started Mass Brewing Company producing Harpoon beer.

Kegs

I was surprised to find out that only 1 1/2 miles from where I’ve been staying for the last 5 weeks is the home of Harpoon Beer. Since I’m not from New England, I hadn’t really heard about Harpoon beer before, but was surprised to find out on their website they are one of the largest specialty beer producers in the US and the 3rd largest brewer in New England. I also learned the brewery only runs tours on the weekend, so I decided I would do some ‘traveling’ of my own, and walk the 1 ½ miles to the brewery for the $5 tour.

I didn’t need a map, all I had to do was follow my nose – to the smell of fish. The brewery is located in the Marine Industrial Park and seaport of South Boston. As I walked away from all of the cute little row houses of Southie, my surroundings quickly changed to long square-box buildings in various forms of disrepair. This also seemed to be the area where all of the bus charters came to rest when they weren’t chartered. Amidst this collection of warehouse buildings, buses, construction, and a fishy odor stood Harpoon Brewery. I looked at my watch before I entered; it was noon, perfect, it was officially ok to be drinking beer.

At Harpoon you enter and exit through the giftshop. The good news is that the giftshop is not only full of gifts, but full or an amazing collection of beer cans. I could have stared at that wall for hours reminiscing about beers I used to drink, or beers my dad used to drink. They actually had a can of Red White and Blue beer. That beer used to grace the garage of my childhood home; case after case. No, we weren’t a patriotic beer drinking family, we were a cheap beer drinking family. Soon they were calling me for the 12:30 tour and I was jolted out of my beer memories, and into the world of modern day brewing.

Golden Pour

I paid my $5, showed my id and was ready to start learning about Harpoon brewing. As our small group entered the brew floor, I immediately noticed the company slogan painted on the wall of the brewery – Love Beer, Love Life, Harpoon. Not a bad motto. The tour provided the usual info on the brewing process; ingredients, mash, filtering, fermentation, bottling, and shipping. It was all great stuff told by young kids that barely looked 21 (seriously – did someone check their id?) but were clearly enthusiastic about Harpoon beer.

As we entered the fermentation area, we learned we were surrounded by 40,000 gallons of beer; I was in good company. They handed us each a small tasting glass and with a quick flash of a blowtorch, the guide sanitized one of the spouts of the huge fermentation tanks and started draining out unfiltered beer into pitchers for us to taste. We finished the tour with the kegging and bottling process and since our glasses were empty, headed back of the pièce de résistance– the tasting room.

I’ve been to my share of brewery tours, bourbon tours, and wine tastings but Harpoon had to be the most generous tastings I’ve ever done. Armed with out little tasting glasses, we had the choices of 12 different beers on tap and about 20 minutes to taste whatever we wanted. My college drinking gene somehow was awakened inside of me and I bellied up to the bar and plotted out my course of tastings. I’d start with the classic IPA, move to the variety of unfiltered beers, sample the cider, and then to the dark stuff.

From Another World

The tour guide bartenders had heavy hands when it came to pouring and my little tasting glass never went empty. The UFO beers (Un-Filtered Offerings) were some of my favorites. The UFO White was a distinct nod to Belgian beers with it’s spiced wheat flavor served with an orange, and the UFO Raspberry was a refreshing summer beer that even looked pink in the glass. However my favorite was the Harpoon Dark which reminded me of coffee; a mixture of coffee and beer is kind of like a little slice of heaven to me. I drank and drank while the young tour guides socialized and threw a few back themselves (a job with perks!).

All good things come to an end unfortunately. I found myself outside the brewery with an incredible beer buzz at 1:30PM. My inner college student was happy, but my mature 40 year old mind was telling me that I better get some food in my body quickly! I walked out of the smelly seaport area, into a hip warehouse district, and found myself the perfect cheeseburger. I of course ordered a Harpoon pint to go with it.

The Harpoon Beer story is just yet another story of how travel makes the world a better place. So what are you waiting for – get out there and go explore the world! You never know what you will find!

Tasting Room

What things have you seen in your travels that you’d like to bring back to America to infiltrate our culture?

The Facts:
Harpoon Brewing Company
306 Northern Avenue
Boston, MA 02210
Tours held on the weekend only, no reservation necessary. Tastings done daily.
Website: http://www.harpoonbrewery.com/

Itinerary Update – Boston to Europe

admin — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 04:44:28 +0000

Greetings from New England!

It’s time for a little Sherry update. I try not to do these too often so that I can remain a mystery and therefore more interesting…but here goes – the mystery is revealed in a short post.

Waiting for the fireworks in Boston

Where am I now?

I’ve been in Boston now for 5 weeks house-sitting and haven’t really written a thing about it.
Bad, bad, travel blogger.
My lack of Boston writing has been due to my lack of Boston activities. I’m not looking for pity, but it’s simply a fact. I’ve kind of chosen not to go out much because I took the opportunity to work on some other writing/website projects. However all of this online, inside time has taken its toll. I lack a nice bronze summer tan and I’ve been through a bottle of eye drops already thanks to staring at this screen.

My pale skin and dry eyes are because my other project, Meet Plan Go!, is coming along nicely. I’m working harder than I ever have…but the difference is that I’m absolutely loving it. It’s amazing that when you start working for yourself, how much more fun work becomes. It’s exhilarating, scary, and challenging…and it’s for me.

My Virtual World

Brian, Amy, and I drinking patriotic beers on the 4th.

I attended the Travel Blog Exchange Conference in NYC at the end of June. This was a chance for my virtual life to collide with my physical life as I met online travel friends I’ve known for 2 years, but never shook their hand or gave them a hug. The collision resulted in a Super Nova of travel blogging goodness. It also made me realize once again that I really do love what I’m doing.

I’ve had more virtual/physical world collisions lately as I spent the 4th of July with my longtime online friends and Ottsworld enthusiasts, Brian, Amy, and Marty. I totally believe in the fact that you can meet people and make friendships online. After meeting Amy in person after conversing with her for over a year and a half online, it was like meeting a long lost friend. Everything clicked. And to top it off – it not only clicked, but it banged…with a great fireworks display along the Charles River in Boston!

Where Next?

Heading to the flower capital of the world!

I’ve also been working on some of my upcoming travel plans. They are still rather fuzzy to share everything, however my next immediate move is to head to Europe at the end of July for the month of August! I haven’t been to Europe since 2007, so I’m pretty excited to get across the pond again; especially since the Euro has tanked a bit.

I’ll be hitting two brand spankin’ new countries for me – Netherlands and Belgium. Hard to believe that I’ve never been to Amsterdam, but finally I’ll be setting foot in that eclectic city full of art, and freedom of expression. I’m even going to try couch surfing for my first time ever in Amsterdam., so expect more info on that shortly.

I’m also continuing my house-sitting gigs as I house-sit for a family in Brussels for 1 month. I’m loading up on my allergy pills and taking care of 3 cats while exploring Brussels and the surrounding cities and countries via the fabulous European train system. My two priorities in Brussels are chocolate and beer – the rest is just icing on the cake.

NYC to Midwest

I’ll be back in the NYC in September to kick off Meet, Plan, Go! in 13, yes – 13 cities across the country. I’ll spend the fall in the midwest house-sitting while I work on launching a product after Meet Plan Go that will hopefully be just as amazing as the event itself – stay tuned for that announcement!

That brings me to November – then what?

The Big Bang of Boston

Well, all I can say is that I will be dusting off the passport again for some grand new adventures in new parts of the world; I promise you it won’t disappoint!

On a happiness quotient – it’s over the top. I realize that as I am coming up to my 4 year anniversary of leaving Corporate America (that deserves a few fireworks!), I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’ve completely transformed my life; something that I didn’t even think was possible.

But it is…

With a little time, determination, perseverance, and lots of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, it is possible to move yourself in a whole new direction.

Before I head to Europe, I’m determined to bring you Boston over the next few weeks! So – stay tuned to learn about my experiences in the ‘mother city’ of America!

High Tech meets Old Fashioned in San Francisco

admin — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 04:42:18 +0000

This is why they call it the Golden Gate?

While in San Francisco I had the opportunity to go out to a number of new places. Let’s face it, when you are abroad for 1 ½ years, everything is new to you. When my friend David mentioned going to a speakeasy, I was confused; did I hear him correctly – a speakeasy?

He quickly got on his iphone and started surfing the web. A few minutes later he showed me the screen which read,
Your password is sugardaddy

“Remember that password” he said. “I made a reservation for 9:30.”

“Ummm, ok. ” I replied a bit confused.

As we hung out and waited for our 9:30 reservation, he told me about the new speakeasy in San Francisco. ‘New’ and ‘speakeasy’ didn’t really seem to belong together in 2010, but I had been living outside of the US for a while, so maybe this wasn’t as strange as it sounded.

Apparently this secretive place had a lot of rules and some really strong drinks. You could only get in with the password (which thanks to a computer algorithm was constantly changed) and you could get inside only at the prescribed reservation time. I was intrigued. I love new takes on the old (i.e. Shirley Bassey – The Remix Album… Diamonds Are Forever CD); modern technology meets old ways of doing things. That’s why I loved this idea of a speakeasy with web access. The only way you could make a reservation and get a password was by going to their website as a member and filling out the appropriate info. They generated a password and electronically provided it to you. A far cry from the 1920’s; but a really cool take on an old way of doing something.

We hurried through the dimly lit streets of the Tenderloin neighborhood to a big wooden door with a silver button and intercom. The building had no windows and it looked extremely plain which made it blend in with the surrounding dismal buildings. We rang the bell and you could hear a little electronic buzzer go off inside. A little window peephole opened up and two eyes were staring back at us.
“What’s the password?” the eyes said
“Sugardaddy” I said

The window peephole closed, we heard a lock turn, and the door opened…we were in!

Inside it was dark with burgundy and wood décor giving it a warm, old feeling. Old chandeliers hung from the ceiling and little intimate booths lined the walls with individual lamps creating a soft glow on each table. The music was crackly jazz with piano accompaniment. The atmosphere was clandestine and the place oozed character.

The rules were posted on the wall and went something like this:
No using cell phones
No pictures
No speaking loudly
No standing around the bar

…and that’s honestly all I could remember since I was not allowed to use my cell phone or camera to take notes of the rest!

Tastey Bourbon

The waitress took us to a booth and provided us with a menu that resembled a novel. There was a modern twist on old liquors making reading the menu a pleasure; I never knew that bourbon could be used in so many ways! The waitress was dressed in a funky 1920’s hat with a feather in it and called everyone ‘friends’. She brought us over a small champagne cocktail while we looked over the extensive drink menu; she knew that it may take a while for us to decide. Eventually she sauntered over and asked, “Friends, what can I get you tonight?”

As we sat and sipped our strong bourbon drinks from martini glasses, I noticed a waitress take a group of people through the bookshelf behind our booth. Yes, that’s right; this speakeasy even had hidden rooms. If one were to move the book on the shelf just right, the shelf opened up to a door and led you into yet another bar area.

In some weird way I felt like I was in an adult Disneyland. Someone had meticulously created this environment as a very authentic step back into time. I felt as if I were in another world; a foreign experience in my own country. But it wasn’t foreign from a culture standpoint, it was foreign from a history standpoint which is what really made it unique to me.

I can hardly wait to log into the website, get another password, and go back again next time I’m in San Francisco. Now, you may be wondering why I haven’t told you the name of the place or the location….duh…it’s a secret! Unless of course you provide me the secret password in the comments below…then I might give up the location!

Foodies Get Fresh – San Francisco

admin — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 04:43:33 +0000

The Ferry Building at Sunrise

The air was crisp and the fog slowly dissipated as each minute ticked forward; a typical San Francisco morning. The cityscape in front of me was displayed in shades of gray, but the tower still stood out. A beacon on the San Francisco waterfront, the Ferry Building clock tower draws people in from all parts of the city on Saturdays. It calls out to health-minded Californians with its organic vegetables and fruit; the best that Northern California farms have to offer.

The building opened in 1898 and served as the transportation hub for the West coast. The clock tower reaches 245 ft. tall and is the focal point of the waterfront. It was modeled after a 12th century bell tower in Seville Spain.

Brussel Sprouts in Season

However, the ferry building wasn’t able to change with the times and eventually was left behind when the car became a common fixture for Americans. In recent years though it has been saved, given a facelift and new purpose. Even though it is still sits at the site where all major transportation meets in San Francisco (BART, MUNI, and Ferry), it no longer serves as a transportation hub; instead it serves as a food hub.

After a major renovation it reopened as the place for foodies to come together. The market offers produce and flowers from small regional farmers and ranchers, many of whom are certified organic. A wealth of other products include regional artisan specialties such as breads, cheeses and jams.

Only the best from Northern California

This Saturday morning my friend and I joined the other 10,000 people that regularly attend the farmers market and picked through the best foods farmers had to offer. I was most surprised by the amount of organic products; more than anything California is all about healthy living and this was just the icing on the cake…or should I say the organic honey on the tofu!

We had arrived early in the morning as stands were still being set up and owners were preparing for a busy day of seeing their regular customers. We wandered around the inside of the historic building sipping our Blue Bottle coffee which came highly recommended to me from my Facebook friends who quickly mandated that I stop for a cup of coffee there when I had updated my status with my Ferry Building whereabouts. As I walked through the cheese shops, bakeries, and chocolate stores sipping my coffee, I could hear my stomach growling; it echoed through out the big open, acoustic hall. We went out back to see the vendor stands and eat some much needed breakfast.

Delicious San Francisco Breakfast

Not only do they sell produce out back and in front of the Ferry Building on Saturdays, but there are also stands that sell prepared food. I was overjoyed when my friend suggested that we have this amazing concoction of Mexican breakfast; corn tortillas, salsa, avocado, beans, and eggs. We found a seat on a bench overlooking the Bay Bridge and savored our Mexican breakfast while the foodies bustled around us carrying their reusable shopping sacks and a street entertainer played Beatles songs on his flute. A perfect, relaxing San Francisco morning.

After breakfast we walked around more shops and purchased jams and salsas. In addition to fresh produce and restaurants in the building, there are also a few stores. I found these bags which were made in Vietnam and for fun checked out the price tag. I had to chuckle to myself when I saw the tag read $34, when I know exactly where you can buy this same bag in Saigon for $5! Oh – I should have been in the export business!

Bay Bridge

The morning turned into noontime as the fog slowly began to lift and the sun started burning through. The Ferry Building was slowly waking up this early Saturday morning and I was thrilled to watch it, and taste it, come to life!

Farmers Market Runs on
Tuesday: 10am–2pm Thursday: 10 am – 2pm Saturday: 8am-2pm
Learn more about the Ferry Building History at http://www.ferrybuildingmarketplace.com/

If you’d like to read more about food today – check out WanderFood Wednesday at Wanderlust and Lipstick for more tantalizing food stories!

A Disappearing Town

admin — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 04:23:47 +0000

This says it all...

I remember the streets crowded with people for Pilger Days, a weekend celebration which happened once a summer. There was cotton candy, music, families walking hand and hand, a cake walk (my personal favorite), a dime toss and a myriad of other carnival games. However, now I walk through the streets of Pilger looking at the run down buildings, closed businesses, houses for sale, and the empty main street; it feels like all of the air has been let out of it, and it’s on it’s last breath. It feels like it’s dying.

Pilger is a small town in Northeast Nebraska with an ever decreasing population of 328 people. It’s your typical farm town; a gas station, a main street, a church, the grain elevator, a small park, and a big water tower. There’s one school serving 5th and 6th grades, there’s a brand new town swimming pool ,and a ball field. I guess that actually sounds like quite a lot of a population of 328.

The feeling is a bit eerie....

However it’s missing something crucial, there are no kids running around playing. The park is empty and the main business which is actually still open and running on main street seems to be the Senior Center. The population of Pilger is aging.

Why do I care about Pilger, Nebraska? It’s my parent’s home town – sort of. It’s actually the closest thing to a home town they have as they both grew up on farms about 3 miles outside of Pilger. But for them, Pilger was their ‘big city’. Back then it had a population of 537, and farmers from all around the area gathered there to conduct business, attend social functions, provide their kids an education, and of course to worship.

My parents went to high school in Pilger and had a graduating class of 11 people. My dad played sports there, and my mom was on the cheer squad. The school was brimming with excitement and life. However a number of years ago they moved the high school to a bigger town as there just were no longer enough students in Pilger to keep it running. Pilger now struggles to keep its grade school running. They split up the grades and share the overall schooling with neighboring towns

I found myself in Pilger recently visiting my aunt and took the opportunity to walk around it with my camera. I of course had a few locals stop me and ask me what I was doing…they don’t see strangers walking around with a big camera every day…or ever!

Photography from my Pilger wanderings

The cemetery on the edge of town seems to be getting bigger and the town seems to be getting smaller. The decreasing population in Pilger has left it with an empty feeling. As I walk around, it feels no different than a town in a foreign country. In fact the lack of energy in the town reminds me of villages in the Gobi Desert. I find the whole thought a little depressing as I see this small town farming culture disappearing in the US – right before my eyes. Is this happening to all small towns in America as the big farmers/companies/cities take over?

The tallest structure - the water tower

The remaining population of Pilger is gearing up for it’s 125th year anniversary in 2012 and my aunt is on the planning committee. I am hopeful my vision of the ‘old PIlger’ will come back to life; the main street full of people and pick-up trucks, a cake walk, and farmers walking around socializing. I have a hard time imagining it now, as I walk around the edges of town surrounded by corn fields. I can’t help but wonder how long it will take for the corn fields to eventually take over the town. All that will be left is the water tower and fuzzy memories.

If you ever find yourself in Northeast Nebraska – I suggest you stop in the small towns and have lunch at the local cafe – it will be a truly cultural experience you won’t forget. You’ll meet some really nice people and probably learn a little history too! Heck – you may even make it into the local paper! In all honestly – I find Northeast Nebraska’s rolling hills to be one of the most gorgeous landscapes I’ve encountered in the world. Yes, not all of Nebraska is flat plains!

Some links on Northeast Nebraska:
Northeast Nebraska History and Culture
Northeast Nebraska Travel Council

If you’d like to read more about small towns in America you can check out some of my other posts:
Farm-sitting – a Cultural Adventure in Owatonna
Corn and Cowboys – Mitchell, South Dakota
Sex in The City Small Town Style – Twin Brooks, South Dakota
Chasing Wabbits in Ozark, Arkansas

Tree near the cemetery

Photo of the Week – Manhattanhenge

admin — Fri, 04 Jun 2010 05:43:25 +0000

Apocalypse Now on 34th St – New York City

Two times a year the Sun God works it’s magic on Manhattan in a spectacle called Manhattanhenge. The rare occurance when the sun sets in exact alignment with the grid of streets in Manhattan. This 15 minutes of illumination on the cross streets of New York City provides an Apocalypse Now feeling with people shading there eyes, armed with their camera standing in the middle of 34th street trying to get the perfect photo. Last weekend, I was one of them trying to get the perfect sunset picture of the Empire State Building.

If you missed it, you’re in luck; the next Manhattenhenge is July 12th. Get that camera ready and grab some sunglasses!

You can read more on the spectacle of Manhattanhenge on Hayden Planetarium’s website.

Can’t get enough photo Friday? Then check out Briefcase to Backpack Photo Friday and Delicious Baby Photo Friday!

SmugMug.com – Serving up crisp, clear photos – without the side of Spam.

East Meets West in Aisle 5

admin — Wed, 19 May 2010 12:24:40 +0000

East.........Meets......

West

Remember the scrumptious green papaya salad you bought from the street vendor in Thailand? She asked you how spicy you wanted it and your cringed and said “Thai spicy” – knowing you may regret it later when you couldn’t feel your lips. When you came back to America, you decided to relive the experience so you went to the ‘best, most authentic’ Thai place in town and ordered the papaya salad. Utter disappointment.

After living in Vietnam for a year, now I’m back in America in search of good Asian food – but the search seems to be futile. It’s just not the same. The Pho is bland, the herbs are different, and it all seems to be ‘Americanized’ (the bigger the portions must equal better food).

I gave up searching for good Asian food, I decided that I would simply start making my own. I would channel my inner little Asian woman and fire up my wok and use excessive amounts of garlic and fish sauce – I would be cooking up Vietnamese feasts in no time!

The Asian section

With my first stop at the grocery store I hit a big roadblock. American grocery stores are very limited with Asian cooking supplies. It’s hard to believe that in the ginormous, wide aisles of an American grocery store they don’t have rice vermicelli noodles, lemon grass, or fish sauce in a bottle larger than 8 oz. However they have prepackaged boxes of Pad Thai…just add water…ugh.

Sure, some grocery stores carried some of the products I needed, but most of them carried none of the products I was looking for. In fact, in the small towns of the Midwest I couldn’t even find basil, mint, or ginger! I went down the ‘ethnic food aisle’ and was greeted by La Choy Chow Mein. I immediately had flashbacks of celery drenched in sweet and sour sauce served with crunchy noodles. Puke.

However my frustrations ceased the day my sister and I walked into Dragon Star Oriental Foods in St. Paul, Minnesota. We had heard there were ‘authentic’ Asian grocery stores in St. Paul, thanks to the large Hmong population in the area. We took our big grocery list and finally made a trip to go see if it was just a myth. My sister, who had spent the last 5 ½ years living in Singapore, was as frustrated as I was; we had low expectations of this St. Paul adventure.

We pulled up to the moderate sized building and were greeted by flags of various Asian nations…hmmm, that’s different. Then we walked inside, and just like that, I was a minority again. The aisles were filled with customers of various Asian decent. We took a little cart and our hopes gradually grew.

After going through the produce section and finding Asian eggplant, lemongrass, green papaya, Vietnamese mint, dragon fruit, and durian…yes, durian…I knew I was going to enjoy dinner tonight. Cyndi and I went down every aisle like giddy, young girls in the Barbie aisle of Toys R Us pointing at products, laughing, reminiscing, and salivating!

Saucy in the Sauce Aisle

It was as if I had walked through a black hole and ended up in this mixed up world of Asian food products with American-sized choices. Normally in Asia, you go to a local outdoor market and purchase your various sauces. There’s one choice and that’s what you buy. But in this East meets West grocery store we walked down aisles filled with Fish sauce…just Fish sauce; there must have been at least 25 different brands. All of them imported from Asia with words that I didn’t understand. The whole aisle of sauces (oyster, hoisan, fish…) was like walking down an American grocery store’s chip aisle. It was overwhelming.

The bizarre just kept coming. The butcher department seemed like any American grocery store; nice glass cases, refrigeration, organized. But then you looked closer and you saw the Asian twist; pig heads and cow feet. There was also plenty of live seafood swimming around.

On the flip side, these packed aisles of products didn’t include any cheese and about 3 choices for cereal. I sat and stared at the 3 cereals and just laughed. I had been living in Vietnam for a year and traveling through Asia for another year – as much as I love the place I needed a break from it. However like most things, you don’t realize how much you LOVE the place (or the person) until it’s gone. Standing here in the Americanized Asian market made me miss Asia terribly.

At one point I had déjà-vu as I was scouring the wafer aisle looking for my favorite coconut butter wafers. I used to do this every week in the An Phu supermarket as you were never guaranteed that they would get a constant inventory of a product there. Today, when I found my wafers, I squealed in joy…it was even the same brand I used to buy in Vietnam!

Cyndi displaying Frozen Bugs

We spent an hour going up and down every aisle. Taking pictures of the frozen bugs for sale in the freezer case, and reminiscing about our favorite curries and spring rolls. Then as we rounded the corner towards the checkout, we came to the bakery/deli. They had cooked food there to take home. I looked at the sign and it advertised a bubble tea and papaya salad special. They didn’t have hot dogs, pizza, or soda…just Asian choices…the things I would normally buy outdoors at a street vendor. Now there were here in the deli department!

My sister and I picked out some fresh sesame balls from the bakery case and happily pushed our overflowing cart to the checkout. We excitedly planned our dinner for the night – lemongrass chicken with stir-fried bok choy. I clutched my coconut butter wafers to my chest as we got in the car; I could hardly wait to open them up and taste the memories that were so vivid in my head. The trip to this Americanized Asian market was a chance for us to relive our love of Asia – and that was worth any price.

Hungry yet? If you want to read more about exotic foods – check out Wanderlust and Lipstick’s Wanderfood Wednesday!

Sleeping in History – Beaumont Inn

admin — Tue, 18 May 2010 06:39:57 +0000

History in Harrodsburg

Harrodsburg Kentucky may be small, but it’s loaded with character. In fact, it lays claim to being the ‘Oldest Town in Kentucky’. Their tourist board (yes, this little town of 8,000 people has it’s own tourist board) describes Harrodsburg as ‘bursting with historic charm’. They are absolutely right.

Main St.

The town itself has self-guided historic walks , an old Fort, civil war history, a nearby Shaker village. One of my favorite things about the pristine town was the old Southern style homes that had been preserved so well. The 8,000+ residents of Harrodsburg were proud of it’s history.

After spending the afternoon at the Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill on a photographic journey back in time, we drove into Harrodsburg to find a place to stay. With all of these old historic homes, we were looking to stay in a place that embodied that Southern architecture and spirit. We found the perfect match at the Beaumont Inn.

I had first heard of the Beaumont Inn from doing a Google search. After spending a few minutes on their website, I was won over immediately. After all, since much of my time is spent online in the blogsphere and social networking worlds, I was pleasantly surprised to see that this old Inn was modern in their technology. They are on Facebook, they have a blog, and their website is chock full of tourist information about Harrodsburg and the surrounding towns. In fact, it was their website that made me want to go to Harrodsburg.

Frankly my dear...

Intricate Lace

The Inn, circa 1845, was perched atop a rolling hill cradled by old trees which undoubtedly had seen many changes during their lifetime. The big white pillars and front porch won me over immediately. Nothing embodies the South like a front porch. I can’t help but have flashes of Scarlett O’Hara standing on the porch of Tara. As you walk inside you are transported further into history through the décor. The home was decorated with all of the old antique furniture even down to the detail of the lace curtains and the antique Cleopatra clock from the World’s Fair in 1893.

Going Up

The main hall is dominated by twin staircases leading to the rooms on the 2nd and 3rd floors. The rooms were spacious for an old home and had all been upgraded to accommodate the modern needs of travelers; air conditioning and wireless internet. They were all decorated in the antiques from the family’s collection. Of course the Inn served breakfast (included) every morning southern style. I enjoyed my cheese grits and corn griddlecakes immensely; after all, it was vacation – right?

On the main floor next to portraits of Robert. E. Lee were pamplets containing the complete history of the Inn. We grabbed one as we walked to the Old Owl Tavern which was connected to the Inn. They had happy hour drinks and appetizers so we sat on the outside porch, enjoyed our view, and read up on the history of the Inn.

Sitting Room

The Inn started it’s existence as a college for women. In fact, over the course of time, it changed hands many times, however from 1845 to 1914 it was utilized as a school. In 1918, it was turned into an Inn as it’s used today. The classrooms were converted into the dining room and the old carriage house was converted into the Tavern. Now that’s a lot of history to sleep in. It actually dubs itself as the oldest family owned and operated Inn in Kentucky; it was handed down for generations.

If you find yourself traveling through Bluegrass area of Kentucky, Harrodsburg and the Beaumont Inn should be your stopping place for the night. You can sleep in a little bit of history.

Shakin’ it up in Kentucky

admin — Thu, 13 May 2010 04:50:42 +0000

Shaker Chair

Back when I had furniture and lived a normal life working 9 to 5 everyday, I had an affinity to Shaker style furniture. My dining room set, as well as a number of little tables, were the shaker style; the simplicity and lines were always appealing to me. So when we had a few extra days in Kentucky after the derby, I searched the internet for cultural site-seeing and came across the Shaker Village in Pleasant Hill. I knew right away that I wanted to stop there.

A 'Family' Home

The Shakers were America’s largest and best known communal society in the 19th century. Their movement began in New York after the American Revolution and Shaker communities flourished from Maine to Kentucky. They were religious and peaceful, they believed in equality of race and sex, and they were celibate. I find this last fact pretty amazing considering their legacy lived for hundreds of years; thanks to lots of new converts.

However I can relate to the Shakers more than ever these days – unfortunately the celibacy is relatable, however what I really relate to is their quest for simplicity. They lived a simple life, it wasn’t showy, it wasn’t loud, it was just simple. They didn’t have a desire to have the biggest, the best or the most, they just kept their belongings very few and simple. As I look at my two suitcases I’ve been living out of for the last few years, I feel like I can relate.

The Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill is a tourist stop in Bluegrass country of Kentucky; about an hour’s drive from Louisville. Passing by horse farms and rolling hills, the village is located about 7 miles outside the historic town of Harrodsburg. The village was established in 1805 and thrived until the 1860’s when the industrial revolution began the community’s ultimate decline.

Village Water Tower

Today the village and buildings have been preserved and for an entrance fee of $15 for adults, you can roam around the village and see various demonstrations that will send you back in a time warp. The grounds were impeccable and all of the old shops were manned with actors demonstrating how the various crafts were made (barrels, rugs, boxes, and furniture). They also had demonstrations on the farming aspects of the village. When we were there they were sheering sheep.

In addition to viewing the demonstrations, seeing the layout of the old village, and viewing the gorgeous furniture, there is a functioning hotel and restaurant in the village. Of course the hotel rooms are all decorated in the Shaker style. I saw a few of them and they are huge and a good value for the size.

Sure, all of this history was fascinating, however my real interest lied in the grounds themselves. Armed with my camera this was one of my favorite places I’ve ever been to take photos. The Shaker style is all about simplicity; curves, lines, and symmetry. A perfect recipe for some great composition photography.

Lines

Curves

Symmetry

I was beside myself every time I walked into another building and was greeted by softly lit spiral staircases, beautiful chairs hanging from the shaker pegs, and symmetrical staircases and floorboards designs. This was a photographer’s dream. Even if you aren’t interested in the history of the village, if you are a photographer this place is definitely worth a stop. New photographers can really practice their composition of lines and curves, and seasoned photographers can play with the lights and shadows.

Needless to say – I took my share of photos.
Shaker Village Photos

Touring an old village with actors recreating life from the past isn’t for everyone; however, because I loved the Shaker style, it captured my interest level and I thoroughly enjoyed the day and would recommend it to anyone as a fun and educational stop.

Find more information about the Shaker Village of Pleasant Hill Kentucky at their website:

http://www.shakervillageky.org/

Traveling the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky

admin — Tue, 11 May 2010 05:45:44 +0000

Golden Goodness

There is only one spirit that America can claim, and that’s Bourbon. It was created here, and can only be made here in America – we’ve got the monopoly on Bourbon. On my recent trip to Kentucky, I learned that two important things come out of Kentucky – fast horses and bourbon. I luckily experienced both!

What IS bourbon? It’s a strong golden liquor used in one of my favorite drinks – the Manhattan. However, technically it’s Whiskey, but not every Whiskey can be called Bourbon. In order for a whiskey to be called Bourbon it has to be made from 51% corn and from the United States. Kentucky farmers started making bourbon to convert surplus grain because it was non-perishable and easy to store…and of course it tasted pretty good too! In addition, to be called Bourbon it must be aged in new charred white oak barrels, have no additional flavoring added, and be distilled for a minimum of 2 years.

Bourbon distilleries are found all over the Bluegrass region of Kentucky (Southeast of Louisville). It’s a wonderful, relaxing drive through rolling hills and little streams; unless of course you go when we did…when it was flooding! Regardless our tour driver was calm as can be and knew the back roads, navigating his way through high waters to get us to the bourbon.

Barrels of Distilling Bourbon

We stopped at Maker’s Mark Distillery nestled away in a little valley with a stream little bridges and paths around the property. Unfortunately it was an overflowing stream. Maker’s Mark is the nation’s oldest working distillery. It’s also the only distillery that does everything yet the traditional way; by hand. As with most businesses these days, automation has changed the production process, but Maker’s Mark still moves and turns the barrels the traditional way.

We walked through the whole distilling process learning about sour mash (the fermenting of grains), and the warehousing and turning of barrels for 6 years. Of course at the end of the tour of course we were all able to do tastings of the golden bourbon; it was quite the wake-up alarm at 11AM! Warm and toasty going down – however I will say that straight bourbon is an acquired taste.

I didn’t buy any bourbon, but instead got something better…all for free. I got a whole barrel of bourbon for Ottsworld! Some dream of seeing their name on Broadway, others…on a barrel. The marketing geniuses at Maker’s Mark came up with a great way to help promote the brand and promote brand loyalty; the Ambassador Program.

On each distilling barrel, a name, date, and other technical information goes on the end of the barrel on a barrel plate. They’ve decided to allow people to put their own name on a barrel (technically it’s shared among 30 people – so there are 30 names). I chose Ottsworld of course! Not only do you get your name on the barrel plate, but you also get updates on the aging of your particular barrel, can see pictures of it, have the opportunity to purchase a bottle from your barrel, and little business cards saying you are Maker’s Mark Ambassador. All a clever and fun way to get your email address and start building loyalty.

This low tech ‘traditional’ distillery sure has done a great job of going high tech for their Ambassador Barrel Program. They even have a Barrel Blog where you can meet and chat with the other 29 people on your barrel!

Bourbon Balls are good anytime!

As the rainy day went on and more and more roads were closed, we continued our bourbon day by having lunch in Bardstown at the Chapeze House, famous for their Kentucky based cuisine and many bourbon based dishes. Yes, bourbon isn’t just for drinking, it’s used in everything in Kentucky; syrup, bbq sauce, chocolate sauce, chocolate balls, and my personal favorite – bourbon flavored coffee.

We made a few more stops, along the Bourbon Trail which consists of the following Distilleries:
Buffalo Trace, Heaven Hill, Jim Beam, Wild Turkey, Woodford Reserve, Maker’s Mark, Tom Moore, and Four Roses

In fact, the Bourbon Trail even has a passport, which looks like a real passport and gets stamped at each distillery you visit. Once the passport is filled – and you are sufficiently drunk, you send it in and get a free Bourbon Trail t-shirt. I can assure you that the Bourbon Trail immigration agents are much nicer than the ones I encounter at the airport!

Special mention to Mint Julep tours who we used to tour the Bourbon Trail. They provide transportation and a guide from Louisville. See their website for more information. Of course you can also can book car hire and drive yourself around the Bourbon Trail.

Maker's Mark Grounds	Flooding in the basement of Distillery
A batch of Sour Mash	Bourbon Barrel Plates - Coming soon 'Ottsworld Barrel'!
Creating Bourbon!	The final product goes into my Mint Julep!

Some information provided by Budget Rental Car

Play Ball!

admin — Thu, 06 May 2010 11:53:24 +0000

Baseball Bats

If baseball is America’s game, then Louisville must be America’s city. Why? Because one of the best-known baseball products comes from Louisville; a long rounded piece of wood we call the baseball bat. The famous Louisville Slugger baseball bats are actually manufactured in downtown Louisville and it’s a great stop for those visiting the area.

Since I was in town for the Kentucky Derby , I was able to take in ALL of the sites that Louisville had to offer. If you sense sarcasm in that last sentence…well, you were correct. I honestly didn’t have high expectations for Louisville tourism. After all, I grew up in a town in Central Illinois that had many similarities in size and geography and their tourism was a joke.

I started researching Louisville on Twitter and found some great Louisville Twitterers that pointed me to some ‘must-see’ sites in and around Louisville. When I saw the Louisville Slugger Museum was located there my first thought was “Duh…of course – why didn’t I make that connection sooner?!” My second thought was , “I want to go there!”

I grew up playing a lot softball. I traveled all over Central Illinois playing on 3 different teams in the summers. It wasn’t just me who liked baseball, but it was my entire family. We’d make a family trip to St. Louis every summer to see a game at Busch Stadium, a highlight of our summer travel. We were Cardinals fans except for my sister who was in love with Johnny Bench and cheered for the Reds instead.

Museum Entrance

You can’t miss the Louisville Slugger Museum…mainly because there is a replica of a GIANT bat outside the building. The museum and factory is downtown, a somewhat unlikely place for a factory, but it was really convenient for tourism.

There was a small museum with old bats and various baseball memorabilia you could browse through. One of the highlights was an area where you could hold bats used by famous players. First you were required to put on little white cotton gloves, then a woman handed you Mickey Mantel’s baseball bat. There were four famous bats to choose from; my friend Kathleen chose Mickey’s bat, and I opted for Johnny Bench’s bat to hold. I figured this would make my sister insanely jealous! Yes, sibling taunting is still going on in my family.

The museum was interesting however for $10 you could also tour the factory and see how they make bats. They were doing a lot of production that day, so we decided to see how a tree ends up in the hands of A-Rod. Each year 40,000 Northern With Ash and Maple Trees supply the logs for Louisville Slugger bats. That seemed like a staggering number of trees, but when we found out 1.8 million bats are sold a year, it seemed to make sense.

Rows of bats waiting to be used

The factory was completely automated and what once was done by hand, the cutting/carving of the bat can be now completed in less than one minute. We were also able to see them making bats for professional players to match specific dimensions they keep in a big database. That day they were making bats for the Phillys.

In addition they were making pink dipped bats for Mother’s Day. Each major league player gets two pink bats to be used for games played on Mother’s Day and afterward the bats are signed and auctioned off proceeds benefitting the Susan G. Koman foundation.

The tour also included a short movie about professional baseball and the art of hitting featuring Derek Jeter, Johnny Bench and more. Finally, you could special order bats and have your name carved into them. Overall it was a great two hours of entertainment for $10.

If you go to the museum, be sure to take some extra time and go around the corner to see another art form, glass blowing at Glassworks . One of the most surprising things about Louisville to me was the art scene, and glass sculpture is one of the popular crafts in the area. Glassworks has a viewing area where you can watch local artists create their masterpieces.

Glassworks

Glass Horse

Glass Hats

Louisville was full of surprises to me and exceeded my expectations in many ways. The only downside is the lack of public transportation, so be sure to stay in a hotel downtown if you want to be near the main tourist attractions and museums, or plan on renting a car.

Now I’m ready to sit down with my box of Cracker Jacks on Mother’s Day and see Derek Jeter hold his pink bat which I watched being made in the factory!

Play Ball!

Downtown Louisville Attractions:

Louisville Slugger Museum
Muhammad Ali Museum
Glassworks
The Louisville Science Center

Mad Hatters – The Kentucky Derby

admin — Tue, 04 May 2010 04:52:10 +0000

Kentucky Derby Spectators - Like no other!

Where am I? From a fashion perspective, it looks like Park Ave., but there are no sky scrapers. A vendor walks by with 3 dozen mint juleps in his ‘Ice Box’ crate; I smell an odor of horses and cigars. For one brief day, this town is the queen of the fashion world and the King of the Sports world – ‘Mission Impazible’ achieved. This can only be the Kentucky Derby, one of the greatest sporting events of all times; where Devil Wears Prada meets ‘Devil May Care’.

One of the most fascinating things about the Kentucky Derby isn’t the race itself – but the culture of the Derby. It’s one of the only sporting events in the world in which you put on your best clothes to be a spectator. Think about it, do you see men in football stadiums wearing suits and hats? No. More than likely the only hat they have on their head is the kind that holds two cans of beer and a big straw or one that looks like a cheese wedge.

The Perfect KD Couple

Churchill Downs is filled with fashionable hats, shoes, and dresses. The women are dressed as if they are attending a royal wedding or a ‘Nobel’s Promise’. The men are also dressed in hats and summer suits. When you put those well-dressed men in colorful sear-sucker suits together with the women in wide brimmed hats and 4 inch stilettos, you have the perfect Kentucky Derby couple. Even Michael Kors would be impressed.

Horse Hat

The hats came in all shapes and sizes, all colors, and some even showed ‘Conveyance’ of the person’s love for horses. There were flowers, netting, ribbons, bows, and BIG bows. In my whole life I had never seen so many spectacular hats. Hat prices ranged from thousands of dollars to a handmade craft project (like my own glue gunned hat). An average hat cost around $300 in Kentucky and they all promptly went on a half price ‘Super Saver’ sale the day after the Derby.

All afternoon refined spectators in the stands drink mint juleps, and read the racing programs trying to figure out who will be the ‘Stately Victor’ of the big race. Friends gather and talk between races, and eat their boxed lunches in their boxed seats.

Life in the stands

Life in the Infield

However life in the stands and life in the infield (the center of the track) is like comparing an ’American Lion’ to ‘Dean’s Kitten’ – it is an exercise in contrasts. The infield is where the sloppy, less refined partying happens. The tickets are cheaper and so are the clothes. The stands also have their share of partying, but in a sophisticated manner…until it hits 3PM. Then those refined spectators turn into ‘Homeboy Kris’; rowdy, drunk, and a bit sloppy teetering on 4 inch stilettos!

We arrived at out spectacular box seats in the stands around 11AM amidst very grey skies; we were certainly not ‘Lookin At Lucky’ weather for the day. We came prepared with ponchos and flip flops; still trying to keep our fashion sense by wearing our hats and fancy dresses.

One hour later we found ourselves being pelted with rain and gale force winds. We secured our hats, and dawned our ponchos, but even our rain gear couldn’t stop the miserable weather from getting to us. Hours melted away…and with each hour my hat fell a little more apart. However in this time of sogginess, all I could think about was how Vietnam’s rainy season had prepared me for this; I knew that I would not melt. My hat might melt, but my body wouldn’t!

Skies Begin to Clear

After 7 hrs of battling Mother Nature, it was finally time for race 11 – the reason why we were all here; to see the run for the roses. First, I had to place my bets – should I go with ‘Paddy O’Prada’, ‘Jackson Bend’, ‘Discretely Mine’, or ‘Back Talk’? Of should I put all my money on ‘Line of David’? After all, I have a friend named David. In the end I decided to stick with what I know – travel. I cleverly placed my bet for an international theme and chose ‘Dublin’ to win.

By some ‘Awesome Act’ of God…once we all stood up and sang Old Kentucky Home the sun blasted through the clouds, and rays of light shined down upon Churchill Downs. It was as if NBC had paid for this to happen. Or the big rain clouds were simply negotiating by saying ‘Make Music For Me’ and we will cooperate.

And they were off….

Super Saver Wins!

The crowd came alive jumping up and down as if ‘Sydney’s Candy’ were being thrown into a crowd of children! There were screams, hands waving, jumping, and even some praying.

In the end…my travel bet didn’t pay off. However, my trip to the derby did pay off big – mainly in the form of photography.

*if you haven’t figured it out by now – the bolded names are the 20 horses that ran in the Kentucky Derby!

Photography from the Derby:

Photo of the Week – Monument Valley Utah

admin — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 05:08:17 +0000

Monumental Road – Utah, USA

Spring is in the air in the US. It’s time to start thinking about summer road trips! The National Parks in the Utah/Arizona area are abundant; however I like to find some of the ones off the beaten path and Monument Valley in Utah is one of those. This Navajo Indian Park was my favorite in my road trip across America. Massive rock formations that seem to come out of nowhere.

It is located on the southern border of Utah with northern Arizona, near the Four Corners area. The valley lies within the range of the Navajo Nation Reservation, and is accessible from U.S. Highway 163.

Monument Valley is part of the Grand Circle, which includes popular National Parks such as the Grand Canyon, Mesa Verde, Bryce Canyon, Zion Canyon, Capitol Reef, Natural Bridges Monument, Hovenweep, and Arches National Park. I saw most of these on my US Road Trip in 2008 and they are all worth a stop!

Want to see more Travel Photography? View my National Parks Photography or check out Briefcase to Backpack’s Photo Friday!

Farm-sitting: A Cultural Adventure in Owatonna

admin — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 05:05:39 +0000

I'm definitely not in the city any more....

“Remember – you have the bigger brain” – these words of instruction provided to me echoed thru my mind. It was my mantra as I went out to feed the horses for the first time. I know very little about horses, except that they are much bigger than me; but apparently their brain isn’t. A few days earlier Amy had taken me for a test run of the farm chores; showing me how to feed the chickens, gather eggs, call for the horses, feed them separately and give them the right mix of food. Now, on my own for the first time, the horses seemed much larger than before. I thought I would ease into the horses by checking on the chickens first. They seemed easier…and much smaller.

My latest house-sitting gig has landed me on a farm. It’s really a hobby farm (so I’m not taking care of livestock or driving a tractor – yet that does sounds like fun for a few days!) The farm is home to 3 horses, a couple dozen chickens, 5 or 6 cats, and 1 big dog that is more of an uncoordinated rag doll than a dog! All of this fur meant that I was downing my allergy pills with gusto!

The chickens produced more eggs than I could ever imagine eating. However, I tried my best. I went to the Incredible Edible Egg website a and found egg recipes for every occasion. I made omelets, custard, egg salad, and quiche and didn’t even make a dent in the egg inventory in the fridge! However I’m pretty sure my cholesterol skyrocketed.

The horses were great at first, but I think they quickly figured out that I was a newbie and tried to debunk my bigger brain theory. They clearly wanted to be in control. I also believe they were secretly laughing at me every time I tried to hoist the hay bale up into the feeder and ended up with hay in my hair and down my shirt. Farming was never my strong point; however I did learn to check which way the wind was blowing before hoisting the hay – a lesson I learned the hard way.

I told myself taking care of horses would prepare me in some way for my upcoming trip to the Kentucky Derby on May 1st. In fact, one of the horses, appropriately named Bourbon, was the grandson to a horse who raced in the Derby. I felt like this was my chance to bond with Derby History!

The famous Bank Building

I decided to embrace this farm-sitting gig and treat it as a Midwest cultural trip. The small town was a new place to explore and try to understand culturally. At first glance, Owatonna , Minnesota is merely an exit along I35 in the shadow of the giant Cabellas store; or at least that’s what I thought. I was actually able to find a lot of character in Owatonna making it worth a stop on your way to/from Minneapolis!

I first visited Mineral Springs Park and went for a run along the trickling stream and golf course. The park was pristine with a well maintained trail, historical markers/plaques along the route, and everyone I passed said hello to me – adults and kids.

Next I drove in to the town square. Every small town in the Midwest will have an old town square. It didn’t take me long to find Main street which led me right into the center of town. I had heard that there were a few ‘must see’ sites in Owatonna and they were all around Central Park…that is, Central Park of Owatonna.

Huge Stained Glass Window

Central Park wasn’t surrounded by sky scrapers, but it was surrounded by history. The cornerstone to Owatonna is the National Farmers’ Bank Building. You’ll notice it right away, a brick block like building with ornate green trim. When you enter the bank, the keyhole entry opens into a huge, expansive lobby bathed in greens and golds. Massive half circle stained glass windows and a skylight allow in natural light and flood the large lobby with color. There are terra cotta chandeliers each weighing 2 ¼ tons. An ornate terra cotta sculptured clock sits over the tellers. The building is currently owned by Wells Fargo today and you are allowed to take as many pictures as you want! The architect, Louis H. Sullivan exemplified monumental simplicity of form combined with intricate complexity of ornament.

The 2nd most popular site in town was my personal favorite; mainly because it was all about chocolate! Across from the bank sits the Costa Diner; in operation for 90 years. A typical small town diner, however it has something that makes it unique…truffles.

Truffle Yumminess!

This diner not only serves up coffee, but it also makes homemade chocolate truffles, butter creams, caramels, and nut concoctions. It was started by Greek immigrants in 1919 and is still featuring the same family recipes and equipment. This explains the great old neon sign outside.

The colorful chocolate display case draws you in, but it’s the smell that ultimately makes you buy. The whole place smells like chocolate decadence! I also highly recommend stopping and having lunch there – the Greek salad and Gyro is great. Then follow that with a colorful wrapped truffle…or two…or three…

The bank building and Costas were sites I had heard about, but I decided to explore a bit more and it didn’t take me long to find something just as interesting that wasn’t written about. As I walked thru the main streets and past shops and restaurants, I finally noticed them…the old, antique signs. There weren’t many, but the few that had survived over time were classic. It reminded me of something you’d see along Route 66.

The sun as setting and I had to get back to the farm to do my evening chores! The chickens, horses, cats and dog were waiting for me no doubt; a farmer’s work is never done. My farm adventure in small town Minnesota yielded some great photographic results; I really couldn’t ask for anything more…except for maybe another truffle.

View Owatonna photography

Walking on Water – Minnesota

admin — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 05:12:19 +0000

The warning didn't stop me from walking out and taking the photo!

I used to go running around Lake Harriet in Minneapolis, Minnesota 5 mornings a week – no matter how cold it was. I was one of those crazy runners who never let winter stop me, even if my eyelashes were coated in icicles; in Minnesota winter is a fact of life. Winters around the lake at 6AM were quiet, very quiet. It was me and the ice fishermen watching the sun come up. As I would run the perimeter trail, I gazed out on the lake at the little fishing huts and think, “Who in their right minds would go out there and FISH at this hour in the cold?!”

Then I realized they were thinking, “Who in their right minds would go out and RUN at this hour in the cold?!”

That was the point where I started respecting the ice fisherman – we were the same.

Since I’ve been back in the US for the holidays I’ve been spending time house sitting in Minneapolis. One of the houses I sat was right on one of the many large lakes in the area. I sat inside by the warm fire writing and blogging all day, but would find myself peering out the window at all of the trucks, snow mobiles, and ice huts on the lake. It was like a small town out in the middle of the lake.

Frozen Lake Road

I decided it was finally time I go out and meet some of these comrades. I armed myself with my camera, put on my boots, and prepared to walk on water.

The first step was the hardest. I stood at the ‘shore-line’ and gingerly took a step onto the ice, as if I were dipping a toe in the water to see how cold it was. However there was no water, it was solid ice. As I took a few steps, my stomach was churning with butterflies. My ears were perked up trying to listen for sounds of cracking ice; there was only silence. I’m not real sure what I was so nervous about, there were ½ ton trucks parked out in the middle of the lake on the ice as if it were a mall parking lot; yet nerves still plagued me. I slowly built confidence that the ground beneath me was solid, and I went tramping out into the middle of the lake.

I must admit, once I got away from shore a ways – it was invigorating; knowing that I was walking on water, standing out in the middle of the lake was exciting. I took pictures of the completely flat snowy landscape and enjoyed the unique perspective my location provided me.

Ice Fisherman

I walked out to the nearest fishermen; two men with a big old truck parked on the ice. I could hear the radio playing in the truck as all the doors were open. It was a nice day, so they didn’t have an ice house, they simply sat out on little chairs over their hole in the ice smoking cigarettes. You could tell they were a bit confused as to why some chick with a camera was walking out to see them – but in true Minnesota fashion they welcomed me warmly. I told them that I had never seen ice fishing before which of course brought up the inevitable question, “Where are you from?” I paused and said, “Well the last place I lived was Vietnam, but currently I’m house sitting over there.(pointing to the shore)”

From that point on we got along great. It was an uncle and nephew spending the afternoon out on the ice together. They were eager to show me their equipment and even tried to show me how to read the depth finder (who knew that ice fishing was high tech?!) While I was there hanging out with them, they caught a few fish. I was the fishing paparazzi taking pictures of their catch. But then they did something that surprised me; they threw the fish back in. What?! You sit out in the cold for hours and then throw fish back?? They told me it was too small. I told them there is no fish ‘too small’ in Vietnam.; the Vietnamese would have had that fish for dinner.

Everything you need...

In the Northern US (Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan, and South Dakota) winter does not phase the locals. It’s a part of life – similar to the Vietnamese and rainy season. There are many winter hobbies people are involved in and ice fishing is just one of them. However it’s one of the most popular.

It doesn’t require much investment in equipment if you want to give it a try; it can cost as little as $15. Get a tip-up rod, anglers, lines, bait, and tackle, and get a little chair to sit on! For longer fishing excursions you can get a ice house/shanty which can be as simple or elegant as you want. I personally think that an ice shanty is a 2nd home for some men! Oh yes – you’ll also need an ice saw or auger that will cut a hole in the ice, as well as a skimmer to clear the slush out of the hole. Finally, you need a lot of patience, but that’s free.

The question is why do people do it? Most people say that it’s relaxing; it gives them time to think, or hang out with friends. I have to agree – it’s certainly better than sitting inside all winter waiting for the snow to melt! Plus, you may just catch dinner!

To learn more about ice fishing – check out How to Ice Fish on ehow.com

Re-entry Lobotomy: Retraining My Brain

admin — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 05:07:23 +0000

It's good to be home...I think...

As I drove the car slowly down the road getting used to all of its high tech gadgets I noticed a truck pulled over on the side of the road. There was no one coming in the oncoming lane, so I swung out to provide the truck ample room as I passed it. For one brief second, my brain told my hand to look for the horn and give a little beep letting the truck know I was passing. Just a friendly gesture so that he didn’t pull out in front of me. In that split second, I thought about the horn, started searching for where it was, and then realized where I was. I was in America; people don’t use their horns to say, “Hey, I’m going around you, just wanted to let you know I’m here.” Instead, the horn would‘ve scared the person in the truck and left them wondering why I was such an asshole for beeping my horn at them when they had done nothing wrong.

I’ve been back in the US for 4 months and each week I still go through some sort of episode like this – where I forget where I am, or disgusted by television, or dumbfounded in a grocery store. The fact is that even though I only lived in the Vietnam for a year, I’ve really been out of a traditional existence in the US for over 3 ½ years. It’s as if I’ve had a lobotomy; American culture is foreign. The images and sounds rattle around in my head trying to find a compartment it belongs in, but the compartment is gone – it packed up and left to make room for chopsticks, motorbikes, and ladies in pointed hats selling produce on the streets.

Since arriving back in the US, I’ve been keeping track of the areas that tend to put me on the brink of mental breakdown. When I encounter these areas, my brain can’t even fathom or understand what I’m seeing/hearing.

This one or this one…or this one? Choices

Grocery Stores- Choice overload

America – the land of choice. I love my freedom to choose, but when it comes to re-entry, it is overwhelming to the point of paralyzing. Take one step into the wide aisles of an American grocery store and you may be lost for a while; in a sea of choices. In Asia I was simply happy if I could find a bag of tortilla chips. In America there’s half an aisle dedicated to tortilla chips; corn, white corn, organically grown corn, bite size, restaurant size, scoopable size – is this really necessary? There’s 3 different kinds of ground beef, 8 kinds of salsa, 10 kinds of milk, and at least 25 yogurt flavors. Low fat, lite, lactose free, gluten free, 80% lean, no fat, no msg, – less is more when it comes to labeling. I wish we could adopt a less is more when it comes to our choices too…but that would be very un-American and would never work in this land of abundance.

Television:

I barely watched television for the last 3 ½ years. It was nice to know that I could live without it. When I arrived back I was watching a football game with my parents when the broadcast was interrupted for a special news report. Tiger Woods had been in a car accident. I thought – who cares. Then I was basically forced to watch Tiger Woods’ demise over the next days, weeks, and months to come. He became the most reported news story everywhere you looked. I imagined the news outlets to be piranhas that had been starving for the last month – it was a Tiger Woods feeding frenzy. I guess it’s really the people who are the piranhas though…Americans love this stuff; they can’t get enough. My reaction was still – who cares. Well, apparently Americans care – and so would have I a few years back.

I also noticed talk shows have all morphed into a game show in some way. It’s as if Donahue mated with Price is Right. I mean really, who wouldn’t love Ellen or Oprah – they give away thousands of dollars on their shows to audience members or people who’ve written them letters. Wow – if I could do that on my blog I’m pretty damn sure everyone would love me. Instead I have to actually work to get people to like me based on my writing, charm, and social skills!

The Speed of America:

Everything here has to be fast. I was in a public restroom at a bookstore and found myself laughing at the hand dryer – the Xcelerator. It dries your hands super fast with a powerful blast of air. I guess you need to dry your hands super fast so that you can keep moving and shopping; slowing down is death in America. Even the mundane things in our lives are supposed to be fast. No wonder why we are all burned out.

One thing I have had a hard time getting used to is the speed of cars. They aren’t necessarily any faster then when I left America, but they are infinitely faster than cars in Vietnam. In Saigon the average speed of a car or motorbike was about 20 mph. My brain got used to seeing a car or motorbike in the distance and calculating the time I had to maneuver in front of them and still be safe. However, after being nearly run over a few times as I was crossing the street in NYC I realized that I needed re-train my brain on the speed of American traffic. I’ve been beeped at more than once as I stepped out to cross the street thinking I had enough time to cross, but clearly didn’t as the car was hurdling toward me at 40 mph!

Much to my friend’s disapproval, I still haven’t set up my voice mail in the US because I don’t really understand the need for it any longer. Sure, when I arrived in Vietnam I thought it was strange that no one had voice mail, but eventually that became the norm and now I see no reason for it either. If you want to leave a message, then text me…simple.

These were just some of the things which made my brain hurt upon re-entry – if you want to know how to deal with them then consider reading Lisa Lubin’s list of Re-entry Dos and Don’ts over at Briefcase to Backpack.

However even though these things give me a headache, I have to admit, my favorite thing about leaving America is this re-entry stage upon coming back. There’s no better way to see and understand your culture than by leaving it for a while. Coming back you see the familiar as exotic and the exotic as familiar.

Leave a comment and share your re-entry lobotomy experiences! What things ‘stand out’ to you when you arrive home? How long does it take you to get over the re-entry lobotomy?

Photo of the Day – California

admin — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 14:52:42 +0000

Rock Hard Love
San Francisco, California

Considering Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, I thought I’d try to embrace it this year. Hell, if a love can find it’s way into a rock, then maybe there’s hope for me!

View other San Francisco Photography

My Foreign Christmas

admin — Sat, 26 Dec 2009 05:55:17 +0000

A White Christmas Indeed!

This Christmas was shaping up to be one of my favorites. After living abroad alone last year, I had planned to spend Christmas with my mom and dad in South Dakota. My whole family is spread out in the Midwest and it rarely happens that we are all in the same place due to my vagabond travels and my sister’s family living overseas. However, this year all good fortunes aligned allowing my sister and family (who just moved back to the US) and my brother’s family to join us in South Dakota! I LOVE Christmas, and I really love being around my family for Christmas – so this was a treat of epic proportions for me amplified by the fact that I had been away for the last 15 months.

However, Mother Nature had other plans…

Me in the snow...

As early as Tuesday it started – the 24/7 coverage of the ‘approaching storm’ in the Midwest plains; my ground zero. One thing I’ve been amazed at since arriving back in the US for the holidays is American’s addiction to weather. It’s weather overload for me, Doppler this – Storm Tracker that…I stare in amazement at the television screen wondering how people can live their life when they are so concerned with the weather?!

At first on Tuesday I didn’t believe it, by Wednesday I was in denial, by Thursday I was starting to accept, and by Friday morning – I knew it wouldn’t happen…no one would make it here for the holidays. The blizzard did indeed arrive, just like the Storm Tracker Radar said it would.

Snow and wind is a terrible combination for the plains where there is little to impede the wind’s wrath and power. Silently my mom, dad, and I all were a bit saddened by the situation as we were all looking forward to having a house full of people, nieces running around, games, food, drink, and more food. But as we looked at our huge platter of homemade cinnamon rolls, dozens of freshly baked cookies, 12 pounds of prime rib; the three of us knew that we were on our own. The TV informed us the main interstate in South Dakota was to be closed the whole day. The state had officially come to a stand still; outside visitors were turned away and we all settled in for a small, quiet, snowy Christmas.

As a family we had decided to only get gifts for the kids – no adults would exchange gifts (at least not anything major), so we looked at our little tree and each had one gift beneath it to exchange. I had brought my parents back some small trinkets back from Asia. Small trinkets are great – but when they are your only gifts…it’s kind of pathetic. In the same vain, I opened up my gift from my mom; a Snuggie. I could write a whole post on that lovely piece of American culture on it’s own. The Snuggie – the blanket that has sleeves…only in America.

The whole situation was a bit sad to me. I sulked at first. I was shut in a house getting buried by the wind and snow. Sulking gets you nowhere though, it’s wasted time. Then I decided to treat the situation like any other travel adventure I had been on for the last 3 years – I would treat it as a cultural scene that others in the world might like to see. I got out my camera.

Sometimes it’s hard to see our everyday lives as different and unique. The truth is, I have a hard time being inspired by my own culture, let alone my family. But today I wanted to try to see it thru the eyes of a visiting culture. A visiting foreigner would surely want to go outside and play in the snow, no matter how cold and windy it was. They would want to try all of the unique food. They would also be amazed by the incessant television weather coverage. They would be intrigued by the Snuggie blanket. They would be fascinated by our culture; especially during one of the most important and celebrated festivals of the year. It wouldn’t matter to them if there was 3 of us, or if there was my whole extended family here; they would like it anyway.

Green Bean Casserole

After I started looking at the situation as a foreigner, it became interesting to me. Even the foods became interesting. Really, what other culture eats casserole? Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup is a staple in our cupboard along with cheese whiz. That alone could be compared to Durian in Asia or eating insects – people would most likely wonder why we would eat such lifeless food out of cans and jars.

I made my parents come out and play in the snow, we drank Peppermint Patty’s (hot chocolate + Peppermint Schnapps), and ate from our big platter of decorated sugar cookies. Surprisingly, the day turned out ok. I even got in my Snuggie and watched the movie Christmas Story on television conveniently showing for 24 hours back to back. After all, in America, you can never have too much of a good thing.

Fun is not always evident, but sometimes all you need is a new set of eyes; a new perspective.

View all of the photos from the Christmas Blizzard!

Video of the road conditions!

Midwestern Round-Up

Sherry — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 17:00:33 +0000

Midwest Sunset

For the ‘best of’ my summer photography – click here!

I can’t believe it’s been 2 months. This is the longest I’ve spent in the Midwest in a long, long time. To top that off, it’s the longest I’ve stayed with family since I moved out at 18 years old. These two months have been all about reconnecting; reconnecting with a part of the country and the people that molded me and made me what I am today; good or bad.

Like most of my foreign travel, my experiences here were full of variety; fun times, disturbing revelations, ‘first’ experiences, eye opening discoveries, and some things just left me baffled. Many times I wondered if I was in a foreign country as my cell phone rarely worked (don’t let TMobile tell you they have complete coverage in the US, TMobile has NEVER set foot in South Dakota!) I even contracted foreign ailments; a bad case of poison ivy! As with most countries that I spend a significant amount of time in, I decided to treat the Midwest with a recap of my experiences. Even though it is the US, there are things that make the Midwest unique.

Road Shows:
There’s something to be said for variety. As an Aquarius, I love variety and change; so my summer of random traveling road shows was perfect. I had the pleasure of going to a traveling strip show, a circus, and a rodeo. I wish they could have figured out a way to combine these all into one; a traveling circus with rodeo performers that stripped…intriguing. They certainly would have saved money on gas costs if they all could have traveled together! The shows came to us, this small town community of Lutherans, all we had to do was buy a ticket and show up. I think the traveling Male Revue strip show was by far my favorite. Not because the men were hot and the mood sexy; it was far from that. It was the quirkiness of the experience within the setting of a very small Lutheran town. It made me realize that even in small towns; you have all kind of people with all kinds of preferences; there are even single people. Albeit divorced and widowed, but they are still considered single!

Food – or lack of it:
The most stressful part of my time in the Midwest was not the constant severe storms that rolled through on a daily basis; it was grocery shopping. I had multiple melt downs in the Milbank grocery store when produce clerks looked at me as if I were crazy when I asked for fresh basil. The people at the store knew what Dopler Radar was and the intricacies of how it worked, but they had no idea what pine nuts were and why anyone would want them. I love cooking. I especially love cooking Asian food, but the ethnic food aisles were humorous at best and I eventually gave up and stuck to brats, burgers, and pork. However, for fun I started collecting a list of items that I could never find in the small town grocery stores around the Midwest.
Fresh Basil, Fresh mint, Fresh Thyme (I think you get the picture…there are no fresh herbs), goat cheese, buffalo mozzarella cheese, baguettes (or any kind of crusty bread), pine nuts, curry paste, pad thai noodles, rice vinegar, arugala, baby corn, shallots, and Italian sausage.
I think the people in the grocery store came to dislike me after a while. I felt like when they saw me walking into the store, the manager would come over the loud speaker and say…”She’s back….” and everyone would run and hide!

Going for the Gold
Thanks to the copious amounts of food and ice cream I consumed, I had to try to keep up with my expanding waist line (it was a losing battle ultimately), so I would go out and run. As soon as I set out on a mile road (the term for how the Midwestern countryside is carved up into square mile sections with dirt road perimeters), people knew that I wasn’t from around here. I ran on a square mile section that surrounded my parents place; equating to a 4 mile run on the flat, treeless, gravel road. It was 2 weeks before I ever even saw a car pass me. When the car did pass me, I imagined how I would end up as dinner conversation later that night as the farmer told his family about this stranger who was running on county road G. Seeing someone out running on these roads was an oddity, deer were much more common than someone wearing a jog bra and an ipod! I had my share of animal encounters while I was running out in the middle of nowhere; deer, fox, and even a jack rabbit crossed my path. I startled them and they startled me. The highlight of my Midwest running came when my sister convinced me to enter a local small town 10k race. I told her that I wasn’t in shape to run it, but a change of scenery on my run would be nice as this race was in town and not on the animal-filled mile roads. The race field was small, about 200 people and I walked to the start line with the guy carrying the ‘official clock’, a digital timer, and the starting gun was someone saying “on your marks, get set, GO!”. It was refreshing to participate in such a well organized, simple race. But the best thing about small town races is that I am actually above average in a field like this! I walked away with a bronze medal for finishing 3rd in my age division and finished 25th overall. Beijing, here I come! If you want to feel fit, just enter races in small towns, it’s a great ego boost!

The Red, White, and Blue
One of the things that stuck out to me about being back in the Midwest was the patriotism. I don’t think I’ve been exposed to this much patriotism since 1976 – the centennial year when I collected every quarter I could find. It seemed as if every event I attended had an ‘over-the-top’ patriotic tribute. New York City is a patriotic town when it wants to be, but the Midwest has patriotism oozing out of its pores. At the rodeo, we didn’t just sing the national anthem, instead the announcer had a huge speech about what the good ole’ red, white and blue meant to him. At the circus, an array of fit performers from everywhere BUT the United States paraded out to patriotic music and dressed in every gaudy red, white and blue sequin outfit they could find. Finally, the small town parade that I attended had more American themed floats than marching bands.
Click to enlarge images:

Fields of Green
This is the land of the vast fields of wheat, hay, corn, and beans; miles and miles of manicured rows. Across the highway from my parent’s house, I saw the corn grow from water soaked stalks to golden tassels (a sign that I have clearly spent too much time here!). As I drove all over South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Nebraska this summer, I watched the crops blow in the strong winds that whipped across the flat prairie unhindered by trees or obstructions. It looked like the ocean to me, waves of wheat undulating in the wind, it was soothing. The Midwest may be landlocked, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t waves. I was lucky enough to actually get up close and personal with some of the crops. In Nebraska, my uncle took me out to a sweet corn field where I met the farmer. I learned about irrigation, sweet corn vs. field corn, raccoons, electric fences, the proper way to shuck an ear of corn, and harvesting. I also learned that when sweet corn is really good and ready, you can actually eat it without cooking it…just right off the cob; which I tried of course! As I drove back to South Dakota that day, I stared at those corn fields. I squinted my eyes a bit causing the image to become a blurry image of green. I imagined little pointy hats out there, in fields of green rice. I started daydreaming about what my life was going to be like in a month when I moved to Vietnam, what adventures and new experiences I may encounter as I change environments and countries once again. I thought to myself that farming is farming – in any part of the world; a comforting feeling as I prepared for change.

As I sit here and write this, my dad is reading the paper and informing me of all of the activities that I will be missing since I am leaving tomorrow. The wedding dance on Aug. 9th (open to all of course), the threshing show and tractor pull on Aug. 16th, the tractor parade and polka dance on Aug. 17th, and the ranch rodeo on Aug. 10th. He just informed me that the ranch rodeo has a wild cow milking contest…now we’re talkin’! I would about consider changing my flight plans to see locals milk wild cows!!! New York night life and sushi vs. wild cow milking…a hard decision.

Ah, but you have to leave sometime, and it is my time to bid the Midwest goodbye. It was a great summer for many reasons, but the best thing about the summer was spending time with my family. It’s hard saying goodbye again for 1 ½ years, but time goes fast and I know I will be back to this foreign land, enjoying everything it has to offer, including the warmth and support of family.
A family montage. I’m only missing a picture of my sister-in-law…else this is it…the Ott clan. Click to enlarge:

Photo: My sister, brother, and I

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Traveling Circus – An Endangered Species

Sherry — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 22:58:43 +0000

Elephant Raising the Big Top

To view the “best of” South Dakota photography click here!

To view all snapshots of the circus – click here!

As a kid, I never saw a circus. I skipped right from playing circus games/acts with my older brother in our front yard (which landed me in the emergency room), straight to Vegas and seeing Cirque de Soleil performances. I never saw a ‘real’ circus, the kind with a big top, elephants, trapeze families, and clowns…until this summer in the Midwest.

I saw a poster in the Milbank grocery store about a traveling circus that was showing up in my parent’s town in a week. When you are living in a small town (even if it is temporary), you are aching for something interesting to happen. So when I saw the poster, I decided that this was it…entertainment at last! The paper had a story about the traveling circus and I found out that the Carson & Barnes traveling circus was the only one of their kind. The traveling circus is a dieing breed; it should be put on the ‘endangered entertainment list’. The Carson & Barnes circus is one of the last big tops traveling the country. The paper also stated that if anyone wanted to see the big top raised, you could show up at the grounds at 8AM to see the elephants raise the tent. It seemed like a great photo op, so I bought my tickets and cleaned off my lenses.

My dad and I went into town early at 8AM to go watch the activity. Little did we know that we would actually get involved in the activity. As we were watching the circus crew set up everything, a man came over and asked my dad for some assistance in finding a local machine shop as they needed to do a trapeze repair. As my dad ran off to assist, after all the show must go on, (and after all, I couldn’t write a post about the circus without using that line…sorry), I stuck around and photographed the raising of the big top.

It was quite an operation to watch as hundreds of workers plus one elephant raise a tent next to the corn field on the outside of town. This process took over 4 hours in all to go from a flat tent to a functioning big top. I talked to one of the workers and found out that as soon as the show ends tonight, they pull it all down and get on the road again the next day at 5AM to do the exact same thing in another town…day after day. This is a job that took patience for repetitive tasks that I would never have. Note to self…never run away and join the circus; no matter how desperate I am to find a job.

We took my 3 nieces to the circus later that evening; they had never seen a real 3 ring circus either. It was an international affair as all of the performers were from other countries and most had been with the circus for generations. As I watched various families perform death defying acts high above the ground with no nets, I looked around at the small crowd and wondered…how many years does this big top have left?

It was a good show overall and I think the small town of Milbank was thoroughly entertained as well as myself. The performances received plenty of ooh’s and ahh’s. I felt as if I had stepped back in time to a life before cable tv and video games. Early the next morning, the many, many trucks loaded with animals and tents took off leaving no trace and ready to do it all over again a hundred miles down the road.

Corn and Cowboys

Sherry — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 20:55:53 +0000

Holding on Tightly

To see the ‘best of’ photography from South Dakota – click here!
To see snapshots from the Rodeo, click here!

One day left on my South Dakota family vacation. I survived two days of road tripping with my parents, and so far I concluded that I may need therapy after this. We decided to finish off our South Dakota extravaganza by getting in some exercise, some oddities, and some cowboys.

I convinced my parents to hike to the tallest peak in South Dakota, Harney Peak, standing at 7,242 ft high. Sure, this altitude isn’t anything mind blowing, after all, it is South Dakota, not Colorado. However, I was proud of my parents (both 72 yrs old) for being in shape and still able to do a 4 hour moderately difficult hike. Granted, I think my mom was about ready to kill me by the time we got back to the parking lot, but the important thing is that she made it!

We bid goodbye to the Western edge of South Dakota, land of patriotic stone carvings and buffalo, and took off towards the royalty of the Midwest; the Corn Palace of Mitchell South Dakota! Driving into Mitchell was a bit reminiscent of entering Disneyworld; driving down main street, getting a first glimpse of castle spires with flags blowing in the wind…and thousands upon thousands of pieces of corn. Is this a fairy tale? A bad dream? Or is Johnny Depp going to walk out of the front door in a Willie Wonka meets Edward Scissorhands outfit?

Photo: Look closely – those are really corn cobs!
Yes, there is really such a thing as a corn palace, and yes, it is made primarily of corn. No, it is not in Nebraska. It was erected in 1892 as a tribute to the agricultural heritage of South Dakota. Throughout the century, it has changed a bit and became more of a solid structure/event hall that houses murals and spires made of corn, and it hosts any concerts and sporting events in Mitchell. The original palace was primarily erected from corn and the corn byproducts (stalks, etc). Besides the joy of saying that you went to the Corn Palace, I can’t say that there’s much more to it than that. We went inside and toured the hall which had more corn murals inside, a large gift shop of everything corn (of course), a video of the history, and pictures of every corn palace from 1892 to the present.

Photo: Troy – this is how it’s done…
However, the real reason why I was actually excited to be in Mitchell South Dakota was because the rodeo was in town. Even though I’m a Midwesterner by birth, the closest I ever came to a rodeo was when my brother would chase me down, and flip me over on the ground, pull out a rope and calf tie me (2 legs and one arm), throwing his arms up in the air when he was done as if someone were timing him. There are truly not many things more humiliating than laying there tied up like a cow as your brother walks off to leave you there. The joy of brothers.

This was my chance to be the spectator (as opposed to the spectacle) of a real rodeo, so I was rather excited when we pulled up and there was a sea of cowboy hats. I had bought reserved seats for us as a birthday gift for my parents. The whole scene was fascinating to me. From the fans, to the kids, to the uber patriotic national anthem presentation, to the six packs of beer that they sold still held together by the plastic six pack rings. This is the middle America. This is the plains, where the real cowboys are. Yet cowboys have changed through the years. The man next to me with a cowboy hat, holding a beer with a plastic six pack ring on it, had to take a cell phone call about some cattle that needed to be picked up tomorrow. I had to laugh to myself about the modern cowboy…no guns, just cell phones.

The Mitchell rodeo had it all; good looking cowboys, bucking broncos, barrel racing, bull riding, calf roping, and even a strange acrobatic horse show/intermission. The calf roping was by far my favorite event, I think I was mainly thankful that I wasn’t he one getting roped! My South Dakota Family Vacation had come to an end. As we drove back to Eastern South Dakota the next morning, we were treated to one of my favorite sites on this flat landscape, an storm rolling across the prairie as far as you could see. South Dakota actually surprised me in many ways. Sure, it’s rather desolate, but it had variety in landscapes, variety in wildlife, and plenty of unique experiences!
Photo: Storm in the distance…

Animal Encounters Of The Hoofed Kind

Sherry — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 23:22:30 +0000

Buffalo lounging in the grass

Photo: Buffalo lounging in the prairie grass

To view the ‘best of’ South Dakota photography – click here!

Click here to see all of the snapshots of our animal encounters, Mt. Rushmore, and hiking.

The signs were everywhere. In Pierre, along the interstate, near Rapid City, in small towns…the silhouette of a buffalo and some scripted writing with an arrow pointing the direction of “Dances with Wolves Filming Site”. I haven’t seen the movie for some time; however I do still remember the Indian name for buffalo, tatanka. It’s probably the only Indian word I know. It seems like the movie Dances With Wolves put South Dakota on the map.

On day two of my family vacation we unknowingly were on a South Dakota Safari. It seemed that our travels kept leading us into the path of wild animals, sometime on purpose, sometimes on accident. Luckily, we survived all of the encounters and so did the animals…yet I believe we probably equally scared each other!

We decided that we would explore the nations 2nd largest state park, Custer State Park. It’s nestled in the Black Hills of South Dakota on the western edge of the state. After traveling through the Midwest for a while, it’s always exciting the first time you start to see hills, they look like mountains and your eyes are relieved to get a glimpse of something that isn’t so flat and vast. That’s how I felt when I entered Custer State Park, relieved to know that there is something else other than wheat fields and hay bails as far as the eye can see. My dad navigated the scenic Needles highway through a multitude of curves and turns; I thought about how I’d rather be the driver than the passenger in this situation while wondering what needles had to do with hairpin curves. We came out of the woods and I had my answer, the needles were the rock formations that loomed in front of us jutting up out of the forested hills. We pulled over so that I could take some photos and get some fresh air before car sickness took hold!

As we were walking around the rocky area I heard a weird noise and saw something move out of the corner of my eye. I looked left in the direction of the UMO (Unidentified Moving Object) and I was surprised to see a large white mountain goat jump onto a huge rock about 15 feet above where my dad was standing. I grabbed my camera and started shooting as it continued to jump and make its way down the rocky cliff face and onto the road. As it reached the road, it ran right towards my dad and stopped about 5 ft. from him. The goat looked at him for a few seconds, and then ran around him. I honestly thought that my dad was going to get rammed, but they must have had some sort of meeting of the minds deciding that they were friends and not foes; not to mention too stubborn to move.

After our close encounter butting heads, we went on towards Mt. Rushmore to view the famous heads. This was my main goal in coming to western South Dakota; to get a dose of the ultimate monument in American pride. It’s the one monument that will last longer than any other thanks to it natural, sturdy construction. There is no entry fee for the monument, which makes it my kind of tourist attraction; budget friendly! However, parking was $10 and there’s really no getting around that unless you arrive by bus. I share a birthday with one of the rock heads, but even that didn’t get us free parking.

Mt. Rushmore was pretty much what I expected, impressive and very patriotic. The museum/visitor center was full of footage of the construction as well as history of the famous presidents. As I read the historical information and presidential quotes, it reminded me of just how unique this country is. For all of my disgust with it at times, I have to admit, it is a pretty amazing place with a strong cultural personality; unlike any other country I’ve ever been to.

The remainder of the day we traveled by many more Dances With Wolves signs through the town of Deadwood and winding through Spearfish Canyon. We even made it to Wyoming where the rocky hills oozed out into a vast rolling ‘big country’ of hills and open spaces. This is where we had yet another animal encounter, with Bambi. Bambi was in the middle of the road and we were hurdling towards it trying to quickly decipher which way Bambi was going to turn. Odds were that Bambi would turn; Deer never stand still when you want them to. We slammed on the breaks and veered to Bambi’s right the exact direction which Bambi decided to go of course. I braced myself and cringed knowing that we weren’t going to be the ones hurt in this situation…the Honda outweighed Bambi. I watched out the front window as the little white tail was going to be swallowed by our car, but by some miracle of good brakes, we ended up simply tapping it and saw that it was able to run off and up the hill without any noticeable limp. All was fine in the enchanted forest, but it was one very close encounter…I mean call.

The next day I was ready to see tatanka – not just on a sign announcing Dances with Wolves, but the real thing. Custer Park has herds of buffalo roaming the park in the prairie areas. We took off early in the morning and I strapped all of my cameras around my neck in the hopes of maybe seeing a buffalo. Sure, I had seen the buffalo in Golden Gate Park before, but they are fenced in and not as ‘convincing’ as seeing a large herd out in the grasslands of South Dakota…the motherland of tatanka. We wound along the park road eyes peeled for anything brown that moved. A car in front of us had pulled over ahead, so I knew that there must be something worth stopping for. Sure enough, a huge male buffalo was slowly walking across the grassland! I got out of the car and used my zoom lens to capture it. After watching it lumber along I was pretty satisfied with our sighting – my goal was met. We continued on and went around the corner and to my surprise there was the rest of the herd – about 100 of them roaming freely.
Click to enlarge my bufalo sighting – from one to many!

All of a sudden I was transported back to Kenya on safari. I felt like I was really on an adventure…right here in my home country. I hung out the window shooting the herd on both sides of the road. They were slowly on the move and we, along with a long backup of other cars, were in their way. I’ve never seen anything like it before, we were literally caught up in rush hour traffic, but the traffic had hoofs and was larger than most sedan size cars. This was a test of patience as we sat there for at least 30 minutes stopped or inching along as the herd slowly moved through the road calling/snorting to one another. As I hung out the window taking photos, I couldn’t help but laugh and recall how much this reminded me of India. My parents were getting a bit impatient about the whole buffalo jam, and I just channeled my ‘travel patience’ which I acquired last year around the world and really enjoyed the crazy moment. The buffalo were surrounding out car, walking by so close that I could reach out and touch them…but decided against it as a 2,000 lb buffalo was a bit intimidating to me!

Click to enlarge photos of the traffic jam!

The close encounters of the hoofed kind were exhilarating, and a bit dangerous. Luckily no person, animal, or car was harmed on any of these encounters! The buffalo traffic was by far my favorite experience of the whole trip to the edge of South Dakota. It made me realize how much I have missed traveling and crazy adventures that are truly out of the ordinary; experiences which aren’t contrived and scripted like most of our tourist attractions. I think I’m about ready to leave again…which is good considering I have a one way ticket out of the country on August 26th.

Photo: I couldn’t resist this shot! Maybe I am still 11 yrs old…

Family Vacation

Sherry — Fri, 18 Jul 2008 06:02:15 +0000

Looks inviting?

Que the song “Holiday Road”, load up the family truckster, and head to Wally World.

To view the ‘best of’ South Dakota photography – click here!

For all snapshots of South Dakota – Bad Lands and Wall Drug click here!

I recently watched National Lampoon’s Vacation again. It had been years since I had seen the Griswalds take off for Wally World, still a classic movie that strikes a chord with me thanks to some similar family vacations I took when I was a kid. Our family car was a little 1978 Honda Civic Hatchback; after all there was a gas crisis back then. Sound familiar? We would all squeeze into that car (with my brother sister and I in the cramped back seat fighting constantly), pack in plastic bags (because they were more mold-able in the hatchback), a cooler full of soda and tuna salad sandwiches and take off for some midwestern location about 800 miles away.

Photo: 1978 Honda Civic – yes, 5 of us fit in there…
This week, I find myself reliving this scenario minus my brother and sister. Since I’m in the Midwest during my ‘Summer of Homelessness’, I decided that I might as well get out and see some of the sights that I missed in my childhood. My parents were up for this adventure, so we set our sites on Mt. Rushmore. What could be more American than stone Presidents on land that we stole/took back from the Native Americans!? It’s not Wally World, but Western South Dakota would have to do.

My parents have upgraded to a 4 door Honda Accord now, but my mom still packed a cooler full of drinks and tuna salad sandwiches wrapped in wax paper. Yes – it’s a bit strange to be 38 yrs old and back on a family vacation; I feel like I’m 11 again. It’s all a bit confusing for my brain. As I traveled with my parents it made me realize just how many of my neurosis came from them! Actually, it helps me understand how I have come to see the world and why. Like it or not, we are a product of our parents and how we were raised. I’m not complaining at all, it’s just that when you spend a lot of time with your parents as an adult – you can’t help but need some therapy.

I quickly learned that South Dakota is pretty much like Nebraska…flat…very flat. I also learned that the state domestic product must be hay…because it was everywhere. I never knew it came in so many forms…hay bails, hay bail rolls, hay stacks, hay bail roll stacks…the list goes on. These various forms of hay dotted the flat countryside of South Dakota like sheep in New Zealand. I’m willing to bet that there are more hay formations than people in South Dakota. My dad, being an ex-farmer, was rather helpful in educating me on all of the nuances of hay such as why we need it, what animals eat it, rolls vs. stacks, what its shelf life is, Hay vs. Alfalfa bails, etc. If any of you want to know this info, send me a comment and I’m happy to share. This was the first 4 hours of our 500 mile journey to the west. Pretty similar to my childhood memories.

My next education took place in the capital of South Dakota – Pierre. Here’s a surprise, Pierre South Dakota is not French. Nope, that’s right – don’t get fooled by that French looking name. It is not pronounced pee-air nor do people wear berets there. Instead it’s pronounced like the word beer…’peer’. It took me a while to get used to not correcting people, but their confused look made me realize that I was the stupid one. Another thing that Pierre is not…big. With a population of aprox. 13,000, it’s a very small place for a state capital. In fact – I was positive it was the smallest state capital – until I googled it and realized that once again I know very little about my own country; Montpelier, Vermont is the smallest at aprox. 8500.

Wall Drug Sign – click to enlarge
After a few more hours of driving, another tuna salad sandwich and generic diet coke, I started seeing signs for the famous Wall Drug Store in Wall South Dakota. What’s that, you’ve never heard of the famous Wall Drug Store…neither had I. I will save you a trip to Wikipedia and give you the short history.

During the Depression in the 1930’s, Wall Drug Store was saved from bankruptcy by offering free ice water to the traveling public, advertising this via hundreds of signs along the highways. It has now grown into the largest, most publicized drug store in the world.

Photo: My dad holding his free ice water compliments of Wall Drug
Trust me – there was no possible way to miss Wall Drug. There was a sign for it about every mile and as you got closer – it went to about every ¼ mile. The signs advertised ice water, homemade donuts, 5 cent coffee, cowboy boots, and ice cream. They even advertised free donuts for newlyweds. I waited a long time to see a sign that said “Free ice cream for single women in their 30’s”…no luck. Regardless, the signs worked and we turned off the exit for some free ice water…and some of the best butterscotch ice cream I’ve ever had! The whole town of Wall South Dakota is pretty much the drug store. Busloads of visitors stop there each day; they get 20,000 visitors a day in the summer. See what I mean, it’s impossible not to stop.

After Wall, we drove through the Bad Lands National Park. It reminded me of the Painted Dessert in Arizona that I saw recently on my cross country road trip. It seemed so out of place in South Dakota. Who knew that South Dakota had this amazing land formation that simply rose out of the flat prairie? It was stunning.

Photo: Bad Lands Stripes
After 530 miles, about 5000 hay bails, 4 tuna sandwiches, and 3 ice waters, we made it to our destination, the Black Hills of South Dakota. We pulled a few beers out of the stocked cooler and celebrated. At least on this family vacation, I am old enough to have a beer! I really have no idea how I coped with family vacations before alcohol could be consumed.

Day 1 of my family vacation was quite educational. Sure, there were some times when I wanted to run out of the car screaming, but if now as a grown adult you spent 530 miles in the car with your parents I’m sure you’d want to do the same. All I can say is that even though I found myself on a family vacation again at age 38, it made me how realize how happy I am that I’m not 11 any longer!

Escape from the Lake

Sherry — Sat, 12 Jul 2008 18:21:41 +0000

Architecture of Walker Art Museum

Photo: Walker Art Museum – Minneapolis

I grew up in the country, however I never really considered myself a ‘country girl’. Instead, I always dreamed of the big cities; that’s where I knew I belonged. The past month I have spent time in the small towns of the midwest living a ‘country’ life. It’s quiet, scenic, and every morning I wake up to cool breezes and birds singing – it’s perfect. Yet this week I reached my breaking point. All of this fresh air and scenic solitude finally got to me. Actually, I think the final straw might have been kids arguing with each other about why they were being treated unfairly yet again.

I realized that I missed my city life a bit, but what I really missed was my solitude. I have lived alone since I was 27, no roommates, no one to be loud unless I decided to play my music loudly, or have friends over. Four weeks of living with others (not just others…but kids) in the solitude of the countryside finally made me reach my breaking point and reach for the mini-van keys. I needed an afternoon off from people and I needed some culture other than the Disney Channel.

I put on my one and only nice outfit, and pointed the mini-van towards Minneapolis…alone. I decided that I would visit a site in Minneapolis that I had never been to before. After living 4 1/2 years in Minneapolis I had never visited the Walker Modern Art Museum. As an modern art enthusiast, I knew that the Walker was the artistic hub of the city; famous for it’s sculpture garden with the backdrop of downtown Minneapolis.

The building itself was a lovely piece of architecture to view. Inside of the galleries the building was stark, and full of texture and angles – one of my favorite things to photograph. I soaked up all of the silence and slowly wandered through the galleries enjoying the thought provoking art.

It was a picture perfect summer day in Minneapolis and so I went for a walk in the sculpture garden. As you are all watching the oh-so-exciting Republican convention held in Minneapolis, you will most certainly see the famous cherry…ahem…sculpture in the Walker Sculpture Garden. The sculpture entitled Spoonbridge and Cherry by Claes Oldenburg is one of my favorite images of Minneapolis. I decided to examine it from all photographic angles for some fun.

Click images to enlarge:

I ended my outing by walking to the Uptown area to see some old friends. As I walked through my old neighborhood in Mineapolis, memories of my time there came flooding back; men I had dated, bars I had partied at, restaurants I frequented. It left me pondering the concept of ‘back then would have I ever thought that my life would have went in this direction; that I would live in San Francisco, New York City, travel around the world, and eventually live in Vietnam. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that back then…I didn’t even have a passport then! I finished my field trip by meeting some old friends and catching up over a glass of wine and asian food. A perfect escape from the lake; some art, some photography, some friends, and lots of memories.

Wisconsin – Beer, Cheese, and Women

Sherry — Thu, 26 Jun 2008 14:22:09 +0000

Photo: Cedar Lake, Wisconsin – the next stop on my Midwestern Family Tour

I have traveled to yet another middle America state. I’m currently in Wisconsin surrounded by beer, cheese and women. This sounds like a dream location if I was a guy…but I digress. On my summer Midwestern Family Tour (not to be confused with the Magical Mystery Tour – far from it!) I left South Dakota last week to go to Duluth Minnesota along Lake Superior. Duluth is kind of like stepping into Pittsburg but everyone has a weird Minnesota accent. Kind of a strange vortex of north meets east. I was in Duluth for one main reason…to see friends and family run in the Duluth Marathon. However, not only does Duluth put on a fabulous marathon, but a little known fact about Duluth is that it holds a special place in my heart since it is where I came up with my (former) cat’s name, Palucci. I will skip the details of that…but you can tuck that little piece of trivia away for use one day when I’m famous…ha.

Photo: Some of my family and friends in Duluth celebrating after the marathon – click to enlarge
The race was great – at least for the spectators. It was a bit warm for the runners. I even jumped in and carried my out-of-shape body along for 4 miles with a friend cheering him on between trying to get air to my lungs; hopefully distracting him from the 26.2 miles of pain that he was going through! My sister and brother-in-law also ran in the race, so it was quite the family affair. All survived and didn’t even lose a toe nail; a bonus when running marathons.

This was also the site of my ‘big switch’; the switch from my small town South Dakota life with my parents to my small town Wisconsin life with my sister. My sister and her family live in Singapore, but in the summer they come back to the US to stock up on western items, see family, be disgusted by large American-sized food portions, and enjoy summer vacation. They have a cabin on a lake in Wisconsin so it seemed like a great place to spend a few weeks helping my sister out with busing the kids around to various activities, doing laundry, and generally helping her keep sane while living with 3 girls on her own.

Once again, I found myself in a weird transition – from bustling New York, to slow and quiet South Dakota, to loud chaotic kids. Kids are like aliens to me, I’m around them so little that when I do get exposed to them it’s always a shock to my system. It takes me a few days to get back in my ’kid’ mode. I am now officially up to date on who the teen idols are, who Hanna Montana/Miley Cyrus is (I was always confused about this double identity thing), I’m up to date on my Seventeen Magazine reading, and I have become reacquainted with the word “dude”. I think I’m about up to date on being a cool Aunt again.

Photo: Lake Cabin – my new home for a few weeks
Currently the cabin is full of 6 women (my sister, 3 nieces, a family friend, and myself). Add to that the 2 other young girls having a sleep over – and we are up to our eyeballs in estrogen (and there is one bathroom). This is quite an adjustment from my ‘normal’ NYC life of hanging out with gay men…then again…maybe not. This new kid/female lifestyle I have wandered into isn’t super travel centered, but it does provide me some great time with family before I head off to Vietnam. So I will soak up every moment I can and wash it down with a few Wisconsin beers and cheese curds in order to make it through the chaotic day!

Sex in the City – Small Town Style

Sherry — Thu, 19 Jun 2008 05:07:42 +0000

Twin Brooks Main Street

Photo: Main Street Twin Brooks, South Dakota…bustling.

When I told my parents that I was coming to stay with them for a month, they seemed excited. Maybe it’s because then they don’t have to talk to each other as much…or maybe I just provide entertainment, who knows. However my mother was particulary excited and started filling up her calendar with things that we could do in and around their small town community. The standard lunches were booked, church clubs, visiting with neighbors, but one of the items on the calendar stuck out. June 15th – Male Revue at Ol’ Gunslinger in Twin Brooks. Yes, that’s right – my mom had booked my calendar with a male strip show…on Father’s Day.

Photo: My mom with tickets and singles in hand.
Granted, I did willingly agree to go, but from a journalistic point of view. The chance to see a traveling male strip show coming to a small town with a population of less than 50 people – how could I pass that up as a blogger. I knew my blogging audience would be interested in Midwestern America – and this was definitely a side of it worth sharing! Seriously – you all would have done the same. When my mom asked me if I was interested – I said “of course!” I told her that if I wanted to see men in underwear, I could just go to a gay club in NYC and watch them dance for free, but this opportunity provided much more than scantily clad men. I wanted to see the women from rural America that were going to this show. Plus, I wanted to see the men that were traveling the rural cities performing…I was intrigued to say the least. I personally think that my mother had come to grips with the fact that I wasn’t going to provide her with a wedding and a son-in-law, so this was her way of getting to go to the bachelorette party that she’d never normally get to do.

On the day of the big ‘show’, my dad and I went for a drive in the country to do some photography. Plus, it was Father’s Day and it was a nice way to spend some time with my dad looking at cows. Yes, I know, many of you went to brunch with your dad…I went to go look at cows…not glamorous, but fun in its own way. We decided to drive through the town of Twin Brooks where the big ‘show’ was that evening. I had never been to Twin Brooks, so I wanted to get a good look at it by day so I could get a feel for the place. I was utterly stunned when I saw it. I’ve been to small towns before…but this place took the cake. Photo: Ol’ Gunslinger in Twin Brooks. Twin Brooks was flanked by railroad tracks that ran through the town and consisted of a post office (that also doubled as the town restaurant), a church that was closing it’s doors forever that afternoon after it’s service, and a bar…the Ol’ Gunslinger. I’m serious…that was it. They had a road called Main street which the post office and Ol’ Gunslinger were located on – it was gravel. In fact, all of the roads in Twin Brooks were gravel. I thought to myself – what traveling ‘revue’ show in their right mind would come here to perform?!

After our more traditional Father’s Day dinner, we cleaned up and my mom and I put on our Manolos and headed out to Twin Brooks. I was hoping it may be a bit livelier at night than what I saw that afternoon. I was also hoping that the permanent closing of the church had nothing to do with the male revue! We armed ourselves with 1 dollar bills, waved goodbye to my dad, and pointed the car towards hedonism.

A sign outside the Gunslinger warned us that it was Ladies Only. I’m sure all of the men in the town were rather disappointed that we had taken over their one and only watering hole, but they weren’t my concern…I was here to see flesh! We walked inside the dimly lit bar and I immediately knew that I wasn’t in NYC any longer. The walls were lined with animal heads…big ones. Neon Bud Light signs were placed between the antelers of Bambi and the juke box was blaring Achy Brakey Heart.

I swear to you that I’m not embellishing.

With our $15 tickets came a free drink – so I decided to forgo what everyone else seemed to be drinking (Bud Light bottles) and provide some class to the place – we went for the good liquor. There were 3 long tables arranged in a horse shoe with a backdrop for the ‘stage’ at the open end of the horseshoe. There were more colored lights than a middle school dance. We looked around in a bit of amazement – not due to the décor, but because we were two of 10 people in the bar. This was going to be a long night. We sat down and surveyed the ‘crowd’. My mom said, “ There are 3 gray haired women, 1 pregnant woman, and 4 fat women.” I was hoping she wasn’t including me in the fat count. It was a rather sorry crew – but we were a part of it – so we really couldn’t judge. My mom was one of the three gray haired women. The other two sat across the horseshoe from us sipping White Zinfandel. I was intrigued with them. Pretty soon a platter of jello shots were passed around. Apparently in addition to one free drink, we also got free jello shots. What exactly were they preparing us for?

Photos of the inside…click to enlarge:

Now I’ve made my share of jello shots. Those of you who have attended my parties are very familiar with my jello themes. However, these were hands down the strongest jello shots I had ever had. One more of those and I was going to get up and strip. Two more women showed up with gave us a whopping total of 14 in the crowd including us – the show was ready to start. I wondered just how desperate these men were who were coming out to strip for 14 women in a small town in the middle of nowhere. I’m sure there is a reality show pilot somewhere in this.

There were 3 men and none of them had mullets, thank God. In fact – they were all pretty decent looking. My expectations were already exceeded on their looks – or maybe it was the jello taking hold. They were all big muscle men; they clearly spend hours in the gym. The question was – could they dance…and were they straight? One was really young…looked like they pulled him right off the farm in Iowa, another was older and also served as the MC, and the third was a black guy that they called…take a deep breath…Hot Chocolate.

I swear to you that I’m not embellishing.

I was a bit hung up on the Hot Chocolate name – I wasn’t sure if I should laugh, be offended, or feel badly. Regardless, he was hot. The night was filled with some goofy dance routines, lighting snafus, tons of lap dances, more jello, crazy kama sutra positions (I should have been taking notes), and my mom and I screaming and laughing through it all. A great mother-daughter bonding moment over jello and dancing men. No, photos of the show were not allowed…sorry, no hot chocolate for you.

After the show, we went over and introduced ourselves to the other two gray haired ladies. We found out that my mom and they went to the same church; the joy of small town life. I liked those gray haired, Zinfindel drinking women. They were spunky in their sequin trimed jackets. They were brave and progressive. They were a model of what I wanted to be like when I get old. However, I think my mom impressed me most. After all, she knew how to do a jello shot. Did I mention that my mother is 72?

Photos: Me and my mom enjoying the free drinks and jello shots

The show was pretty much what I expected. For those of you who don’t know me personally – I don’t normally have very high expectations when it comes to men. But it was a great night out; fun to watch and be a part of a once in a lifetime opportunity. A slice of middle America; a far cry from Sex in the City…but just as entertaining.

Dairy Month – Experiencing New Cultures

Sherry — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 18:36:08 +0000

Photo: South Dakota cows. If you are really in touch with Midwestern culture, you wil note that these aren’t dairy cows…

I’ve had one of those weeks…one where you leave the familiar and go to a foreign place where everything seems so different, amazing, and sometimes strange. You are exposed to new cultural traditions, values, and food. I love that feeling of watching in wonder at something you never expected to see – it’s exhilarating. So when the Dairy Queen of South Dakota, proudly displaying her crown atop her perfectly coifed blonde curls handed me a small carton of milk, I stared in amazement thinking, “what is this strange country?”

When you feel like a foreigner in your own country, it’s a disturbing feeling. Going from a 100 degree heat wave in bustling New York City where sweaty people crowd into the subway as if they are your new love interest, to the cows roaming the wide open prairies of South Dakota; it’s a huge shock to the system. I’ve been in culture shock now for a few days.

The free milk went along with a free cheeseburger. Apparently June is Dairy Month – did you know that? In NYC you are aware of black history month, women’s history month, breast cancer month, Aids awareness month, Native American month, pride week and administrative assistant day…but I can safely say that I had no idea there even was a dairy month. In small town Midwest, they actually give out free dairy products throughout the month! There’s nothing free in NYC, so I was in awe of this concept. To top off the free cheeseburger, chips, and carton of milk – you also were served a rootbeer float. They set up picnic tables by the lake in Milbank, my parents closest and largest town, and the whole town shows up to eat for free. Everyone knows each other and they actually look each other in the eye and ‘visit’. A foreign concept to New Yorkers.

I stopped at the grocery store yesterday where I was equally amazed at the prices and the selection. The prices were half of what I was used to paying in the city, and the selection was also half of what I was used to in the city. I mean really, are fresh mint leaves considered an exotic herb? I didn’t think so, but ask the grocer in Milbank and you’ll get a blank stare. I went down the ‘ethnic’ food aisle to look for Asian ingredients for pad thai; I could only find La Choy Chow Mein….a specialty of many Midwestern cooks. I’m not quite sure that I’m ready to give up fresh mint leaves and the ingredients for Pad Thai, but in some ways it does sound better than being pushed around in a over capacity fire safety risk at Fairway Market on the Upper West Side. That’s a toss up.

Do you know how hard it is to not lock your car door when you’ve been conditioned to lock everything – even your ipod to your handbag in case someone will steal it on the subway. Here in small town Midwest, no locking is necessary. Heck – the keys stay in the car and we even leave the windows down…why not go all the way?!

Photo: My parents house in South Dakota
My first few days back in the middle of the country have been full of contemplating my origins, my present, and my future. I’ve kind of been in a mental funk taking all of this Midwestern-ness in. This is what I grew up with, but having been gone from it now for so long, it feels foreign to me. Sure, I love New York City and San Francisco, but there’s something equally beautiful about watching a huge storm roll across the prairie. You can see it approaching for miles – even the smell of it is familiar to me. In the land-locked Mid-west, the tall grasses in the pastures blow in the wind like waves on the ocean. These days have been about adjustment, and catching up on sleep; beautiful, fitful sleep without garbage trucks waking me up. It’s nice to get back to your roots, but I don’t think I could ever give up the bustle of the city.

I wonder what free food month July is? I’m keeping my fingers crossed for chocolate month!

Sherry Has Left The Building

Sherry — Wed, 04 Jun 2008 12:03:03 +0000

Photo: Shutting the door on my 5 years at 74th and Columbus…

There’s something surreal about seeing your bed wheeled down the streets of NYC on a dolly. Really – a sobering situation.

There I was, walking down the street with friends after dinner seeing my life possessions being carted down the street – God…this isn’t happening…is it?

My friends have been amazing – and have benefited quite a lot from my liquidation of my life. Many of them have taken/borrowed furniture, art, and electronics. This is all great as is means that it’s less stuff to put into storage…however in another weird way it is terribly painful. I realized just how painful it was when I saw my mattress being wheeled down the street past the Museum of Natural History…which may be quite fitting for my mattress!

Photo: Me working my ‘home office’…what’s left of it.
Slowly – every day more is taken away…I’m left with a beach chair – my only piece of furniture to sit on, paper plates, and plastic silverware as I’ve sold all the rest.

Sure, it’s great to have the money from selling things…but it goes so fast. It’s strange thinking that your bed is the same value as a dinner and a nice bottle of wine in NYC.

I’d like to sit here and say that I liquidated my life with ease and confidence, that I was the model of composure; but I can’t lie. There have been a few tears shed about the loss of my possessions. As it gets closer to nothingness, more tears seem to come, but that is more about me wanting this whole process to be over – I’m just tired of it. I’m tired of living like this slowly watching things disappear and crumble around me. The rub is that as bad as it feels – it feel equally good and freeing. Sometimes I think that tears are necessary though…it’s a mourning process that we have to let our bodies go through….and mine has been working overtime.

Photo: My dear friends doing some ‘Sherry Shopping’ – at least I know it goes to a good home!

Seeing my bed on the street…well, that was a whole new level. I was already a bit apprehensive about selling my bed, seeing it on the street made it even harder. Your bed is precious. Just think for a moment…think about your bed….and then think about never sleeping in it again. But not because you are replacing it with a new fluffier bed, instead it is because you are choosing to give up normalcy. From this point forward for the next few years you will be sleeping in multiple beds – some good, some bad. But never the same bed for long; and it’s never YOUR bed. That is the challenge of traveling.

It’s weird to be going through this again – leaving again. I have this ‘here we go again’ feeling as I pack up my suitcase full of rolled clothes – my dresser on wheels. It’s easier since I know what to expect, but harder also because this time it’s for real….there’s nothing but friends and a small storage space in Manhattan to come back to.

Homeless Again

Sherry — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 03:40:29 +0000

My posessions…no longer…

A friend recently asked me if I ever felt an overwhelming social pressure to get married and have kids.
My answer, “Not really.”
Sure, there’s pressure from a social norm standpoint, but I seldom let it get to me. However, recently I have felt a great deal of social pressure with my current life decision; to not go back to my corporate career and instead sell 90% of what I own to go make slightly over $15000 a year. I am truly going back to square one, the square I was in when I graduated from college.

Today there are an increasing number of women not getting married or having a family. But I don’t know many other people who have decided willingly to go from the making of an extremely comfortable lifestyle with a 6 figure salary to practically nothing. No home, and few possessions. Sure, when I used to have really terrible days at work I’d fantasize about giving it all up and living a simpler life – but deep down I didn’t think it would actually happen.

When I refer to social pressure, I’m not saying that people are specifically putting pressure on me telling me not to do it. In fact my friends and family have been very supportive through my struggles, indecision, and tears. The pressure is coming from myself and what I see around me. Ever since I graduated from college I have been on a quest; a quest to be ‘grown up’ and successful. A quest to own furniture that doesn’t come with assembly instructions.

I still remember the first piece of furniture I ever purchased; a couch from Sears. Then came a bed, some side tables, kitchen appliances, works of art, pottery, clothes, more clothes, handbags, and a shitload of shoes. Some how I moved from my apartment in Omaha, NE, which was furnished with furniture from garage sales and posters that I put in a plastic frames to a beautiful loft in Manhattan with real wood furniture and actual art on my walls. I had a real ‘grown-up’ life I purchased for myself.

Now I look around at all the stuff I have acquired through the years and realize that it’s really my enemy. It’s holding me hostage. But who at 38 yrs old in their right mind gives it all up?

The progression of my disappearance of ’stuff’…from every angle…click on the picture to enlarge.

I had to make this weighty decision while I was away from my stuff – it’s too hard to do while you are sitting on your perfectly good couch that you are deciding whether to give up or not. I’d like to say that my time back in NY since January has been fun and carefree – but it hasn’t. I’ve been weighted down with big decisions – what do I do next, how will I live, how do I avoid corporate America, where will I live, how will I make money to live? This constant bombardment of difficult questions that I submit myself to has been a slow torture. Coupled that with being in NY where you tend to bleed money – it has really sucked.

In order to not lose my mind I’ve had to make some decisions and my first step is to cut free of the shackles of my stuff and rent payments.

Selling my ‘stuff’ off to my family, friends, neighbors, and strangers creates a weird feeling. It’s certainly not a comfortable situation. As I hand over the items that I worked so hard to acquire I try to think of it as if I’m getting rid of a disease and now it’s someone else weighty shackles. They will have to house it for years and be tied down to it. By looking at it as buying my freedom, it doesn’t feel as pathetic.

As I look around my comfortable apartment, I wonder for a moment just how much my stuff defines me. It’s a fact that stuff doesn’t make you happy, so why not cut free? As I watch my things march out of my life I have to change my mindset. My stuff and my apartment doesn’t define me. Instead, it’s my writing and this blog that defines me. I don’t need stuff…I feel lighter already.

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Changes in Latitudes; The Future

Sherry — Sat, 10 May 2008 19:39:09 +0000

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I’ve been in New York City for 5 months now; it’s time for a change.

During this time in NYC I’ve been challenged with many things; reverse culture shock, living on a tight budget, finding my ‘place’ again in the world, taking teaching classes, trying to get business ideas off the ground, finding medical insurance, and starting a freelance career in writing/photography. I’ve went through all of these challenges with one goal in mind, to get back on the road in that everlasting search for happiness. I needed to figure out my next steps that would keep me from re-entering the regular corporate working world, and get me back on the road with a small income.

I’m happy to say – I finally have a plan! Being a former project manager, my feeling is that a plan is like a drug…your miserable when you don’t have it, but when you realize your plan, it’s ecstasy!

Drum roll please….
In the beginning of June I will be moving out of my apartment, selling 80% of my possessions, and heading to the Midwest for the summer months of June/July. I will have the chance to travel to some new places, see family, and have a proper summer vacation.
In August I will come back to New York City for a couple of weeks, soak up every last bit of westernized culture and cleanliness that I can, and then take off on a worldly journey again! My first stop is Nepal where I will be doing volunteer work in villages for 3 weeks. Next stop will be in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, my new home for the next year. Starting in mid September, I have accepted an ESL teaching position with an English Language School in Vietnam. I will teach adults English on a year contract – becoming a true expat and international citizen!

My hope is to take my 30 days of vacation I receive while teaching and do more traveling around the area into SE China, the Philippines, Taiwan, and Mongolia. I will also re-visit some places such as Singapore, Bali, Borneo, Cambodia, and of course travel through Vietnam.

I will also use this time to continue freelance travel writing/photography, blogging, and working on the Briefcase-to-Backpack startup (more to come on that)! No rest for the weary!

Over the next few weeks – check back on the blog as I will go into more detail about some of this stuff – and most importantly – I will be writing about my experiences of liquidating my life in search of a dream to be free form a desk and cubicle!

Road Trippin USA – Vol. 18; The Final Chapter

Sherry — Sun, 27 Apr 2008 14:24:37 +0000

Fourteen days, twelve states, and approximately 4,100 miles. Coast to Coast…what a fun voyage! There were so many things that I enjoyed about the overall voyage – a chance to see the diverse cultures within my own country, to challenge some of my perceptions, and to eat copious amounts of fried food…what more can you ask for?!

I looked at the trip as if it were a movie preview; it gave me a small taste of what it was all about and I could decide if I wanted to go back and see the whole thing sometime. With just two weeks time, you aren’t really able to get in depth into any one area. The trip helped me see an area, get familiar with the activities there, and take a mental note on how I would want to spend more time in the area in the future. One of the ‘previews’ that I loved was the Grand Canyon and all of the Utah National Parks. We actually were able to see many of the sites; however, we didn’t really get to experience them. I was longing to put on my hiking boots, backpack and get dirty and sweaty; or sign up for a week long rafting trip…but there was no time for that…it was just a preview. The full movie would have to be seen at a later date.

I feel lucky that I was able to do this trip with Kathleen, it provided us a chance to reconnect since we’ve both been out of the country for a long time. It’s not often that you get to spend 14 days with a friend in a car; thank God that we got along! Granted – we did have some fights – mainly over directions at a time when our blood sugar was low; but we persevered, got on the right track and made it to a Sonic burger diverting a full blown screaming argument!

Some of the most fun we had was going into gas stations and picking out junk food for the trip; items that we hadn’t eaten since we were teenagers. But if you’ve ever been on a road trip, then you understand the need to munch. We had a never ending array of munchies and bad food consisting of HoHo’s, beef jerkey, M&Ms, fruit pies, chips, cheetos, fig newtons, chex mix and fruit loops. This may be why our complexions were all of a sudden back to looking like a pimply 14 year old by the time we arrived in California.

The most expensive part of this trip was the cost of fuel – especially since we were driving an SUV. Since rising gas prices seem to always be in the news, I decided to conduct my own research. Every time we stopped for gas, I recorded our price so that we could determine the cheapest and the most expensive state for gas:
Washington DC – $3.53/gal
Virginia – $3.21/gal
West Virginia – $3.43/gal
Kentucky – $3.25/gal
Tennessee – $3.09/gal ****Cheapest!
Oklahoma – $3.25/gal
Texas – $3.29/gal
New Mexico – $3.35/gal
Arizona – $3.25/gal
Utah – $3.47/gal
Nevada – $3.59/gal
California – $3.99/gal *****Most Expensive!

You spend a lot of time looking out of windows when you are driving hundreds of miles a day. You have a lot of time to think while looking out those windows. I used this trip to make some big life decisions; decisions that I couldn’t seem to make while I was sitting in my apartment. Somehow, sitting in the car for hours provided me a change of scenery, and a chance to map out a plan for my near future. I saw many strange sites out the window, including 23 Walmarts. I also saw signs; some funny, some bewildering, and some that I used as ‘sign therapy’. They were the signs that actually put a few things in perspective on my path to making life decisions and prompted me to act.
Sign in Tennessee: “ You can’t plow a field just turning it over in your mind.”
Sign in Utah: “If opportunity doesn’t knock, then build a door.”

The one sign that we seemed to see most frequently was the road crossing signs. You know the ones, _(fill in the blank)_ Crossing – warning you of what may be crossing your path ahead. Up until now, I was very familiar with the Deer Crossing signs; however, this cross country journey opened my eyes beyond leaping deer in our path. We saw crossing signs for all kinds of animals: elk, cows, pigs, donkeys, steers, and even tractors. The things that actually did cross our path were only deer, cows, and dogs. However we both screamed when we were driving along a desolate highway in Utah and all of a sudden a huge vulture that was on the side of the road happily munching away at road kill was startled by our car. It started to fly away with the LARGE piece of road kill in it’s claws, The road kill was too heavy for it, and it dropped to the ground next to our car as we sped past. The vulture just about dropped it on our car! Luckily it was a failed bombing attempt!

Overall the trip was great. Sure, we were able to accomplish our goal; moving Kathleen’s car to the west coast; however it was much more than that. I was able to see places I’ve only heard about, and determine where I wanted to come back to. I was able to drive again (woohoo…it was fun being back behind the wheel)! I tried new foods, and gained a few pounds and pimples. I went to states that I had never visited before. I was able to spend time with a good friend, and I was able to make new friends. Finally, I was able to put my life in perspective again. These are the things that make a trip successful.

Thanks Kathleen!

Road Trippin USA – Vol. 17

Sherry — Fri, 25 Apr 2008 19:02:47 +0000

Photo: Pacific Ocean along Highway 1

Happy Cows Come from California

When I lived in California there was a commercial that ran frequently for the dairy association. It had cows in beautiful green pastures with rolling hills; the tag line was “Happy cows come from California”. I had never really given much thought to it – until we entered the rolling green hills of California.

We decided that our last day of travel should be a memorable one. As we looked at the map we had two options – taking interstate 101 up to San Francisco (about 4 hours of driving) or taking scenic and famous Highway 1 up the coastline to San Francisco (about 6 hours of driving). I’m sure you can guess what we chose. We felt that a fitting way to end the 2 week trip was to enjoy our surroundings, take our time, and simply soak it all up. Plus, surprisingly neither one of us had ever been on Hwy 1 south of Big Sur, so it was a chance for us to see something new.

As we took off from our interstate hotel and drove into the California countryside it was as if I went from a Lawrence of Arabia into the Sound of Music. There was a notable change in our surroundings as we sped towards the Pacific Ocean; there was moisture in the air! Over a week ago when we left Oklahoma and entered into Texas Kathleen said, “This is the last time we have moisture until we hit California.” From that point on we were applying Chap Stick, eye drops and nose drops as the desert landscapes sucked the moisture out of us and left us looking and feeling like raisins. As we were driving through the flat, stark desert lands, we would have gripping conversations to pass the time such as “Do you prefer tropical-humid-heat to desert-dry-heat?” Personally I think they both suck, one is terrible for my hair and the other for my sinuses – you really can’t win. However, today it was nice to simply change from one to the other – especially at this time of year. California is pleasant at this time of year – green, fragrant, and in bloom.

We drove through the rolling green hills and we were both rather speechless staring out at the picture-perfect countryside. Cows dotted the hills standing out against the vibrant green meadows. I kept thinking about the Happy Cow commercial – I felt that it was definitely ‘truth in advertising’. Hell, those cows looked so happy to be grazing in the green hillsides that I wanted to be want of them! They looked as if they didn’t have a care in the world; the warm ocean breeze blowing through their ummm….hair? They were taking their time munching on grass which I thought to be similar to humans having a wheat grass shot at Jamba Juice. Life seemed pretty good for them.

As we drove further West, pretty soon, we could go no further; we had arrived. We stopped the car and stared out at the Pacific Ocean before us. This was a powerful moment. The skies were blue, the sun shining, the temperature perfect, the ocean breeze lightly blowing; it was one of those overwhelming moments of perfection. I thought to myself ‘I can’t believe that we just drove from across the whole country’. There was something very meaningful about it; my reaction actually surprised me. I have looked at the map of the United States a million times, but it was no longer just a piece of paper, now it had meaning to me.

We saw signs for the Hearst Castle and neither of us had ever been there before so we decided to stop for one last roadside attraction. William Randolph Hearst built this amazing 90,000 sq. ft castle/house (a testament to someone with too much money) along highway 1 near San Simeon. We drove into the visitors center and it felt as if I had entered Disney Land. A huge parking lot, shuttle buses, beautifully manicured lawns; no, there wasn’t some dollar bill mascot. Unfortunately the prices were like Disneyland too – $20 for an adult ticket. Now I had a dilemma. For someone with no job you start to evaluate and make decisions on things in terms of value…such as – do I really want to see the house of a rich man for $20 or do I want to have a nice lunch on the coastal highway with a glass of wine?

Photo: Our lunch view…much better than the Hearst Tour!
Kathleen and I visited the gift shop and the museum – but passed on the tour of the house – opting for lunch instead! We hopped back in the car and drove north on highway 1 stopping to photograph some of the vistas and smell the wildflowers. We found a cute, picture-perfect place to stop for lunch. It was charming; a little restaurant and bar perched on the cliffs over the ocean. We took our time soaking up the sun and enjoying California wine (thank god as I was getting a bit tired of Bud Light) and healthy salads. We reminisced how we had survived the fried food of the South and how nice it was to be back in a state where the only salad wasn’t Iceberg lettuce and a tomato!
Click to enlarge all of the California wildflowers!

We drove into San Francisco and there it was…the wall of fog that defines San Francisco. The fog in San Francisco creeps over the hills like an eerie, slender hand grasping your shoulder, giving you chills literally. When I lived there, I was one of the strange people that loved the fog, it was different yet dependable…every day at 4PM in the summer, it came rolling in. It was so different from where I grew up in the Midwest. Driving out of the perfect California, sunny day into the grey fog bank of San Francisco seemed like a fitting way to end the trip.

We made it!

Road Trippin USA – Vol. 16

Sherry — Thu, 24 Apr 2008 13:46:28 +0000

Death Valley Salt Flats

View Map of our Route

For all Photos of Death Valley – click here!

500 Miles Through the Valley of Death

We bid Vegas farewell with a drive down Las Vegas Blvd. It’s not often that someone from the Midwest and the East Coast get to drive their car down Las Vegas Blvd…so we thought we better do it while we had a chance. Sure, it would have been better in a convertible with a scarf tied around my head like Jackie O…but our Jeep Cheroke and my baseball hat would have to do.

We made a big decision today; one that would cost us time and miles. A decision that made us sweat. Instead of heading straight towards San Francisco, we decided to head to a destination below sea level, Death Valley. In order to make it to Death Valley, we had to drive about 200 miles out of our way which basically meant that it would take us one day longer to get back to San Francisco. Even after 2 weeks of cross country travel, I wasn’t hating the car and driving yet, so the thought of seeing Death Valley seemed like an opportunity we should seize.

So – instead of following the mass exodus out of Vegas towards LA, we went north instead, deeper into the desert, deeper into the heat. I woke up this day with a terrible sore throat, it had bothered me for days, but today I couldn’t ignore it, I was sick. I’m sure Kathleen was really happy to be stuck with me in a car for 500 miles as I was hot, sick, grumpy, and hacking…but she had no choice!

We drove to the small town of Beatty, outside of the entrance into Death Valley and picked up supplies. It honestly felt as if we were going into this vortex for days and never going to come out. We made sure we had a full tank of gas, we bought numerous bottles of water, sandwiches, chips, M&M’s (you never know when you are going to need chocolate), and we washed our windows…we were ready to enter the Valley of Death…it sounded incredibly ominous as if I were a kid again entering a haunted house. The road was narrow and like a roller coaster – little dips that put your stomach in your throat. I imagined that the road had actually melted and that’s why it ended up all warped…hmmm…maybe I actually had a fever with my cold. Death Valley is actually a National Park, so I got out my Annual Park Pass, ready to flash it to the person taking money at the ‘gate’, but there was no gate. There wasn’t even a person. There was simply a vending kiosk that requested you to pay your fee. I was actually a bit freaked out that this park was so brutal that they didn’t even have a welcome gate and employee/ranger. For a moment I did wonder if we were driving straight into hell. We took a look at the map and plotted our course through the valley, rolled down our windows, cracked open our waters, started munching nervously on M&M’s, and entered the park.

Here are the facts; Death Valley is the lowest, driest and hottest valley in the US. It is the location of the lowest elevation in North America at 282 ft below sea level. It holds the record highest temperature in Western hemisphere and world’s second highest temperature overall at 134 degrees. It certainly makes you want to put on sun screen – which of course I forgot to pack.

It was a desolate drive. You could see the heat rays coming up from the ground making everything in the distance seem a bit fuzzy. We both wondered in amazement what crazy settlers would have ever stopped here and decided to try farming. There weren’t many that did it – but there were some that tried. There was a small oasis with a campground (ewwww…who would camp here?!) an actual visitors center where rangers dished out helpful info about how to get around and reminded everyone to drink a lot of water. They pointed out some good things to go see that required a bit of off roading; once again, thank goodness we had a Jeep.

Our first off-roading stop was the Devil’s Golf Course. A short drive off the main road into what appears to be a dried up field of coral. When you looked closely – it was all salt formations. I went to go tee off, but wondered how I would ever find my ball in this sea of white! Actually – I have no idea why they called it the Devil’s Golf Course – since it obviously wasn’t a golf course…but it was definitely worth the off-roading stop.

The valley is surrounded by canyons, but since we were watching time, we skipped the canyon viewing since we had already seen the ‘grandest’ of them all. Instead we went to the salt flats….which is pretty much how it sounds. A perfectly flat part of the park that was dusted in salt, making the whole valley floor appear bright white. This was also the lowest point. Years ago this area was actually full of water, however the water dried up, and the salt remains. It’s not going anywhere anytime soon. We walked onto the flats where I felt like I was literally cooking – at least I was seasoned…salt…duh. Bad joke I know. However – my curiosity did get the better of me and I tried to find a little ‘clean’ part of the salt that I could break off and taste. I still feel like I have an iron stomach from traveling India and Africa…so a little salt off the ground couldn’t hurt me! I have to say that it didn’t really taste like salt to me…maybe it just needed a little margarita mix.

We saw all the sites we had time to do and drove a long route out of the valley. The sun was beating down on me and I wasn’t doing well. Poor Kathleen was stuck with all of the boring driving, so when we arrived back in civilization, we stopped for Dairy Queen and I took over the wheel. At this point we had to haul ass to make some mileage. Granted – I’m not the person to put in the drivers seat when you have to haul ass, so this should be a good indication of how tired Kathleen really was! We lumbered along on the hi-way and eventually took some scenic routes to try to avoid going into LA. The route took us along side Edwards Air Force Base. Of course being girls, we had no idea what they did at Edwards – but after much discussion we determined that it had some association with space shuttle landings. I know more about shoes than I do about rockets. We googled it and learned that it was the home of the US Air Force Test Pilot School. Too bad we couldn’t stay around this area for the night, we finally could have met some eligible men on this trip!

The sun was going down but we decided to continue pushing past Mojave towards Bakersville where we would stop for the night. As we were driving a lovely back road enjoying the scenery, we all of a sudden noticed a beautiful carpet of orange. Kathleen looked in one of our guide books and realized that this carpet of orange was actually poppy fields in bloom! The orange flowers basked in the sunset were an amazing site. It made the drive all that more scenic.

We finally pulled into Bakersfield around 8PM, checked into a Motel 6, picked up some Wendy’s, and some Bud Light – and celebrated our 500 mile day. Only one more day to go before we hit our destination of San Francisco. I was a bit sad that it was coming to an end, but happy we survived DeathValley!

Road Trippin USA – Vol. 15

Sherry — Tue, 22 Apr 2008 02:14:25 +0000

Light it up!

Un-glitzy Vegas….

When Kathleen and I decided to make a one night stop in Vegas, we started reminiscing about past trips we’ve taken there. Wild times – dancing, skimpy dresses, gambling, clubbing, parties, shows, and many drinks. Las Vegas is the glitzy desert paradise, where people come to see and be seen. I just love Vegas.

We discussed how we had never really done the ‘older’ Vegas. We had not visited the old relics; the casinos of old Vegas before their sad demise to dynamite and the glitzy new Vegas. We had never done cheap, gaudy vegas…the kind where you eat at a buffet, gamble at the old casinos and went to topless shows. Well, this was our chance…considering we were already on a budget, the Bellagio wasn’t really within our means on this trip; therefore, we decided to see the side of Vegas that we hadn’t really seen much of…Vegas on the cheap.

The sad part is that we were so cheap that we couldn’t even afford to stay at the cheap hotels (which aren’t very cheap any longer!). Luckily Kathleen opted to use her Hilton points to ensure that we had a bed for the night! We stayed at the Hilton on the strip. What’s that, you’ve never heard of it? That’s for good reason…because it’s banished down at the end of the strip nestled between Circus Circus and the Sahara – two old relics that are hanging on. Plus, the Hilton on the strip was really the Hilton Family Vacation Hotel. Yes, that’s right, family. There were kids in the hotel and no casino which seems rather anti-Vegas in every way possible.

After going to the pool, and having a much needed drink, we struck up a conversation with the bartender to find out just how to do Vegas on the cheap. He was full of advice for us; now we had a plan. We dressed up in our best travel clothes that we were rather sick of by now, and went out walking on the strip. It was warm….very warm…a great feeling considering we started our day in Bryce Canyon freezing in the snow!

We went next door for a quick gamble at Slots-A-Fun. You have to love that name. Slots-A-Fun was a casino in front of Circus Circus that offered cheap entertainment – 1 cent slots. Woo hoo…I could play all night! I wondered if I could get free drinks while playing with my pennies. We even splurged and played the 25 cent slots…losing all of the change from our combined wallets…some things never change. We were starving and decided that if we didn’t get out of Slots-A-Fun pretty soon we be chowing down on their half pound hot dog for 99 cents. It was actually starting to smell good…scarey! Worth noting, not only did Slots-A-Fun have mystery meat for 99 cents, but they offered free donuts and coffee to its early morning gamblers!

We went across the street to the Peppermill Diner, a recommendation from our bartender. The Peppermill is an anchor on Las Vegas Blvd – oozing of neon and tackiness…so much so that you really can’t do anything but enjoy it. We sat in a huge round booth and surveyed our surroundings. The place was packed full; bachelorette parties and businessmen. I about choked on my water when out of the blue and pink neon came a cocktail waitress dressing a long black evening gown with a slit up to her…you can use your imagination. Boobs were hanging out as they always seem to do in Vegas, as she asked us for our drink orders. I looked around and had to laugh…this was a diner…just a regular 24 hour diner – what was this cocktail waitress doing here? Oh – that’s right, it’s Vegas – home of boobs, booty, and booze.

The food waitresses were dressed a bit more conservatively, yet not much. The food was your typical diner food; huge, greasy portions. We saw them bring some desserts out to various tables. I willing to bet that there was no dessert that wasn’t as big as my head and less than 2000 calories…it was insane. We passed on dessert and opted for beer instead. We wandered into the Fireside Lounge; the Peppermill’s answer to romance. As we entered into Fireside, we were assaulted by more neon, more slinky waitresses, more round velvety booths, and one giant bubbling fire pit in the middle of the room. The Fireside Lounge is also a Vegas staple. In fact, a few years ago it was voted one of the top 10 bars to make out in across America. Too bad I was with Kathleen…I’m sure she was thinking the same about me.

If I thought the diner was tacky…well then, I was naive. The lounge room was anchored by the fire pit; basically a small, bubbling hot tub with a flame coming out of the water burning eternally. Around the ‘romantic’ bubbling fire pit were lounges that you could slink into and make out with your date apparently. We had a beer and both sat there watching the ‘sites’ while not really saying a word to each other. I think we were in shock; or mesmerized by the mirrored ceilings and neon; or quite possibly the array of fake boobs that were paraded in front of us barely fitting into their plunging necklines. This wasn’t the place to be for an A cup…I think I would have quite a complex if I lived in Vegas.

We left the Fireside in order to check out the Sahara hotel and casino down the street; a place for cheap gambling and more people watching no doubt. I’m used to going to all of the upmarket hotels, casinos, and clubs while in Vegas, so the Sahara was quite a shock. Sure – it was the same loud, bright, party atmosphere as the other more upmarket hotels/casinos, but it had one thing that the others didn’t…quite a unique clientele. The Sahara wasn’t filled with the weekend parties from LA or San Diego – instead, it was filled with the less attractive, less plastic tourists and locals. I had to stop and wonder how we fit into this motley crew…definitely not plastic…the rest, I’m not sure!

We quickly gambled away our allotted money on blackjack and decided to go listen to the lounge band as at least that was free. It was as if I walked into a wedding reception in the Midwest. The band was trying hard to generate some interest and excitement, but the only people out on the dance floor were an older couple (about 60 yrs old), dressed in a suit and the woman was dressed in something that looked like it could have been a prom dress a few decades back. The lovely lady also wore a hat with some fake flowers on it – reminding me of an Easter bonnet. They danced around in a quirky fashion to the band covering U2…a very strange sight indeed.

I wasn’t sure what was more disturbing – this scene or the bountiful fake boobs surrounding me. Yet – at the same time, I loved it all. This is Vegas – quirky, plastic, loud, tacky…and most of all…fun.

If budget Vegas isn’t for you, then try a visit to Vegas in style at Las Vegas Resorts

Road Trippin USA – Vol. 14

Sherry — Sun, 20 Apr 2008 16:58:20 +0000

Arches National Park, Utah

Rocks, rocks, and more rocks…Utah Parks.

We left Monticello, Utah on yet another snowy morning. We had a late start today, which was a bit concerning since we had intended to try to do the Utah National Park trifecta today….Arches, Bryce, and Zion Parks. Granted, it was pretty poor odds that we would make it to all of them, but we decided we’d try our best to get as far as we could.

We left the snowy high elevation of Monticello and went down to Moab, home of the Arches National Park. However, our first stop was at House in a Rock – a roadside attraction that Kathleen loved so much she had to show me. The red rock dotted the landscape of Utah, sure, it’s beautiful, but who knew that it could also be a family dwelling. Near Moab, carved literally into the Canyonlands, Albert and Gladys Christianson built a completely functioning 5,000 sq. ft. home inside of a rock. They spent 12 years carving it out. Kathleen and I took the cheap, quick tour; it was definitely a hit on the quirky road side attraction list. It actually started as a diner for the miners and Albert and Gladys decided to add on – or maybe I should say ‘add in’. They drilled further into the rock and made a 3 bedroom home complete with fireplace and electricity.

Photo: Delicate Arch
Once we had our daily dose of ‘weird roadside attraction’ aside, we moved on towards Moab, a cute hiking/adventure town, filled with young hikers and kayakers. We stopped at the subway for a quick, healthy lunch. After days of fried, full fat food in the South, we thought we better start to reverse the effects as we were getting closer to California! Unfortunately everyone had the same idea as we waited in a long, long line to get a sandwich. Trying to be healthy cost us valuable time! We took off and made it to the Arches National Park around 2PM. This park was different than Monument valley; it was the home to over 2000 sandstone arches. The most famous one is Delicate Arch. Since we were on a time limit, we did a drive around the park and had to pass up any hiking. The park was beautiful and well worth a stop.

For all photos of Arches National Park – click here!

We decided to stay off the un-scenic interstate and instead take the scenic byways as long as the weather looked good. We were going to be driving through mountain passes, and even though it was April, we still had to keep any eye on an storms.

The drives in this area of Utah were gorgeous. Desert land with amazing rock formations, rivers and colorful canyons. We wove in and out of river valleys and finally arrived at Scenic Byway 12 in Utah. This road led us to Bryce Canyon and through a couple of mountain passes and on the corner of Staircase-Escalante National Park. The weather around the mountain looked grey and dismal. The wind was cold and we wondered if we should be going through the pass, but the visitor center said that it was all clear. They went on to tell us that Scenic Byway 12 was the most beautiful drive that we could take. I chuckled to myself thinking of all of the times we’ve been told a particular route or restaurant or park was the ‘best’. They can’t all be the best, but Americans are proud, and everyone is proud of their area. Sometimes I want to tell these people who make ‘the best’ statements that maybe they should get out a bit more, or simply get a passport. Oops, sorry, I got off track. Regardless, when someone says something is the ‘best’, then we might as well check it out – you never know maybe they are right!

The sun had started to go down, but we took off up the pass. Little did we know what we were getting ourselves into.
Click to Enlarge:

It was one of the most beautiful drives of our whole trip. We drove in and out of snow and a storm. Every corner something new; deer, snow, wild turkeys, forests of birch trees, breath-taking vistas, views of mountains, and deep canyons. The road actually took us on a ridge through Staircase-Escalante National Park that felt as if we were driving on a ribbon. On both side were steep drop offs into the colorful canyon, and the road was built on this little ridge of canyon that wound through the landscape – it felt like a cartoon of sorts. The sun was perfect for lighting up the canyon for photography. Thank goodness we got such a late start else we never would have had this amazing light.

We drove all the way to Tropic that night. Tropic is a small town of 508 people located about 10 miles from the entrance to Bryce Canyon which we decided to do the next morning. We pulled into Tropic and quickly got a cheap hotel room as I begged the young boy behind the counter to give us the very best deal he could. The guy was dressed rather preppy hip; a bit stunning for a town this size. He luckily took pity on me and after quite a bit of internal moral debate with himself, he decided to throw caution to the wind and give us a Friend and Family discount. Now I clearly wasn’t his family – but I was fast becoming his friend! He looked at me and said, “What the hell, I’m leaving soon anyway. I don’t care if my boss catches it.” I asked him why he was leaving and he said that he went to school/university in Denver and was going back there shortly because he couldn’t stand it here any longer; this is where he grew up. As I listened to him, I looked out the window and noticed the stunning mountains and countryside that surrounded us. I thought, how could anyone hate this? Although, I completely understand where he’s coming from – it is a rather small town. Why is it that we take for granted the things that we grew up around? We always seem to be on some quest for something ‘better’ or bigger. However, every year I get older, I realize that I am slowly trying to get back to where I started in some way…a more simple, quiet life. I find that I appreciate the ‘old’ way of doing things more and more. Aging is really a weird process sometimes. I do hope the kid didn’t get in trouble though!

Photo: Photographer at Bryce Canyon
We received the discount and the key and we sped off to the only restaurant in town that was still open. After all, it was 8PM on a Sunday night in a small town…it was lucky that we found anything open. We went to the pizza place and sat down. When our waiter came by, we asked him for a couple of beers. That’s when we received the oh-so-familiar hesitation and look of pity followed by “I’m so sorry ladies, but we don’t serve beer or alcohol here.” Damn Utah!!!!! How can a place so beautiful be so cruel?! However, our waiter did offer us a solution to our addiction problem…no, not crystal meth…instead he said that we could go to the package store and buy beer and bring it back in to have with our pizza if we drank it in a glass. His theory was that it looked like apple juice. You gotta love the ingenuity. This whole town was about breaking the rules…I love it! Kathleen hopped back in the car to run to the package store and I ordered a pizza. Unfortunately, the package store was closed too…we were doomed in this state. We were left with real apple juice.

The next morning we got an early start as we had to cover both Bryce, Zion, and make our way to Las Vegas for a drink! We drove into Bryce Canyon and I wondered to myself…”how can this park be any different than the other Utah parks we’ve already seen? I mean really…a rock is a rock.” We stopped at the first viewing point inside the park and were surprised when we looked down in a orange, rock canyon filled with pinnacles of rock jutting up from the valley below. Ok – I guess I was wrong…this was yet another different kind of rock formation. What made Bryce even more beautiful was the fact that it was covered with snow and evergreen trees. This provided a palette of dark green, stark white, orange canyon, and blue sky – crisp and breathtaking. With the snow came some of the coldest temperatures we had experienced so far on our Road Trip. We’d get out of the car and run to the overlook, take pictures and run back in to the warm car!
Click to Englarge Photos of Bryce:

We had to keep our visit to Bryce short so that we could move on to Zion National Park. Many say that Zion is their favorite park in Utah, and once again I found myself thinking “What in the world could be so different about this Utah park?” We entered Zion through the ‘back door’ (from the East) and was once again amazed by what we saw; huge rock formation/mountains with evergreens dotting the bare rock. The formations were massive and often carved out in intricate designs by the wind. We stopped and took some time in Zion doing the little free shuttle tour in order to see more of the park. There seems to be some amazing hiking in Zion, yet we did have to forgo that as Vegas was beckoning us.
Click to enlarge photos of Zion:

We drove into Vegas around 7PM. I find that one of the great things to do in your lifetime is to drive into Vegas. Most people fly in and out of Vegas, but there is something nostalgic about driving out of the barren dessert (and barren, non-alcoholic Utah) into the sinful inferno of Vegas. Enticing you to get closer and be naughty. After 4 days in Utah, I fell in love with the landscape, but the lack of booze had taken its toll! We stayed at the far end of the strip utilizing Kathleen’s Hilton points, handed the keys to the valet and went straight to the pool bar for a beer…let he sinning begin!

Road Trippin USA – Vol. 13

Sherry — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 17:10:15 +0000

Monument Vally, Utah

The Beehive-less state

As we traveled across the country we noted some of our favorite state mottos and nicknames.
Some were rather obvious:
Tennessee – The Volunteer State
Kentucky – The Bluegrass State
Texas – The Lone Star State
Arizona – The Grand Canyon State
California – The Golden State

Some were a bit less obvious – you had to use your imagination a bit:
Arkansas – The Natural State
Virginia – Old Dominion
New Mexico – Land of Enchantment

Then there is the one that made absolutely no sense to me at all:
Utah – The Beehive State

We saw many things in Utah worth noting. Utah has some of the most stunning landscapes I’ve ever set eyes on. It had geological rock formations that were mind boggling. As we traveled the backroads and national parks of Utah for 2 days, we personally saw many different types of wildlife such as deer, elk, turkeys, mules, and even ostriches. But not once….never ….did we see a bee, let alone a beehive. Hell, I didn’t even see anyone selling honey. We were utterly baffled as to why Utah’s state motto was ‘The Beehive State’! I personally thought the Utah motto should have been “The non-Alcoholic State”, or it could even be called “The Mormon State”…but bees…that’s absurd. I really didn’t even see any flowers!

The Grand Canyon was stunning, but Utah took my breath away. As we drove over the state line from Arizona to Utah from the south east corner, we immediately entered an area called Monument Valley. It was quite a welcome into Utah as random orange colored rock formations stood tall in the middle of flat desert land. It reminded me of Southern Thailand with huge rock formations jutting out of the water, but instead – this was the desert – something I had never really encountered before. We decided to stop pay to get a closer look. Here’s some trivia, Monument Valley has been the setting for more Western movies than any other site in the United States. The unique sandstone formations, the Navajo Indian Nation and the Four Corners Monument define this vast, open desert region. Monument Valley is not a national park, instead, it is located on a Navajo Indian reservation, however at a cost of $5 a person, the Monument Valley drive was still worth the admission! However, it is not recommended that you eat prior to taking the ‘scenic drive’ around the monuments – else you may need a barf bag. The road is not paved (not really sure what they are doing with that $5 a person – but it’s not going to roads), it’s gravel and not very well maintained. At least we had a Jeep Cheroke, however the people in the 4 door sedan didn’t fare as well – it was really slow going for them. Kathleen of course loved the dirt road as it brought back memories of 4 wheelin’ for her! I decided that the road was really only fun for the driver…not the passenger.

Photo: This is no Bee…
It was a 17 mile drive around the valley and we even spotted mountain goats, sheep, and wild horses…but for the record, no bees were found. The orangish color of the rock formations against the blue sky was beautiful – a great introduction into the beauty of Utah.

Our stop for the night was Monticello, Utah – a small town of 2,000 people at an altitude of 6000+ ft. Why Monticello? It is where Kathleen’s step-mom, Barb, lived…that’s right…time to start mooching off family members for accommodation! When we arrived there it was nice to know that we were staying put for a day. Actually sleeping in the same bed for two nights in a row sounded like heaven. I went with Kathleen and did the relative rounds – meeting her step-family all over town. The town had an amazing view of the mountains, was cozy, and it even had a large horse shoe park. Who needs baseball when you have a horse-shoe pit?

The next morning we woke up to a sight that I wasn’t expecting to see again for months…snow. Yes, snow in mid April. Good thing we had nowhere to be as it ended up snowing and blowing all day. That morning Barb’s mother came over to hold a ‘cooking class’ for Kathleen and me. We had to get up early because Vincente was teaching us how to make eggs with green chilis and homemade tortillas…yum! A good, hearty breakfast for a snowy April morning! Vincente was a breath of fresh air. At 81 yrs she had spunk and creativity like I only hope I can have when I’m her age! She showed up wearing a little apron that said Torres Tortillas.com; a hand-stitched gift from a friend. I don’t think that Vincente has ever even used a website, so it was cute to see her wearing the apron. We sat around in our pajamas watching it snow and eating fresh tortillas and green chilis…all in all, a pretty good morning! The day continued on in a lazy non site-seeing fashion with movies and card games. It was a nice break from being on the road.

Our final push to the coast remained ahead of us. After a day of rest and belly full of tortillas and chilis, we were ready to go experience the rest of the parks in Utah – on a quest to fine those famous Utah bees!

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