One morning earlier this month, I woke with butterflies in my stomach, feeling as I did on the first day of school. Nervous energy and more than a little excitement coursed through my body while questions bounced around my brain. Would I make new friends? Would I learn something? Was my backpack properly stocked? Was I wearing the right clothes? Would the people in charge be good at their jobs?
Nearly every summer my parents drive from their home in North Carolina to my brother’s in Colorado. Taking major highways would mean about 1800 miles of white-knuckle driving beside huge trucks. Nearly identical rest areas would blend together in one’s memories and the trip would be solely about the destination. Fortunately, my parents don’t take that sort of road trip. No, they take minor roads and detours that allow for
Slow travel is the best form of travel. Getting somewhere quickly has its appeal but if I have the time and there’s a reasonable overland route, I almost always prefer that to flying. So since arriving back in the mainland U.S., I’ve traveled long distances solely by train and car. First from New York to Massachusetts, then from Massachusetts to North Carolina, and finally from North Carolina to Colorado. I’m
Something frustrating happened during my first week in Maui that means (1) I don’t have as many photos as I’d like of my dives in Hawaii over the last two weeks and (2) I’ll have to go shopping before my next dives. My camera flooded. As best I can tell, it’s now completely useless. Fortunately, I got a number of shots before that happened and had the GoPro for a
When this trip began eighteen months ago, I had no idea it would include two weeks in Maui with friends made at the start of the trip in Utila. But when one of those friends got a job here and suggested I come visit, I couldn’t pass it up. Especially when we started to discuss timing and realized that another of our friends would be coming through at the same
“What’s your favorite part of the course?” “I call it the Gauntlet. It’s three challenges in a row: two crazy log ones and what we call the Indiana Jones bridge. You can’t miss it in the final course.” The staff member assigned to monitor the third of five courses looked no more than 19 and had the air of someone whose body had yet to balk at any obstacle he
Jen and I have left New England for a while so before we left, we played tourist in our own backyard. This is the first of our posts on local sight-seeing. We couldn’t play tourist every weekend – we still had friends to see, laundry to do, a yard that refused to take care of itself, and a travel account to fund. And some things we did just weren’t worth