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Chincoteague is less than two hours from our home, and yet we had never visited. So we drove down the day after Labor Day, with Hurricane Dorian looming at the end of the week. We are already planning to return. Chincoteague is a throwback to childhood days at the beach. You have to forgive the tacky wooden billboards, one after the other, anchored in the marsh (oy) as you travel the long causeway onto the island. There are no golf courses, no trendy restaurants, no outlets, no Grotto’s. These are all positives, in our book. There are spectacular sunsets, endless waterfront views, many casual eateries and food trucks, and friendly people. There is a beautiful beach at Assateague National Seashore, featuring a translucent green Atlantic (not that brown, turbid one), wildlife trails teeming with birds, and the famous wild ponies. The entire town and refuge are bicycle-friendly. I rode from our room at Comfort Suites on Main Street to the refuge, lapped the Wildlife Loop, and then returned along boardwalks, bike lanes and trails nursing a flat tire. I immediately wanted to find a shack along the channel and pen that undefined, amorphous . . . novel? spiritual memoir? travelogue? […]
There are a few places on earth where I feel like my soul is at home. Where the psychic roots run deep, my DNA is buzzing contentedly, and I always feel a welcome familiarity no matter how long I have been gone. One of those places is the Texas Hill Country, land of my mother’s clan and a rocky, rolling landscape of cedar, winding creeks and limestone bungalows. The other, oddly, is Pittsburgh – a city I have not lived in since 1966. The domestic memories are not good ones; my father cheated and was cruel to my sister and me. When I lived there, my mother would drive downtown on the Parkway, through the Squirrel Hill Tunnel and past the dreary Jones and Laughlin steel plant where I was always fascinated by the near-vertical conveyer belt hauling iron ore. All dressed up, we went shopping at Kaufman’s, Horne’s and Gimbel’s. None of them, nor the steel plant, exists today. Return to Kennywood I have been back a few times, even revisiting my second-grade classroom in Wilkinsburg and having beers after school with Miss O’Nan, a strict disciplinarian whose creative punishments were branded in my memory. Teachers were larger than […]
Throughout the pandemic, we have observed a range of behaviors from people our age. I know a grandma just recently recovered from breast cancer who flies out west to visit loved ones and travels regularly with her significant other. Another couple who regularly entertain the unvaccinated grandkids and have taken multiple Road Scholar trips. An urban couple who have remained in virtual lockdown the entire time — no haircuts, Instacart and takeout only. She would chide us just for going to the grocery store, even though we always went at 6 a.m. and masked up. This is the couple with whom we made plans to rent a home in the Finger Lakes this week. We all enthusiastically agreed to the trip in May when life was looking up, “normalcy” was creeping back, and I briefly appeared in the grocery store without a mask. We had been to the Finger Lakes before with this couple, and it was a mostly pleasant experience of eating, drinking wine and driving around. But because I was observed in a Facebook group photo maskless, because Sue dared to celebrate her 75th birthday with family members, and because we entertained an “unvaccinated child” (also known as […]
NOTE: Please see a portfolio of our Quebec photos. Part One of three parts At 6:30 a.m., we heard a rustling at our hotel door. Was someone trying to break in? Tentatively, we peered out. Hanging on the door was a wicker picnic basket. It was breakfast! Croissants, patisseries, yogurt, glass bottles of orange juice, cheese, and fruit. Amazed, I went down to the lounge of the Hotel du Vieux-Quebec to get the free 24-hour-a-day cafe au lait. Quebec City was a steady stream of pleasant surprises: . . . Turning a corner and encountering a sweeping view of ships on the St. Lawrence River, or the massive Chateau Frontenac, or the historic Place Royale, or the colorful Rue de Petit-Champlain, or a three-story wall painted with a Quebecois fresco, or Louis XIV (the Sun King) playfully encapsulated inside a snow globe. . . . Realizing how much buying power we had, with one Canadian dollar equaling .76 US dollars. Not one to do math in my head, I came home wishing we had bought more of everything. . . . Being cheerfully offered 20 different flavors of hot chocolate in a chocolaterie; we chose 70% noir. Trying foods I had never considered before: […]
The two great-grandkids, 9 and 6, had a wonderful time. I have to get that out of the way. As a mature adult, I realize that 85% of this trip was about the kids having a wonderful time. And they did. Did I mention that? They did not, however, know what was going on behind the scenes at the Happiest Place on Earth. So here is where I say, to parents and grandparents, please consider dropping $10,000 over six days somewhere else. Or spending half of that amount in some wondrous, non-artificial scenic someplace like Yellowstone or the Grand Canyon or the Blue Ridge Mountains. The selfish grownup in me couldn’t help but think of the Viking cruise or trip to Galapagos that coulda, shoulda, woulda. For Sue and I to go from relative isolation for two years to throngs of maskless people inside stores, restaurants and theaters was very jarring. Also, it hovered near 90 degrees every day. I got tested the day after I returned, figuring that if I tested negative (which I did), the COVID era was behind me. As I mentioned, I watched 35-40 video blogs about the parks, food in the parks, rides in the […]
There are a few places on earth where I feel like my soul is at home. Where the psychic roots run deep, my DNA is buzzing contentedly, and I always feel a welcome familiarity no matter how long I have been gone. One of those places is the Texas Hill Country, land of my mother’s clan and a rocky, rolling landscape of cedar, winding creeks and limestone bungalows. The other, oddly, is Pittsburgh – a city I have not lived in since 1966. The domestic memories are not good ones; my father cheated and was cruel to my sister and me. When I lived there, my mother would drive downtown on the Parkway, through the Squirrel Hill Tunnel and past the dreary Jones and Laughlin steel plant where I was always fascinated by the near-vertical conveyer belt hauling iron ore. All dressed up, we went shopping at Kaufman’s, Horne’s and Gimbel’s. None of them, nor the steel plant, exists today. Return to Kennywood I have been back a few times, even revisiting my second-grade classroom in Wilkinsburg and having beers after school with Miss O’Nan, a strict disciplinarian whose creative punishments were branded in my memory. Teachers were larger than […]
Maybe not everyone thinks of pairing bird-watching with African-American history. Well, we do. And near Cambridge, Maryland, you can do just that. We recently spent a spring day visiting the Harriet Tubman Underground Railroad National Historical Park in rural Dorchester County, Md., followed by a drive through Blackwater National Wildlife Refuge. The trip was about 60 miles from our home in Sussex County, Delaware, on two-lane roads past farm fields, marshes and tiny towns. One of my educational goals is re-learning American history without the sanitizing filter we viewed it through in public school. So I was a little embarrassed to be only vaguely aware that Harriet Tubman lived as a slave and practiced her heroism in Delaware’s backyard. In fact, we live in the slave-holding portion of Delaware – one of three states that voted against Abraham Lincoln in 1864. While Delaware overall is a very blue state, the rural portion we live in is not. The Harriet Tubman Monument was created by President Obama under the Antiquities Act on March 25, 2013. The portion of the monument administered by the National Park Service was later designated a National Historical Park in 2014. The building we visited opened in 2017. It’s […]
Chincoteague is less than two hours from our home, and yet we had never visited. So we drove down the day after Labor Day, with Hurricane Dorian looming at the end of the week. We are already planning to return. Chincoteague is a throwback to childhood days at the beach. You have to forgive the tacky wooden billboards, one after the other, anchored in the marsh (oy) as you travel the long causeway onto the island. There are no golf courses, no trendy restaurants, no outlets, no Grotto’s. These are all positives, in our book. There are spectacular sunsets, endless waterfront views, many casual eateries and food trucks, and friendly people. There is a beautiful beach at Assateague National Seashore, featuring a translucent green Atlantic (not that brown, turbid one), wildlife trails teeming with birds, and the famous wild ponies. The entire town and refuge are bicycle-friendly. I rode from our room at Comfort Suites on Main Street to the refuge, lapped the Wildlife Loop, and then returned along boardwalks, bike lanes and trails nursing a flat tire. I immediately wanted to find a shack along the channel and pen that undefined, amorphous . . . novel? spiritual memoir? travelogue? […]
Our camping experiences date to Girl Scouts and, for me, a few miserable outings in high school. That was quite awhile ago. But we thought trying again might be an antidote to my desire for a small RV. The two-night outing to Trap Pond State Park near Laurel, Delaware, was only about 25 miles from our house. We would not starve. We could try out some of the delights of camping, such as walking to the bathhouse and lighting a propane stove, without feeling stranded. We decided to reserve a yurt, of which there are two at Trap Pond. The rate was $40 a night before Memorial Day. “Yurts are a fun and easy alternative to pitching a tent yourself, but still allow you to experience the rustic feel of camping outdoors. Perfect for the new camper!” the Delaware State Parks website promised. We had bought the Coleman stove, sleeping bags, camp chairs, table and some other essentials – but no tent yet. I know this isn’t a trek up Mount Everest, but it is a bit of an adventure if you have never done it by yourself before and you are 62 and 71, respectively. I was amazed at […]
Please see our New Mexico photo gallery. The last stop on our RoadScholar tour of Albuquerque, Taos and Santa Fe was another kiva – this one at Coronado Historic Site in the Albuquerque suburb of Bernalillo. A kiva is a sacred room within an Indian pueblo, where religious rites are performed. This visit required climbing up one ladder and down another one into the underground chamber; only 13 of us at a time. The room included reproductions of pre-Columbian murals that were discovered along with the remains of the pueblo. Unlike the many other remote historic and sacred sites we had visited this one was surrounded by a golf course and a lot of suburban traffic. We had had a big lunch, we were tired, we were hot, we were thirsty. In short, we were kiva’d out. This trip to New Mexico was our first RoadScholar trip and second bus tour. This tour is a popular one, and there were 34 members of our group. You could see looks of horror on customers’ faces as our bus pulled up to a small, rural restaurant – although the staffs were used to the onslaught and handled it efficiently. RoadScholar is geared toward […]
NOTE: Please see a portfolio of our Quebec photos. Part Two of three parts The accordion player ambled through the chalet-like dining room, belting out Quebecois folk songs as we played along with sets of spoons. We were in a cabane a sucre, or sugar shack, on the Ile d’Orleans next door to Quebec City. Especially in the spring, the sugar shack is a venerable cultural tradition sticky with sirop d’erable – the ubiquitous maple syrup. We were waiting for our dessert – pancakes and syrup – after a family-style spread of pea soup, ham, potatoes, meat pie and beans. We were strongly encouraged to pour maple syrup on everything. This day was about food and drink, and lots of it. I willed my stomach to stop whining and expand. Any trip to Quebec City should include a day on the Ile d’Orleans and lunch at a sugar shack, where maple syrup is tapped and turned into all kinds of products. The Ile d’Orleans is an agritourism hub adjacent to Quebec City. The island supplies wine, breads, cassis, cheese, foie gras, fresh fruit and maple syrup to its urban neighbors. It is reminiscent of the Finger Lakes region in upstate New York – villages, vineyards, […]
Please see trip photographs on our portfolio site and video at end of post. We could hear the Colorado River long before we actually saw it, the relentless clash of water and rocks. We were descending Cathedral Wash, a puzzle of multiple levels of ledges and drop-offs, including one called The Pit. Many of us agreed that we would have turned around when we came to the first outcropping we had to scramble up onto and inch around – with The Pit yawning below. But we had two experienced female guides who knew which route to pick. We were mostly over 60, we had been hiking all week with Road Scholar, and Cathedral Wash was the grand finale. It was in Marble Canyon, the precursor to the Grand Canyon, and rated “difficult” in All Trails. The closer we got to the river, the wilder the jumble of boulders strewn across our path – coughed up during the flash floods of monsoon season. Finally, we made it to the river, where the view opened up and we watched rafts float by that had just left Lee’s Ferry to begin their Grand Canyon odyssey. We ate our lunches, took pictures, and climbed […]
We are going to Walt Disney World in Orlando in February 2022. I thought I better start sharing my experiences helping to plan this trip. In the year 2000, Sue and I took the grandkids – Shelby and Ryan – to Walt Disney World. Yes, there was a spreadsheet involved, but all in all it was a simpler time. Sue acted mostly as sherpa holding on to our stuff and collecting Fast Passes because “Pirates of the Caribbean” was as wild a ride as she could stomach. Fast forward to 2022. Sue is 75 and I am 65. We are tagging along on granddaughter Shelby’s trip later this month to Orlando with two great-grandkids. At first, I bought the most recent Unofficial Guide to Walt Disney World, as I had in 2000. Especially with daily changes at the parks due to COVID, the book quickly became a 20th-century anachronism, although it makes a great paperweight. When you book a trip through Disney, you can immediately access your reservation on the My Disney Experience Mobile App. So, based on serious exploration of the app, the 30-plus YouTube videos I have already watched, and the endless blog posts I have perused, I […]