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| Grizzly mama & three cubs - Alaska |
Early in my
marriage, road trips were predominantly the way my husband and I traveled. Since we made a few moves across country,
much of the car journeys involved packing up the kids and seeing family in
other states, getting to know the areas in which we settled, and taking
advantage of the freedom traveling by car (and mini-van, and SUV) brought us.
Fortunately, my husband enjoyed being behind the wheel, and I was content to
let him take it. I prefer looking at the
surroundings and absorbing as much as possible (a lot of what I write comes
from being able to do this, especially if I’m listening to music).
As with most
things, there are always hiccups that find and surprise you, sort of like potholes
as soon as you hit one. Whether it’s
forgetting to pack those extra shoes, remembering something you didn’t do, or
taking the wrong exit (we relied on road maps until recently), it jars you. But it happens to be those little occurrences,
memorable or forgettable (depending on the point of view) that add to the
trips. While I’m a “it’s time to fill-up even though I still have half a tank”
kind of gal, my husband enjoys living life on the edge and sliding in at the
gas pumps on that last gasp of fumes, then looking at me with defiant eyes,
saying “made it”.
One particular
event many years ago caused neither one of us to speak to each other for quite
a while, and that’s hard to do when you’re confined in a moving vehicle for
hours on end. About sixty miles after
making a pit stop, I glanced down at my hands and my engagement ring was
missing. Saying I panicked was an
understatement, and I remembered taking it off in the ladies’ washroom when we
last stopped. So back we went, retracing
those sixty miles. Once there, I jumped
from the car and reached into my pocket for no particular reason. Facial expressions give much away, and mine
were obviously loaded. “In your pocket?”
he asked. “Yep,” I mumbled, slinking
back in. I don’t remove the rings
anymore. Stone cold silence and a wasted
120 miles will do it.
That incident was
brought to mind recently with something similar though. I thought I’d lost the lens cap to a new (and
expensive) camera lens until I remembered “the ring”; panic, worry about
retracing steps (in the dark this time around), then the light bulb
moment. Pocket! The back one this time. I didn’t even have to tell him, as we
continued traveling down the highway. I
smiled a little with relief.
My camera has caused
a few memorable travel incidents. I
wouldn’t have believed one had I not seen the evidence; it will forever be
affectionately referred to as “the bird incident”. On one excursion, I wanted to get a few
quick shots of something, so my husband pulled into a parking lot and waited
for me. There is much debate as to who
was at fault with this one: me for leaving the car door open, him for looking
down at his cell phone. I suppose that
the phone wouldn’t have prevented what came at him, but how was I supposed to
know that a seagull wanted to take a ride in the car? I was gone mere minutes,
but when I returned I was greeted by my husband, wild eyed, wiping his brow
with one hand, while wiping the dashboard with the other. Fortunately, he had more than one
handkerchief; all of the spare napkins in the car were used as well.
His account of the
incident included many words, some of which were: minding his own business,
looking at cell phone, foot on brake, swooped in, attacked, never put it in
park, accidentally stepped on accelerator, then slammed on brake, choked by
seatbelt, Alfred Hitchcock movie, you left the door open, why did you leave the
door open, crazed bird, bird blank everywhere, thought I was going to die. I’m pretty sure profanities were intermixed
and woven through these fragments of expressions, too. Sometimes the bird gods give us laughter, I
just regret my camera was turned elsewhere at the time.
We have spent
hours on the road trying to find (and succeeding) an obscure cemetery that’s
part of a ghost town in the middle of Illinois cornfields so I could write
about it; finding and observing wild horses in New Mexico for research (again
for my books and photography); breathing wild fire smoke and seeing the devastation
it caused; enduring an outlandish stop in Connecticut that my daughter can
fondly recount verbatim; fourth of July in Boston (the best city to celebrate
the holiday in my opinion); driving over so many mountain passes in this
beautiful country (accompanied by colorful commentary from my mouth during
these spine-tingling journeys); seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time made
me cry (the sheer beauty of it is overwhelming); the same happens whenever I visit
the Lincoln Memorial in Washington (even though I’ve seen it numerous times); city
lights and urban areas; rural towns and natural settings; desolate terrain and
lush beauty; extreme poverty and enormous wealth.
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| Sea otter - Glacier Bay National Park - Alaska |
Our travels have
allowed us to see many things, and it obviously hasn’t always been by the road;
planes, trains and automobiles have figured equally. In May, the views for both of us came via a
cruise ship to Alaska that offered some of the most stunning vistas
imaginable. It also provided special
glimpses of wildlife in their natural habitat: a grizzly bear and her three
cubs wandering along the shore, herds of mountain goats grazing on the slopes,
a pod of orcas, humpback whales, sea lions, dolphins, dozens of sea otters
(many carrying their babies), bald eagles everywhere and ravens (hearing one
screech is rather startling).
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| Orcas - Alaska (from the distance I initially thought dolphins) |
Visiting Alaska
meant one more thing to us: it was an accomplishment. We have now traveled to all fifty states in
this country. Yes, all of those little
side trips, jumping in the car and driving trips, hitting the road and going
trips have added up. I have been asked
more than once: which state is my
favorite? My answer would be: many. I think it’s easier to answer which states I
like the least but I won’t offer that here. Some have wondered where we’d like to go
next. I’d say seeing things we’ve
missed, visiting more national parks, and doing much more international travel. Of course, revisiting the places we love.
Wherever we head,
I’ll have my camera, take my notes for research, daydream, observe, and brace
myself for those surprises that make memories.
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| Rainbows changed and reappeared within minutes - Alaska |
