Articles tagged with: travel

Paris, the Start of Our European Vacation

Date: March 30, 2021 Author: admin Comments: Leave a reply

European Vacation to France, Italy, and Spain

In 2008, my wife Mary, three daughters, and I went on a Mediterranean cruise, our first trip to Europe. At the time, the cruise made sense for us. Meals, lodging, and many language issues were taken care of for us. We’d sign up for a tour, arrive in port, and follow around a guide holding up a flag. What could be easier? It was a wonderful, but a bit touristy trip, and we vowed to visit Europe again.

We finally got around to it in May, 2019. Thank goodness we did it before start of the pandemic in 2020. For our second time to Europe, Mary and I didn’t want to do it like the first. We decided to so it in a more challenging way, no cruises, packages, or tours, just us having to find our next meal and how to get to our next destination. We wanted to immerse ourselves in the experience and have to communicate along the way, even though we knew almost no French, Italian, or Spanish.

On our 18 day trip, we covered a lot, visiting Paris, Venice, Matera, Cinque Terre, Tossa de Mar, and Barcelona. Our transportation included: 8 flights, three boat rides, 14 trains, 16 buses, 21 metro/subway rides, and one car ride. We also walked many, many miles. As avid hikers, we liked that part. This blog only covers Paris, but I’ll get to our other stops soon.

Paris, France

Our walking started with 10.5 miles our first night in Paris. Actually, that story started a little earlier, in the Iceland airport. During our five-hour layover at Reykjavik airport, we came upon two close friends of ours who now live 1800 miles away from us. What a coincidence to run into them in Iceland! Not only that, but they turned out to be on our flight to Paris, sitting directly behind us. They had a hotel booked in the center of things, near Notre Dame. Our hotel sat a 1.5 mile Metro/subway ride away, in a lower rent district, so we agreed to meet at 7 pm in front of Notre Dame. Unfortunately, the major fire a few weeks earlier meant we could not see the inside.

We met our friends and started a long walk along the Seine River, past one incredible building after another, such as Sainte Chappelle, the Louvre, d’Orsay, Grand Palais, and many more. The river itself provides much to watch, with a variety of boat traffic going up and down the river. A lot of activity takes place on the walkways along the river too, including countless vendors, cafes, and walkers like us.

We crossed the historic Pont Alexandre III bridge, with a popular café below, and made our way to Paris’s most famous street, des Champ-Elysees, where we ate at a busy restaurant with exorbitant prices, like $40 for duck liver pate, an appetizer. Maybe I’m just cheap. Anyway, our walk continued all the way to the Arc de Triomphe, a 164’ high arch where you can find fantastic views from the top.

By the time we made our way back to Notre Dame, our friends’ app said we’d walked nine miles. Mary and I headed for the Metro, for our 1.5 mile ride to our hotel. The doors were locked! It turns out the Metro doesn’t run late at night, so we walked through dark streets and alleys arriving at our hotel in the early hours of the morning.

The Solar Hotel turned out to be a nice place to stay, as long as the Metro was running. For breakfast each morning, the hotel served coffee, croissants, rolls, and jams. Instead of a supermarket, our neighborhood had a whole variety of individual shops for meat, cheese, wine, fresh produce, and a bakery with delicious pastries and pastries. It was wonderful to see friendly people with small businesses succeeding. In the US, so much of what we buy is from large corporations. Visiting a variety of small shops also gave us a lot of opportunity to practice what little French we know, and most Parisians we met were quite friendly and patient.

We found the most useful French words to be bonjour, oui, and merci.

Jetlag

Our sleep schedules were seriously out of whack, but we didn’t want to sleep the day away. I woke up groggy and fumbled with our pill bottle. Instead of taking Levothyroxine a small white pill that’s supposed to increase my energy level, I accidentally took my wife’s melatonin, a small white pill that helps people sleep. That morning, I stumbled around like a total zombie!

Montmarte and Sacre Couer

Navigating the subway system challenged us, as we struggled to get on the right trains and get off at the right stops, especially that morning of Melatonin. When stops were announced over the speakers, we were amazed how many of them sounded nothing like the way they’re spelled. Guess how you pronounce Aubervilliers – Pantin – Quatre Chemins.

We did manage to find our way to the Montmartre neighborhood, a charming place with shops, artists, street-side cafés, and Sacre Couer, one of many Catholic churches we visited on our trip. Most of the churches we visited are much older, so the architecture of Sacre Couer (opened 1914) is quite different but quite beautiful with large domes.

Sainte Chappelle and the Louvre

Sainte Chappelle (opened 1248), another of Paris’s famous churches, has 1113 scenes depicted in its incredible stained glass windows.

The Louvre, the largest art museum in the world, is quite incredible. To see everything might take days, so we devoted one day and decided to wander until we’d had enough. The paintings and sculptures are amazing, but the building itself was almost more impressive to me. In fact, in many places we visited, I was amazed by the stonework and the fact that these buildings had lasted for centuries. I wonder how many modern buildings will last that long. Every 20 years, our houses seem to need new siding, roofing, and most components.

Leaving Paris

We enjoyed Paris a great deal, but it is a big city with a lot of people. We live in a quiet place in the foothills of the North Cascades. After our three days, we felt ready to move on to Venice, another beautiful, but smaller, city with a long and fascinating history.

Kayaking Desolation Sound

Date: January 28, 2018 Author: admin Comments: 2 Replies

For a profoundly satisfying experience, venture deep into nature and immerse yourself in her solitude. ~Curt Remington

The above words came to me while writing a speech about our trip to Desolation Sound. In this blog, my goal is to share our trip with you and to encourage you to venture into nature for your own profound experience.

Kayaking into Desolation Sound

Our kayaking adventure actually started with a very scenic drive and two ferries, bringing us to the northern end of British Columbia’s Sunshine Coast. In fact, we spent our first night in the historic Lund Hotel, across the street from a marker for the northernmost end of Highway 101, the longest highway in the world. The other end is 9312 miles south, in Castro Chile. Lund may be the end of the road, it is also the “gateway to Desolation Sound,” and a rest stop for boaters headed up the Inside Passage.

Lund Hotel in Lund, British Columbia

Leaving Civilization Behind

For us, Lund is where we left civilization behind, first thing the next morning. We stuffed containers filled with gear, food, and water into our kayak hatches, donned drysuits, sprayskirts and pfds, then paddled out past docks and boats. Lund is open to Georgia Strait and is fairly exposed to a westerly wind, and we definitely had a westerly wind that morning. The bow of my heavily loaded kayak occasionally plowed deep into a wave, sending a good deal of water up the deck and into my midsection, making me glad I had a drysuit.

My real concern was Mary. She is not a fan of big waves and wind, and she had been worried about what kind of conditions we might run into. This didn’t seem like a good way to start. I nervously kept an eye on her as she kept paddling onward, wide eyed and looking tense but handling her kayak well. She’s a much more competent kayaker than she gives herself credit for. After a few miles of hard work, we reached shelter behind the first of the Copeland Islands. What a difference!

Through the Copeland Islands, we hugged the shoreline, minimizing wind and getting an up-close view of the rocky shoreline, the evergreen forests, and the fascinating scenery below the water’s surface, where schools of minnows darted and jellyfish slowly swam in pulsating contractions.

By the time we reached the north end of the Copeland Islands, the wind had dropped significantly, and we’d only seen a few boats speed by. We started paddling more direct routes, crossing large expanses of open water as we made our way around Sarah Point, stopping for lunch at Feather Cove, and continued the last nine miles to the Curme Islands. Our direct route shaved off miles but also put us a considerable distance from the nearest shoreline. By the time we reached the Curme Islands, we’d covered about 15 miles, more than enough paddling for Mary in one day. I was so anxious to explore, that I set out and kayaked more, once we got camp set up, while Mary took a much-needed nap on the deck.

Curme Islands

As to our camp, we arrived on a Thursday, expecting serious competition for one of the nine campsites (deck platforms) on West Curme Island. Instead, the only other people on the island were one other couple and a very quiet and private single woman, in her own campsite. After the first night, the other couple left, leaving just three of us on the island. Eventually, the very solitary woman warmed up to us, at least a bit. I would bet she didn’t appreciate that we’d picked the campsite next to hers. We had chosen it based on the view, expecting the other campsites to fill up too. If we’d known it would just be the three of us, we would’ve gladly camped farther away from her. Oh well. We were quiet. She was quiet, and there was roughly 100 feet of trees and bushes between us. We really didn’t notice each other much.

One of the Curme Islands, across from our camp

By the way, the Curme Islands are beautiful. I have no idea why George Vancouver named the area Desolation Sound, unless he arrived at the most depressing point of a long winter. We had beautiful weather, stunning scenery, and apparently we’d arrived (late June) just before the crowds showed up.

Exploring Desolation Sound

On our trips, we often rush from place to place, trying to see as much as possible. In the Curme Islands, we stayed in one place for a few days and really started to relax, meditating and connecting with the beauty around us. We sat and watched the changing light on distant mountains and islands. We walked and kayaked around the nearby islands, encountering some of the wildlife, like eagles, seals, hummingbirds, red mergansers and seals. The water clarity was so good that we focused more on undersea life, including shiners, minnows, starfish, more jellyfish, crabs and lots of oysters. We had passed an area where humpback whales had been breaching, but they didn’t cooperate for us. When I did spot creatures underwater, I just set my waterproof camera on video and held it under my kayak, aimed in the right direction. While on the island, Mary took the camera and sat along the shore, watching and filming crabs and fish scurrying about in the shallows.

On day four, we paddled along Bold Head, into Tenedos Bay, lined with steep cliffs. At the end of the bay, we hiked up to Unwin Lake for a freshwater dip, rinsing a few days’ worth of salt off. We also restocked our fresh water, ending up with more than we needed.

With much more to explore, I set out alone that evening and paddled up a narrow channel between Bold Head and Otter Island, east of the Curme Islands. As I emerged from the channel, I looked beyond more islands to the east, up at the Canadian Coastal Mountains. The vastness and rugged beauty, with many inlets and passages to explore, beckoned me. We simply didn’t have time on this trip, and I knew Mary was probably watching for me anxiously. I turned my kayak back towards the Curme Islands and took gentle paddle strokes as I skirted Otter Island, watching for fish in the shallows.

Connecting with Nature

Our time in nature was truly rejuvenating, reminding me of a quote in my book, Simple Meditation.

In nature, we’re more aware of and are connected to our surroundings in an expansive way. Our senses open up to the damp smell of the forest, the cool breeze on our skin, the layer of pine needles beneath our feet and the orange and pink clouds of the sunset. Spending time in the outdoors connects you with the more primal you, the one that understands without analyzing. By making this connection, you can return to your usual environment more at peace and aware.

Copeland Islands

After a few days in the Curme Islands, it was time to leave. We broke camp early and started back towards Lund, however we decided to camp in the Copelands, breaking up the return paddle. Mary had no interest in another 15 mile day, and we both looked forward to a more relaxed pace. On North Copeland Island we pitched our tent on a south facing deck with spectacular island views and views of the distant mountains of Vancouver Island, to the west. Of the ten campsites, only one other was occupied, giving us a great deal of solitude. We felt incredibly blessed to have so much beauty to ourselves. After dinner, we hiked to the north end of the island to watch the changing water, as the tide filled channels and the stunning sunset painted the sky in shades of blue, turning to golds and shades of orange.

Sunset in the Copeland Islands, BC

Time to Go Home

On our drive home, we camped at Porpoise Bay Provincial Park, feeling reluctant to end our vacation. During the drive, I contemplated the many kayak destinations along the British Columbia coast. Desolation Sound is on the sheltered side of Vancouver Island, providing for calmer conditions, warmer water, and sunnier weather than the exposed west side of Vancouver Island. I definitely planned to return to Desolation Sound, to explore more of those areas we didn’t have time for. On our next BC kayak trip, I’d like to visit the wide open Pacific, like we did on our Oregon Coast trip.

We found our time in nature to be profoundly satisfying. If you plan to do some venturing too, the BC coast and Desolation Sound is a wonderful place to do it.

Beautiful Beaches on the Oregon Coast

Date: August 6, 2014 Author: admin Comments: 6 Replies

Beach Vacation Destinations

Beaches are a wonderful place to take a vacation! There’s the sunshine, sand, spectacular scenery, and soothing sounds of the ocean. We found all of those on the Oregon coast, along with some fascinating sights to visit.

For our last beach vacation, we visited Oahu, spending a day at famous Waikiki Beach in Honolulu. I couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be a lot less people at the Oregon Coast beaches, although they hold some distinct advantages over Waikiki. To give you a feel for what Oregon beaches are like, I provided some specific description of each, to help you decide on your next vacation destination.

Waikiki Beach, Honolulu, Hawaii

Waikiki Beach in Honolulu, Hawaii

The water is warm.
The weather is pretty consistently hot and sunny.
The beach consists of a narrow strip of sand with lots of people crowded together, so you won’t need to walk far.
Views include skyscrapers and shopping across the street.
Hawaii is a long, expensive flight from just about anywhere.

Uncrowded Beach Along the Oregon Coast

Oregon Coast Beaches

The water is refreshing. Okay, the water is damn cold, but this results in less competition for that big wave. From what I saw, you could get out your board and have lots of big waves to yourself.
There is a wonderful variety of weather, including mysterious fog, blasting wind, invigorating rain, and frequent sun, at least in summer. The cooler Oregon Coast temperatures provide the opportunity to make much better use of your wardrobe.
There are miles and miles of enormous white sand beaches with an occasional person visible off in the distance (well, maybe a few people). If you like space, solitude and walking, this is a good thing, however if you prefer plopping down on a beach and people watching, Waikiki has better opportunities.
Instead of skyscrapers and stores, views include spectacular rock formations, picturesque lighthouses, and crashing waves. If you’re looking for a Mai Tai or a Gucci bag, Waikiki definitely has the convenience advantage. On the other hand, if you like nature, Oregon is stunning.
I don’t know where you live, but the Oregon Coast is only a five-hour drive from my house.

Our Oregon Coast Vacation

Lounging on a beach and actually relaxing is not the kind of vacations that we do. Our vacations are goal-oriented, so we made our way down the coast and crammed in as many sights as we could see in six days. After a long drive down I-5 from Bellingham, we reached Fort Stevens State Park, near the northern end of the Oregon Coast Highway (US Route 101), which we would follow down the coast.

We had just enough time to set up camp and have dinner before our first beach walk. By we, I mean my wife Mary, daughter Heather, dog Riva, and of course myself. At the beach, we climbed a row of soft, white sand dunes and found an enormous expanse of flat beach extending along the coast for miles. Protruding from the sand sat the rusted remains of the Peter Iredale, a 285 foot sailboat that ran aground in 1906.

The next morning, we visited the Columbia River Maritime Museum in Astoria and learned that the area is known as “graveyard of the Pacific,” with at least 2000 large ships that have sunk in and around the Columbia Bar. A variety of conditions come together to make it such a hazard. The currents of the Columbia River, the largest North American River to feed into the Pacific, meet the ocean waves in the area of a shifting sand bar. These features can cause enormous waves to pile up here. The area also has roughly 200 days of fog per year, some of that wonderful variety of weather I mentioned above.

Naturally, these rugged conditions make an ideal training ground for the US Coast Guard’s Cape Disappointment school for rough weather and surf rescue. They venture out with small boats (47 foot motor lifeboats) into huge waves to develop skills which will help them rescue boaters elsewhere.

The Lightship Columbia

We also toured the Lightship Columbia, a 128 vessel that served as a floating lighthouse for 28 years, marking the entrance to the Columbia River. It has since been replaced by a 42 foot high buoy. A crew of 18 manned the ship, with much of their time spent in boredom, occasionally broken up by terrifying storms.

The Astoria area holds yet more history. Fort Clatsop, just outside of town, is where the Lewis and Clark Expedition spent a long, wet winter before making their way back east. We toured the fort and listened to a buckskin clad ranger describe life at the fort in 1805.

Bull elk in Ecola State Park, Oregon

Short on time, we skipped the Astoria Column, a tower with panoramic views overlooking the mouth of the Columbia River. Instead, we made our way down the coast to Ecola State Park and Cannon Beach. What a beautiful place! A blue hole opened up in the clouds, right over Crescent Beach, providing a highly desired photo opportunity. On the way down to the beach, we passed through a small herd of elk, grazing on tall grass. The bull watched us closely, making Mary very nervous, but he left us alone. That evening we camped at Nehalem State Park and walked across dunes to another enormous sand beach.

Curt, Mary & Riva on Cannon Beach, Oregon

Our action-packed day hadn’t left enough time for a close look at Cannon Beach and its sea stacks including the famous Haystack Rock. We backtracked to a lovely scene with sunshine burning off the morning fog, as waves crashed into the 235 foot high rock formation. By midday, we reached the Tillamook Cheese Factory, where you can sample a variety of free cheeses or buy a 28-scoop ice cream dish, one of each flavor. Three scoops seemed like plenty. Along with enormous beaches, the Oregon Coast has picturesque lighthouses. We visited two that afternoon, Cape Lookout and Cape Meares. At Cape Lookout, we even lounged on the beach for a few hours, like people tend to do on beach vacations.

In honor of my wife’s 50^th birthday, we splurged, checking into a hotel and venturing out to find an appropriate seafood restaurant for her birthday. We tried the hotel restaurant, but Mary concluded it looked too “Denny’s like” for her birthday. Next, we tried Pirate’s Cove, a quaint waterfront restaurant, ten miles up the coast. It looked ideal, but upon arrival, we learned that they rely on propane for cooking, and their propane had just run out. Next, we tried a seafood bar/restaurant halfway back to Tillamook. This one leaned more towards oysters, rather than the crab legs that Mary really wanted. An internet search ruled out a few more restaurants that were too expensive, too cheap, closed too early or otherwise weren’t suitable. We finally ended up at Pacific Restaurant, back in Tillamook. Dinner was good, as it probably would have been at any of the other restaurants too.

Cape Perpetua at Sunset, Oregon

After the hotel’s free breakfast, we started back down the coast, visiting more beaches, another lighthouse, and we arrived at Cape Perpetua in time to grab one of the last campsites. My campsite of choice sat down in the woods, with a stream running through it. Sure, there were a few bugs, not much sun, but a good deal of privacy. My wife and daughter overruled me and chose an open campsite along the road, with a lot more sun. As soon as we got our gear hauled down, we realized that the adjoining campers were extremely close, just on the other side of a narrow row of bushes. Their party included the whiniest three year-old I’ve ever heard, complaining to mom about everything. I just had to laugh! Even my daughter Heather joined in, probably irritating his parents. I’m sure they could hear us too. That evening we hiked to a 500 year old Sitka Spruce and watched a spectacular sunset over the Pacific.

Heceta Head Lighthouse, the last one of our trip, was the prettiest of all, perched on a rocky point with a beautiful beach and bridge immediately to the north. From there, we continued to Florence for lunch and shopping.

Heceta Head Lighthouse, Oregon

On our final evening, we camped at Jesse Honeymoon State Park, which adjoins the Oregon Dunes, the largest expanse of dunes in North America. They reach heights up to 500 feet and extend for 40 miles to the south. As sunset approached, I climbed up into the dunes, wandering, meditating, and shooting pictures. It seemed more as if I was in a vast desert, rather than on the Oregon Coast. Wind blasted through the dunes, and the tops were in a constant state of motion with sand gradually filling my tracks.

Oregon Dunes at Jesse Honeymoon State Park, Oregon

Your Next Trip

It was here, meditating in the dunes, that the contrast between the Oregon Coast and Waikiki occurred to me. If you appreciate the wonders of nature, enormous sand beaches and spectacular scenery, consider a trip to the Oregon Coast. On the other hand, if sunburn, crowds, and designer shopping are your thing, Waikiki may be a better bet.

Quick National Park Trip

Date: April 25, 2014 Author: admin Comments: Leave a reply

National Parks: Glacier, Yellowstone & Roosevelt

by Curt Remington

Monday, November 17th, 2008

Fantastic! I got recruited for an impromtu road trip to three national parks: Glacier, Yellowstone and Theodore Roosevelt. Along with that, I would see 3800 miles of our glorious country, visit my mother in Minnesota, move our daughter to Washington, and do it all in five days. Truth is, it was a trip to pick up my daughter, but I decided to squeeze in the national parks too. My schedule didn’t leave much times for the parks, so I planned to hit a few highlights in each, all at a whirlwind pace.

I set out from Bellingham, Washington on August 27th, taking a scenic route through the North Cascades. I could have just stayed on the freeway, but what’s a few more miles? I sure didn’t want to miss any potentially stunning pictures. In the Cascades, I saw some beautiful rivers, mountains and waterfalls, but the lighting just was just too overcast for great pictures. Once over the Cascades, I made a brief stop in Leavenworth, Washington, a scenic tourist town that looks like a Bavarian village. I filled up on bratwurst, visited a few quaint shops and moved on towards the Columbia River and eastern Washington.

Glacier Park

After dark that night, I made it to a campground in Glacier National Park and crawled into a sleeping bag in the back seat of my Toyota Tundra. The next morning, I was up before dawn, hoping to catch sunrise over Lake McDonald. As I brushed my teeth, I debated on whether to throw the camping fee into the box. All I had really done was park in a spot for a few hours, not really what you’d call camping. I’d pretty much decided I’d pay, just so my conscience wouldn’t trouble . I arrived back at my truck to find the campground host filling out a registration in the dark. Wow, they sure get up early. I gave him the money and set out to get some pictures of Glacier.

Driving through Glacier brought back memories for me of many earlier trips. Just out of high school, I had decided to spend a year as a mountain man. My plan was to get a PO box in West Glacier and camp in the mountains south of the park. After about a month alone in the mountains, I decided that civilization in Minnesota wasn’t really so bad. Years later, my wife and I brought our kids to Glacier for a week of rafting, hiking and sightseeing. It was one of the best vacations we ever had.

With these memories going through my mind, I arrived at Lake McDonald at sunrise. Like the day before in Washington, the scenery was beautiful but a bit cloudy. This is a definite problem when you only have one day in a park. I shot a whole bunch of pictures anyway, so I’d have something to discard later. Go figure.

Making my way deeper into the park, I stopped at a few trails and falls, hitting the trails at a run with camera gear flopping at my side. Back in the truck, I started climbing Going to the Sun Road, which was carved into the side of the mountains in 1933. The road is always narrow and winding, but road construction made it incredibly so. I folded in the large mirrors and reflected on memories of another earlier trip. Shortly before my mountain man experiment, my dad lent my friends and I his Winnebago, so I could do some scouting. Looking at the cliffs which overhang the road, and the shear drops, it was obvious why motorhomes are no longer allowed. Sure enough, I managed to bang the Winnebago into a cliff, moving over for an oncoming car. I don’t think my dad even mentioned the dent. What could he expect from a bunch of 18 year olds?

Although it was August, Logan’s Pass had three inches of new snow and a horrendous wind chill. Hidden Lake, and the trail to it, was still beautiful, so I sat on a rock overlooking the lake and meditated for 15 minutes. A great alternative to Hidden Lake, is to hike north from Logan’s Pass to Granite Park Chalet, a rustic and remote lodge surrounded by alpine meadows, jagged mountains and grizzly bears. That all day hike was too much for this trip. Next, my quick tour took me to Saint Mary Lake, Two Medicine Lake and into East Glacier. Just east of the park, I came across some very rugged looking free-ranging horses with lots of scars. I’m sure there were some fascinating stories behind all those wounds.

Once I left Glacier behind, all I had to do for the rest of the day was drive across what remained of Montana. For those of you that haven’t done this, Montana is one seriously large state. Highway 2 has long straight stretches that seem to go on forever, and it is indeed big sky country. I reached Wolf Point, as the sun was setting, and turned south onto Highway 13. Between Wolf Point and Glendive, I lost count at roughly 60 mule deer, including one with the most monstrous set of antlers I’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, it was way too dark for pictures. Near the North Dakota border, I pulled into a rest area to get some sleep.

Theodore Roosevelt National Park

By dawn, I was up again photographing an elk herd, just outside Teddy Roosevelt National Park. Over the years, I had taken I-94 through the park more times than I can remember. A few of those times, I had thought of stopping and visiting the park, but I always thought it looked like a bunch of little, dried-out hills with nothing much worth seeing. Why waste time on my way to Glacier? where they have some real mountains.

Once in the park, I felt a real connection, driving and running among its buttes, plateaus and gulleys. The connection may have been due to a past life I had as an Oglala Sioux Indian, spending much of my time in South Dakota’s black hills. Or, maybe the blissful feeling I felt was because the sun had finally come out. For whatever reason, I sure enjoyed the winding road through the park, stopping for pictures of bison, prairie dogs, antelope, grouse and wild horses. If I’d known there was so much wildlife, I would’ve stopped years earlier.

Minnesota

Along with touring the park, I managed to cover North Dakota and half of Minnesota, arriving in St Cloud early enough to get a truck wash and oil change. The next morning, I arrived at my daughter Sarah’s apartment so we could load her stuff into the truck. I was surprised to find that even leaving her furniture behind, her collection of stuff exceeded the carrying capacity of my full-size, extended cab Tundra pickup. We stuffed as much as we could in, while she decided what to leave behind.

Our next stop was the Twin Cities, where we spent a night at my mom’s. I also managed a side trip to visit some old friends. I mean ones that I’ve known a long time. They’re not that old.

Yellowstone

After a good breakfast at mom’s, we set off towards Yellowstone. The drive was a great opportunity to catch up with happenings in Sarah’s life, and to share all the summer’s events in Washington. It was also an opportunity for her to try out her dad’s traveling style, eating and sleeping in the truck along with driving almost constantly. No point in wasting time. Unfortunately, the truck had gotten a little less comfortable now that it was stuffed with so much stuff. I just thought back to my life as a Sioux in the 1800’s and knew that I’d survived much worse. We spent the night sitting upright in a truck stop, listening to semis coming and going. Maybe Sarah will look back someday and think that “if I survived traveling with dad, I can survive anything.” Like my usual routine, we arrived in Yellowstone at sunrise, hoping to get some of the best photography light of the day. At least that’s what I was hoping. Sarah may have been hoping to get some more sleep. Just after crossing into the park, we came across a herd of elk. The stubborn animals wouldn’t move out of the trees and hold still for a picture. Well, I was pretty sure there were plenty more animals in the park. Our first scheduled stop was Lamar Valley, a broad open valley that’s known for its abundance of game. Unfortunately for Sarah, in addition to “scheduled stops,” traveling with me involves lots of unscheduled stops for wildlife, scenic overlooks or because the lighting looked just right. She, and the rest of the family, spent a week with in Europe with me in June, while I shot over 1600 pictures, so she probably knew what to expect.

After stopping for antelope, a bison and waterfalls, we made it to the Lamar Valley. In order to find game, all you need do is watch for cars lining the road. We pulled in with the rest of them and watched as a distant wolf pack moved in on a bison herd. The wolves were unsuccessful with their hunting, but it was wild to watch. Anyone remember Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom?

Farther up the valley, I got out and ran around a rock formation, looking for a scenic photo angle up the valley. Rounding the corner, I almost ran into an ornery looking bison. As he glared at me, I defensively drew my camera, thinking about the warnings that more people are attacked by bison then by bears in the park. As I took his picture, his only reaction was to stick his tongue out at me, then he went back to standing around. Good thing I found a lazy bison.

Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone was an inspiring sight. The upper and lower falls have flows as high as 60,000 gallons of water per second. The 1200 foot deep canyon is steep and colorful. After the falls, we hiked around Norris Geyser Basin, careful not to step off the boardwalk into steaming water.

Home

After Sarah’s exciting Yellowstone tour with dad, she was anxious to get to her new home in Washington, a condo near our house. I even offered to pull over in another truck stop for some sleep, but she was sure that driving straight through was a better idea. We got to Bellingham at four in morning, ending the fast-paced scenic national park tour. Sarah is now living happily in Washington and enjoying occasional picture taking outings with her dad.

Rafting Hells Canyon on the Snake River, Idaho

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Rafting Hells Canyon on the Snake River, Idaho

by Curt Remington

Friday, August 14th, 2009

Rafting Hells Canyon on the Snake River, Idaho

I left the house at 4 am, thrilled to finally go on a multi-day Idaho raft trip, especially one on the Snake River’s Hells Canyon. The canyon is North America’s deepest river gorge, at 7,993 feet, almost 2,000 feet deeper than the Grand Canyon. The USFS website says, “the Snake is a big river with power many river users have never experienced.” Yep, the volume of water we’d be rafting through was more than I’d experienced. Before we moved west, five years ago, I’d bought a raft, frame and all the necessary gear to take my family on multi-day raft trips. Since that time, that gear’s sat in a pile in the garage, largely due to my failure at convincing my family that rafting is a good idea.

For that very reason, I’d be alone, while my friend Kerry brought his wife, sister and daughter. I pulled into a campground on the Snake River and waited in the 100 degree heat. They arrived soon, and we shared stories from our recent adventures, like my trip toAlaska and Kerry’s mountain climbing trips. We had become friends years earlier, through whitewater kayaking, and we’d climbed Mt Baker together. Along with catching up, we discussed our next day’s plans for rafting Hells Canyon. Kerry brought a 16 foot Maravia raft and lots of gear, much more than my 13′ Aire Super Puma could hold. Maybe, a bigger raft and more gear, was the secret to convincing my family to go. Then again, it might just make for a bigger pile in the garage.

At the put-in the next morning, inflating and loading the rafts became chaotic, as outfitters competed for space, working to get their flotillas of rafts and gear into the water. The permit system only allows for a few groups to enter the river each day. Unfortunately, they all seem to do so at the same time.

I threw my gear together as quickly as possible, feeling apprehensive about rowing through big, pushy class IV rapids. The rangers at the put in told us some recent, inexperienced rafters had flipped eight times. Two of the hardest rapids, Wild Sheep and Granite, would arrive within the first six miles.

My whitewater experience had been in maneuverable kayaks, or paddling a raft with a number of people. Rowing a raft loaded with gear was a brand new experience. Would my gear stay together, if the raft flipped? Maybe I’d learn fast and keep it upright. Kerry and his family looked up from their gear organizing, so I just smiled, trying to look confident. Once they had their massive pile of gear strapped in place, we set off down the river.

Within a half mile, we reached a class II rapid, and I learned an important lesson. A raft with gear, in a pushy river, does not respond anything like a whitewater kayak. I found myself rowing frantically, while the river still pushed me into the largest waves and holes. New strategy! I would have to pick a line through a rapid that involved very little course correction, once the whitewater started.

When we reached Wild Sheep, one of the class IVs, I learned another technique. The raft crested an eight foot wave, a bit diagonally and started to flip. I jumped out of my seat and threw my weight against the higher raft tube. That one was close!Eventually, I also learned that rowing forward, and proper timing, help keep you upright in large waves. Now that I think of it, that usually worked in kayaks too.

Along with powerful rapids, the river’s enormous eddies and whirlpools kept us alert. If you wandered into an eddy, the river pulled the raft upstream, sometimes faster than you could row. By watching the currents, and working with them, the rafts continued in the right direction.

That evening, all that gear the big raft carried made camping downright luxurious. They had real beef and potatoes, cooked at one table and served at another, along with a variety of wines. They even had a selection of appetizers. Lucky for me, my friends are generous. I had brought more of that freeze-dried food that’s been sitting in my closet for years. Kerry’s family is also very friendly, welcoming and are considerate listeners, asking questions about psychic readings, past lives and the spirit world. Conversation stopped as a young eagle circled overhead, then dived at a fish in the river.

Overnight, the river level dropped significantly, leaving our rafts high on a gravel bar. For my light raft, that meant lifting together. For the heavily loaded raft, that meant unloading an enormous dry box and cooler, then moving the raft and reloading. Finally, we set out and made our way to the first rapids of the day. While we scouted, a group of bighorn sheep stood, watching us from the cliff above.

The second class IV that day had a group of big holes at the top, on the right side, then more big holes on the left, towards the bottom. I stood on a boulder, trying to find a path that didn’t involve hitting a big, churning hole. I couldn’t find one, so my plan was to hit the hole hard and throw my weight around, hoping the raft kept going. At this point, I mentioned to my spirit guides that help would be appreciated. Once in the rapids, I skirted the top holes, hit some waves, and the next thing I knew, I was in the clear. What happened to the holes at the bottom? I’m not sure if I somehow missed them, but my theory goes like this: In a big surging river, a hole can be a wave one second, then turn back into a hole the next. It may be that my guides saw to it that they did just that, before I hit them. For whatever reason, I managed to make it through all the rapids, still upright.

Our next night’s camp had a swimming beach, trees for shade and beautiful views of Suicide Point, a tall cliff across the river. On most rivers, it’s the rapids that have morbid names, like Jaws, Boatbeater, Gore and Slaughterhouse.

With only seven miles, and no major rapids ahead, I left my friends early morning, hoping to make it home at a reasonable hour. Each day, we had only encountered a few other boats, due to the permit and lottery system. As I floated alone, and looked up, the remoteness and rugged beauty of the canyon truly inspired me. The eddies even settled down enough so I could meditate while I drifted.

At the Pittsburg Landing takeout, I felt a great sense of relief in finding my truck waiting, with a third of atank of gas. It had been close to full, when I had left it at the put-in, along with a key for the shuttle service. As I drove up the steep, winding gravel road out of the canyon, I realized how they’d used so much gas. The drive to get my truck there had no doubt been a long, steep and winding one.

After seventeen miles, I came to an intersection and realized that I was now in a remote part of Idaho and didn’t have a decent map. My gas gauge kept dropping, and there was no cell phone reception. I should have meditated and asked a guide for directions. Instead, I guessed at the next few turns and wound up miles down another winding backroad, with Highway 95 visible on the hillside above me. Tuning into intuition, I backtracked and my next turn took me to the highway. Soon, I ended up in a town with gas and phone reception. Mary, my wife, gave me directions for back roads halfway across Washington, a much quicker route than heading straight for the freeway. In fact, I made it home in time to unpack and spend a few hours sharing my adventures with her and working to convince her that raft trips are a great idea.

Hay House Cruise to Alaska

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Trip Report: Alaska Cruise with Hay House

by Curt and Mary Remington

Monday, August 3rd, 2009

Alaska Cruise and Port Details

We boarded the ship to Alaska with anticipation, knowing this cruise could be a key turning point in our lives. Hay House (see ad to the right), a major book publisher, reserved the entire 1,380 passenger ship, the MS Amsterdam. Part of this group, myself included, signed up for a writer’s workshop with a contest for a book deal. As you may know from my blogs, I’ve been writing a book on meditation. You may also know that my wife and I are in regular communication with the spiritual realm. The book idea, Hay House as a publisher, and signing up for this cruise were all ideas strongly encouraged by advanced spirits. They didn’t exactly promise I’d get the book deal out of this cruise, but they did strongly allude to the possibility. That’s close enough to get me excited.

Mary, my wife and a talented clairvoyant, eagerly signed up for another on-board program, featuring eight keynote speakers: Wayne Dyer, Brian Weiss, Sonia Choquette, Gregg Braden, Caroline Myss, Iyanla Vanzant, John Holland and Cheryl Richardson. Mary wrote the last section of this blog, describing her experience.

Heather, one of our teenage daughters, had some mixed feelings about the cruise. She looked forward to fun activities, great food and a chance to shop, while maybe feeling apprehensive about a cruiseship full of psychics and spiritually enlightened people. We all found the fellow passengers to be very warm, friendly, open-minded and quite normal.

As an added bonus for all three of us, these seminars were taking place on a Holland America ship that would be cruising past the rugged islands and coasts of British Columbia and Alaska, visiting places like Juneau, Sitka, Ketchikan, Hubbard Glacier and Victoria, British Columbia. While boating in Washington’s San Juan Islands, close to home, I’ve often dreamt of continuing north to these places. In fact, I have an earlier manuscript about The Passage. That link will take you to a chapter that was published in a canoe magazine, while Goat Hunt will take you to a chapter about a man facing aging and his mortality.

For the first day, the ship, Holland America’s Amsterdam, made smooth, steady progress through the open Pacific and waves which would’ve tossed my 23′ boat around violently. Along with Hay House programs, the ship offered a whole variety of activities like working out, shopping, gambling and of course eating.

The second morning, the Amsterdam cruised up sunny Gastineau Channel, with views of fishing boats and snow-capped peaks, arriving in Juneau at 11 am. Although it’s the capital of Alaska, Juneau can only be reached by air or sea, unless you have a dog sled and are very adventurous. The downtown cruise dock area is lined with tourist shops and surprising bargains, like an Alaska t-shirt for $4.99 or a small bag of quartz for $2.99. For someone with more expensive tastes, there’s also perfume, watches, electronics, furs and artwork. There are even free items stores give away, just to get you in the door.

We left the shopping behind, as a jet boat brought us across to Douglas Island and a ”rain-forest canopy and zip line adventure.” The thrill comes as you launch yourself off a tree-platform, hanging from a climbing harness and pulleys, then slide “zip” on cables as much as 180 feet above the ground. Approaching the next platform at over 30 mph, you reach up and grab the cable, stopping your zip just before crashing into the tree. The course has ten cable sections, covering 6,000 feet of cable, along with treetop suspension bridges, finishing with a rappel to the ground.

Once back in Juneau, we boarded the Mt Roberts Tramway. It departs from the dock area, carrying passengers 1800 feet above downtown, to a visitor’s center. Mt Roberts has a network of hiking trails, with spectacular views of Juneau, Gastineau Channel and the surrounding mountains.

After a few miles of hiking, Heather returned to the ship, tired from the day’s adventures. Mary and I had just enough energy left to drink a cold Alaskan beer at Hangar on the Wharf Pub and Grill, a renovated seaplane hangar. Beyond Mary and the beer, you can see the Amsterdam towering over the red jet boat from our zipline tour. As we made our way back to the ship, three floatplanes descended to the channel and pulled up to the dock in front of the bar.

Day four, the ship made slow progress through fog and small icebergs in Yakutat Bay. Early afternoon, the fog lifted, revealing the jagged peaks of Fairweather Mountains along with Hubbard Glacier, the longest tidewater glacier in Alaska. It extends 76 miles from its source, with a ”calving face” stretching for six miles across the bay. The glacier appears very blue, since the ice absorbs other wavelengths of light. At the steepest part of the face, large chunks of ice rumbled, then cracked off, sending up immense plumes of spray.

Sitka is a beautiful town and an important part of Alaskan history. The port was originally settled by Tlingit natives. Through negotiations and fighting, control passed between the Tlingits and Russians a few times, with Sitka becoming the Russian capital of Alaska in 1808. The US bought Alaska in 1867 and kept Sitka the capital until 1906.

After taking a tender (lifeboat) to shore, we picked up our reserved mountain bikes. This turned out to be a great way to see a lot, with limited time. We managed a trail to an alpine lake, an eagle center, historic park, Bishop’s mansion tour, lunch and still fit in some downtown shopping. Who needs to rest while on vacation?

Ketchikan is the rainiest city in the US, with 152 inches of “liquid sunshine” a year. Sure enough, it rained. The local weather forecast joke goes, “If you can’t see Deer Mountain, it’s raining. If you can see it, it’s about to rain.” Our original plan to hike up Deer Mountain didn’t make much sense, because if you can’t see Deer Mountain, you probably can’t see much from the mountain either. We settled on a walk around town and exploring the marina. Creek St, an old red-light district, has very quaint shops with some true bargains, like fleece jackets for $20.

Downtown Victoria, British Columbia is spectacularly scenic and has a long list of things for tourists to do. This city is close enough to home that we’ve visited regularly. The harbor has float planes, yachts and tourist tugs, along with views of the Empress Hotel, Parliament Building and the distant Olympic Mountains. Having seen most other sights, we walked the harbor and visited the Royal Canadian Wax Museum, which you can see just above the old yacht’s stern.

Writer’s Workshop

Between all the adventures and sightseeing, I did manage to attend the on-board writer’s workshop, learning powerful techniques for writing and for improving and marketing my book project, Simple Meditation: Connecting With Spirit and Finding Your Life’s Purpose. As I mentioned earlier, my book proposal will be entered in a contest (winner picked in December) for a deal with Hay House, the publisher highly recommended by my spiritual contacts. Along with the quality of the book, publishers also look at the number of contacts writers have, so please sign up for my new Facebook fan page. You might help ensure the success of my book, get more people meditating, and improve the quality of life on the planet Earth. Thanks!

As you may have noticed, I was so enthused about Hay House that I signed up as an advertiser. Clicking on any of the Hay House banners will take you to the appropriate page of their website where you can find enlightening books, cd’s and cards. Buying and reading some might dramatically improve your life.

The night before the cruise, we went to see Wayne Dyer speak in Seattle. My daughter, Heather, was so moved by his talk that she asked if she could listen to all the speakers on the cruise. We signed her up, so she and Mary attended them together. Heather enjoyed and learned a great deal from all eight speakers. Unfortunately, I missed these, so Mary wrote the rest of this blog, describing the talks she attended.

Mary’s Write-Up of Hay House Program

When I look back on this life changing and inspirational experience, it will be remembered with great reverence and gratitude. I am grateful to our spirit guide “Chief” who, without a doubt, was the guiding light that inspired my husband and I to go. I would also like to extend my greatest appreciation to all of the Hay House authors who have inspired me and touched my soul forever. They have devoted their lives to such worthy and healing causes, which is surely having a ripple affect throughout our planet. Although I couldn’t possibly sum up all of the invaluable information I absorbed during the seminars, I would like to share some of my thoughts and say “thank you” to each author.

Wayne Dyer

How can I begin? I would consider him one of the greatest inspirational teachers of this generation. My husband, Curt, has been a big advocate of his for many years, since he read “Your Erroneous Zones.” He has promoted this book to the whole family, from time to time, for various reasons. If you had a problem, it was always “go read Your Erroneous Zones”. He read it as a teen ,at a time when he was searching for answers, and it changed his life. I have

great admiration for Wayne Dyer. From all of the turmoil in his childhood, he found a way to transform his life into something with great meaning and purpose. He had a vision and he followed it and continues to follow it. He truly motivates and inspires everyone he touches.

Caroline Myss

What a smart, tough, no excuses approach to heal your life. She tells it like it is and teaches us to take a hard look at ourselves, stop blaming others and stop trying to find a reason for what’s gone wrong in our lives. She emphasized forgiveness, gratitude and being of service. This was my first con tact with Caroline Myss and will definitely not be my last. I feel that my life’s purpose is in healing and I’m like a sponge for any information about it. Thank you Caroline for your inspiring words.

Brian Weiss

He’s definitely good at what he does. He had the entire audience in a state of hypnosis in a flash with his caaaalm, soooothing voice and description of beautiful, peaceful places. Who wouldn’t want to go there? I’m a strong believer in re-incarnation and know that healing can come from discovering events or trauma in our past lives, that keep us stuck or unhappy in our present lives. Brian Weiss is well respected, and his revolutionary techniques are revered world wide. He’s certainly an advocate of meditation, which I think is a healing and powerful practice that we should all adopt.

Sonia Choquette

Sonia is a gifted psychic with a colorful, creative and energetic personality, and she knows how to have fun! Sonia teaches us how to wake up our spirit and our sixth or psychic sense. We need to listen to our higher self, which has important information that we cannot get from our conscious mind. She also stresses the importance of connecting with the creator, our spirit guides and angels who help guide us on our path. To help us let go of our inhibitions and wake up our spirit, a little dancing didn’t hurt either. Very fun!

Gregg Braden

Gregg’s talk was a mix of science, history and spirituality that was fascinating. It was interesting to learn that we’ve had cycles throughout history and these cycles or patterns repeat themselves. Most importantly, the choices we make as a species, can have a big impact on these cycles. The Mayan predictions about the end of time in 2012 have many people questioning, is it true and, if so, what can we do to change it. Getting in touch with our inner spirit, letting go of fear, helping others and healing the planet are some of the things we can do now. Gregg’s vision of our future left me very encouraged and hopeful

Iyanla Vanzant

Iyanla is a vibrant, free spirited, crazy kind of woman and I loved her! Starting with some Hallelujah’s, some movin’ and swayin‘, connecting with ourselves as spirit and having great gratitude for life was a wonderful way to start the day. What a beautiful soul she is. She is a minister of God and seems very devoted to helping us get beyond our past and find our purpose. Again, this was my first experience with Iyanla, and I left feeling truly empowered.

John Holland

John is a gifted psychic medium who connects with the audience in a unique and compassionate way. He is very dedicated to what he does and delivers such healing messages from the spirit world to those that are grieving. It is so wonderful to see the audience reaction, knowing that their loved ones are still around and want to communicate with them. Tears of happiness pour from them and they’re surrounded with comfort and peace. It brought me to tears to watch. I’m finishing my clairvoyant training this fall, and I know how good it feels to be able to help people in this way. The healing goes both ways and it’s very rewarding.

Cheryl Richardson

I really connected with what Cheryl Richardson had to say, because I too, am the general manager of my universe. I am constantly busying myself and doing doing doing for everyone else, leaving what I want for last. Often, this time in the day never comes. Cheryl teaches us to make our own selves a top priority, which is something I don’t often do. My own family recognizes that in me, more than I do. This was a big wake up call for me. I need to get to know me! Wow! What a concept! I’m reading Cheryl’s book “Stand Up For Your Life” and I’ve scheduled a solo vision quest for myself in early August so I can get started getting to know me and my purpose in life. Thanks Cheryl!

Conclusion

In conclusion, I would also like to say a great big thanks to Louise Hay and all of the staff and help that made the Alaska cruise possible. I’ve had a very tough past year with one of my daughters, and this was just what the doctor ordered to nourish my soul. I feel that I can get back on track and move forward again. Thanks to all of you! Mary Remington