It isn’t Thursday, but I’m remembering some past trips to the Smokies, and that even though they be but little(ish), they be mighty. (Bonus video content in this post!)
In 2010, I rode down this really cool road between all these big rocks. turned out, that road was taking me through Zion National Park. Ever since then, I’ve been dying to get back and explore the park.
I do a lot of raving about Montana and Glacier National Park on here, but I promise it’s for a good reason. The place really is spectacular. The way most of the park’s visitors see it is from their car. But, for the love of all that is holy, if you have working legs and lungs, GET OUT AND HIKE THIS PARK. Do it. Do it for me. Do it for yourself.
I’ve hiked at Clifty Falls State Park in Indiana twice this year, and every time I go I like it more. With four waterfalls, an abandoned train tunnel and miles of trails, its a wild wonderland of adventure.
Along the river are a lot of those little blink-and-you-miss-them towns. You know the kind that have a sign saying, “Welcome,” then 10 feet later one saying “Thank you for visiting.” They’re charming, usually hiding some kind of gem – either a great locally-owned shop or restaurant, or someone with a great life story. One thing you can count on is they always have a story to tell.
For something that supposed to be “enchanting,” New Mexico was anything but the first two times I passed through. But the third time – now that was the charm.
Long drives on quiet Sunday mornings come with big rewards. While I was hunting Underground Railroad locations in southern Ohio, I rediscovered a nondescript white house with ties to a Civil War general and former President. It was a reminder that no matter where you begin in life, you never know where you may end up.
We checked out a creepy small town, stayed at an equally creepy historic hotel and reunited young lovers.
The more I explore Kentucky, the more surprised I am by how many very interesting and beautiful things lurk in the next holler. One of the places that inspired me recently was a small village just south of Maysville, Ky. When I walk on flagstone sidewalks along Main Street, it’s easy to imagine hearing the clop of hooves on the road. What is harder to imagine is the impact the people of this blip on the map have had on the world.
I have a confession to make: I am terrified of the ocean.
Stepping into a large body of water – with or without a life jacket – creates a silent kind of mind-numbing terror. Part of this is that I literally sink like a Stone – its not just my last name, it’s what I turn into in water: total dead weight.