Early morning, Keystone, Colorado, high in the Rocky Mountains: Friend dashes upstairs yelling to his wife and I, "Get your cameras!" We grabbed and dashed. "There's a moose right. . . it was right there!" A spot about 100-150 feet from their front door. Smack in the middle of a glitzy 100-plus unit condo development.
So we took off after Mr. Moose, aiming to shoot him (with cameras, of course). Preferably with telephoto lens. You never want to get too close to Mr. Moose. Mrs. Moose, either.
We chased that stupid, obstinately disappearing moose for the better part of an hour. Through the condo complex, over a few meadows, through a couple of parking lots. No moosie-moosie.
Instead, we found the local Sheriff. She'd been chasing Mr. Moose in her Sheriff's car for over an hour - since just about dawn. She parked at one point, opened her trunk, and pulled out some strange orange thing with vivid bold capitals, "LESS LETHAL." Don't want to know what that was, or what "less" lethal means, even in moosie-moosie terms.
She warned us to beware the moose, and call her if we spotted him. We were only interested in telephoto-range sightings, we assured Mademoiselle le Sheriff.
Never found Mr. Moose. Not a glimpse. Not finding Mr. Moose was very disappointing. Chasing Mr. Moose? Priceless.
Also breathless - high-altitude chase, you know. There's no way a human can outrun a moose, especially at 11,000 feet. He's used to it, and very well altitude-adjusted indeed. Humans end up oxygen-starved and panting. But it was fun anyway.
May your road rise to meet you - and may you catch up with your Mr. Moose!
Ann
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Planes, Trains, Automobiles
Planes, trains, automobiles - and boats. Each mode of transport has its merits, and its own unique character. After driving just shy of 6,000 miles, the Great American Road Trip - or its counterparts, the Great Canadian Road Trip and Great European Road Trip - is something every Road Warrioress really needs to experience at least once in her life.
I have a friend who hates to drive. Oh, yes, she's perfectly capable, licensed, clean driving record, and all that. She just hates doing it! Won't even drive to the supermarket, but has hubby take her instead. Long-distance road trips - at least one US and one European annually - she meticulously plans, maps, organizes. And hubby does all the driving. Obviously, she's not a Road Warrioress, despite being a very avid traveler. Guess it's a good thing opposites attract since hubby is decidedly a Road Warrior who loves to drive, even winding little one-laners along Italy's plunging coastlines.
My friend's perspective is totally lost on me. Just don't get it. More akin to her husband (except for driving on the "wrong" side of the road, which he handles with aplomb), I love to get in the car and go.
Doesn't much matter where. I've been known to take a left turn on the freeway - abrupt decision, no accident - and end up hundreds of miles from the originally intended destination. Or decide "I just want to get out of here" at the Laundromat Saturday morning, then pack laundry and kitties and take off, arriving home just in time to get back to work Monday morning. I simply love to drive. Love going places. Even when I don't know where I'm going, but just "follow my nose" to see what there is to see.
Love to fly. Love boats, even for a speedy trip on a lake or Long Island Sound. Love trains - one of my greatest adventures was riding the rails through China for a few months.
But driving a car is a completely different experience. Answering to no one, adjusting my route on a whim, stopping whenever I'm hungry or just to shoot a few photographs because something caught my eye. There's nothing like driving across Nebraska at 80 miles an hour, glad you can race past cow-stench, or sorry you had no idea there was such a spectacular bridge to photograph and could find no place to pull over fast enough to capture it.
Definitely, Road Warrioresses, take that road trip!
May your road rise to meet you - wherever you go!
Ann
I have a friend who hates to drive. Oh, yes, she's perfectly capable, licensed, clean driving record, and all that. She just hates doing it! Won't even drive to the supermarket, but has hubby take her instead. Long-distance road trips - at least one US and one European annually - she meticulously plans, maps, organizes. And hubby does all the driving. Obviously, she's not a Road Warrioress, despite being a very avid traveler. Guess it's a good thing opposites attract since hubby is decidedly a Road Warrior who loves to drive, even winding little one-laners along Italy's plunging coastlines.
My friend's perspective is totally lost on me. Just don't get it. More akin to her husband (except for driving on the "wrong" side of the road, which he handles with aplomb), I love to get in the car and go.
Doesn't much matter where. I've been known to take a left turn on the freeway - abrupt decision, no accident - and end up hundreds of miles from the originally intended destination. Or decide "I just want to get out of here" at the Laundromat Saturday morning, then pack laundry and kitties and take off, arriving home just in time to get back to work Monday morning. I simply love to drive. Love going places. Even when I don't know where I'm going, but just "follow my nose" to see what there is to see.
Love to fly. Love boats, even for a speedy trip on a lake or Long Island Sound. Love trains - one of my greatest adventures was riding the rails through China for a few months.
But driving a car is a completely different experience. Answering to no one, adjusting my route on a whim, stopping whenever I'm hungry or just to shoot a few photographs because something caught my eye. There's nothing like driving across Nebraska at 80 miles an hour, glad you can race past cow-stench, or sorry you had no idea there was such a spectacular bridge to photograph and could find no place to pull over fast enough to capture it.
Definitely, Road Warrioresses, take that road trip!
May your road rise to meet you - wherever you go!
Ann
Friday, October 4, 2013
How to Cope with High Altitude
Well, it certainly pays to check out racks of travel and tourism brochures! There's home delivery of oxygen to cure what ails you in the high Rockies. How nice of them to list several tips for acclimatizing to such an environment. Some of them are new to me, so let's list them all here for you.
* Avoid maximum physical exertion for the first 1-2 days
* Catch up on sleep
* Stay hydrated with sports drinks
* Limit alcohol and caffeine
* Limit time in hot tubs
* Eat small low-fat, high-carbohydrate meals
* Eat dinner at least 3-4 hours before bedtime
So far, I'm needing at least two days to get used to the altitude. By which time, I'm leaving! The car is loaded up with bottled water, vitamin-water, green tea. Sports drinks, with all those electrolytes, are something I'd missed. The high-carb diet is another unfamiliar tip.
Starting to feel a bit better, though still in need of another nap before dinner. Horizontal remains the only good position to be in for the moment. But there's so many exciting things to tell you about, I'll be back after a bit of a rest!
May your road rise to meet you - with helpful hints along your way!
Ann
* Avoid maximum physical exertion for the first 1-2 days
* Catch up on sleep
* Stay hydrated with sports drinks
* Limit alcohol and caffeine
* Limit time in hot tubs
* Eat small low-fat, high-carbohydrate meals
* Eat dinner at least 3-4 hours before bedtime
So far, I'm needing at least two days to get used to the altitude. By which time, I'm leaving! The car is loaded up with bottled water, vitamin-water, green tea. Sports drinks, with all those electrolytes, are something I'd missed. The high-carb diet is another unfamiliar tip.
Starting to feel a bit better, though still in need of another nap before dinner. Horizontal remains the only good position to be in for the moment. But there's so many exciting things to tell you about, I'll be back after a bit of a rest!
May your road rise to meet you - with helpful hints along your way!
Ann
Some People Are Not Meant for Mountains!
There are so very many things to write about - including surprises and the spectacularly delicious! - at the moment. I can't breathe. Can hardly sit up. Totally horizontal is the only position where my heart is not pounding so loud it must be heard all the way to the Himalayas.
Denver altitude was a tough adjustment, not met within a couple of days. Despite some articles to write, beer tastings were conducted very cautiously. Tiny sips, savored long on the tongue, rather like wine-tasting. Drunk on low-oxygen, alcohol was totally unnecessary. More about Suds City to come as despite little sips, as opposed to desired "big glugs," ooh-la-la, there's lots to share with you!
And don't forget a bigger surprise . . . coming as fast as fingers restart proper functioning.
Yesterday, it was up into the mountains. Darling Little Baby-Car was not particularly happy about it, but made it. Not so sure yet about my survivability of another 24 hours way up in the mountains. Worse, it's snowing. Supposed to melt by tomorrow, and it better. Ski season has not started, won't with this piddly-bit, and I wouldn't be joining anybody on the slopes anyway. Skiing is not my thing. Seems just plain old mountains in general aren't, either.
We each have our sense of some ideal location where we feel most at home. Seashore, prairie, mountains, desert, forest or rainforest - even out to sea - whether we're at home or traveling, that's the sort of environment we tend to seek. That's "the kind of place for me," whoever's talking. We each tend to feel more comfortable, at home, in a certain kind of environment.
It's a good thing all 7.3 billion of us don't want exactly the same thing! But mountains are definitely not for me. Himalayas? Probably never go there since it tops a very short list of "places I will not go." They're better viewed from a distance, towering over northern India, while I stay where the air still has some oxygen left.
Headed "downward" tomorrow, and I'll breathe easier then. Meanwhile, a little rest, and try to write some more or I'll never catch up with everything there is to talk about!
May your road rise to meet you - but not to-o-o high!
Ann
Denver altitude was a tough adjustment, not met within a couple of days. Despite some articles to write, beer tastings were conducted very cautiously. Tiny sips, savored long on the tongue, rather like wine-tasting. Drunk on low-oxygen, alcohol was totally unnecessary. More about Suds City to come as despite little sips, as opposed to desired "big glugs," ooh-la-la, there's lots to share with you!
And don't forget a bigger surprise . . . coming as fast as fingers restart proper functioning.
Yesterday, it was up into the mountains. Darling Little Baby-Car was not particularly happy about it, but made it. Not so sure yet about my survivability of another 24 hours way up in the mountains. Worse, it's snowing. Supposed to melt by tomorrow, and it better. Ski season has not started, won't with this piddly-bit, and I wouldn't be joining anybody on the slopes anyway. Skiing is not my thing. Seems just plain old mountains in general aren't, either.
We each have our sense of some ideal location where we feel most at home. Seashore, prairie, mountains, desert, forest or rainforest - even out to sea - whether we're at home or traveling, that's the sort of environment we tend to seek. That's "the kind of place for me," whoever's talking. We each tend to feel more comfortable, at home, in a certain kind of environment.
It's a good thing all 7.3 billion of us don't want exactly the same thing! But mountains are definitely not for me. Himalayas? Probably never go there since it tops a very short list of "places I will not go." They're better viewed from a distance, towering over northern India, while I stay where the air still has some oxygen left.
Headed "downward" tomorrow, and I'll breathe easier then. Meanwhile, a little rest, and try to write some more or I'll never catch up with everything there is to talk about!
May your road rise to meet you - but not to-o-o high!
Ann
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
The Joy of the Road Trip
This time, it's a road trip. No TSA, no keeping other people's schedules, just footloose and fancy-free, as they say. It's a great way to leave whatever ails or irks you behind.
By the time I drove across a big bridge, I was smiling at river scenes and boat traffic below. By the second state-line crossing, I was grinning! Fall foliage in the Poconos is already a searingly beautiful flame color. Leaves actually sparkle in sunlight. Once I hit farmlands and the Great Plains, the harvest is almost all in. Colors of browns, beiges, and evergreen windbreaks surrounding farm buildings - along with brilliant glints of light off silver silos. (I could do without smelling the cows, however! A stockyard-full was particularly intense for several miles.)
Now it's the foot of the Rockies. There's some snow up there, particularly atop what Coloradans call "the Fourteens" - those 14,000 feet and up giants. Surprisingly, there's less fall color than back East! Mornings are crisp (to say the least) but the sun is brilliant and downright hot.
Before I left, friends were all in a panic. They love me dearly, worry about me. But I've lost count of the number of cross-country road trips I've taken. This is not even all the way across. No big deal to me.
But it made me wonder why so few woman drive solo cross-country, in foreign countries, or wherever it takes more than a day to get where you want to go. Probably fear, I guess. Perhaps time constraints. Definitely the sore butt after driving 500 or 600 miles!
Have you driven long-distance yourself? If not, why not?
Considering how wonderful road trips are, why not give it a go?
May your road rise to meet you - with freedom and pleasure!
Ann
By the time I drove across a big bridge, I was smiling at river scenes and boat traffic below. By the second state-line crossing, I was grinning! Fall foliage in the Poconos is already a searingly beautiful flame color. Leaves actually sparkle in sunlight. Once I hit farmlands and the Great Plains, the harvest is almost all in. Colors of browns, beiges, and evergreen windbreaks surrounding farm buildings - along with brilliant glints of light off silver silos. (I could do without smelling the cows, however! A stockyard-full was particularly intense for several miles.)
Now it's the foot of the Rockies. There's some snow up there, particularly atop what Coloradans call "the Fourteens" - those 14,000 feet and up giants. Surprisingly, there's less fall color than back East! Mornings are crisp (to say the least) but the sun is brilliant and downright hot.
Before I left, friends were all in a panic. They love me dearly, worry about me. But I've lost count of the number of cross-country road trips I've taken. This is not even all the way across. No big deal to me.
But it made me wonder why so few woman drive solo cross-country, in foreign countries, or wherever it takes more than a day to get where you want to go. Probably fear, I guess. Perhaps time constraints. Definitely the sore butt after driving 500 or 600 miles!
Have you driven long-distance yourself? If not, why not?
Considering how wonderful road trips are, why not give it a go?
May your road rise to meet you - with freedom and pleasure!
Ann
Thursday, September 26, 2013
When to Throw a "Hail Mary Pass"
No football fan (leave that to Pop!), I'm hardly conversant with the lingo. The only familiar term is the "Hail Mary Pass," that last-ditch move made in desperation. In the travel context, I sometimes think I must have invented the term.
Just a sprinkling of "Hail Mary Passes" over solo-traveling days:
* Moved home, company, and cats from Singapore to Hong Kong on USD125. Landed home in Singapore late one night, heard "Sorry-lah, cannot" for the gazillionth time, and decided that was more than enough. Landed in Hong Kong a week later, and flew courier to do it. The trio of kitty-babies did just fine. As for me, I love the place.
* How did I ever land in Asia to begin with? Sorta-boyfriend rang at 3:25 a.m. California time, said, "I might have found you a job, get your passport." Thought I was going to Bali, and wound up in the jungles of Borneo. Turned out all right in the end, and even glad to get rid of the bf, ultimately.
* En route to a conference in Montreal, realized there was nowhere near enough money for hotels and all. Made a left turn on the interstate, and wound up in Buffalo. Great summer!
So, with varying degrees of ultimate success, every Hail Mary Pass has worked out in the end. Maybe a little anxiety involved, but the worst part has always been just letting it fly.
Once more, a Hail Mary Pass launches Saturday. I'll let you know how it goes.
When do you throw a Hail Mary Pass? Whenever you're at your wits end. When all other options seem to have evaporated. When you're well and truly stuck. Whenever you want to. Put it out into the ethers that "this has to work!" Ask your angels to protect you. Grab your things and go!
Just guessing, but successfully completed Hail Mary Passes just might have a better average on the road than on the football field. At least, that's how it has worked so far. So, just let it fly, trust your luck and your angels, dash like mad to the end of the field, and catch your own football.
Let me know how your Hail Mary Passes go!
May your road rise to meet you - and your Hail Mary Passes get you to your end zone.
Ann
Just a sprinkling of "Hail Mary Passes" over solo-traveling days:
* Moved home, company, and cats from Singapore to Hong Kong on USD125. Landed home in Singapore late one night, heard "Sorry-lah, cannot" for the gazillionth time, and decided that was more than enough. Landed in Hong Kong a week later, and flew courier to do it. The trio of kitty-babies did just fine. As for me, I love the place.
* How did I ever land in Asia to begin with? Sorta-boyfriend rang at 3:25 a.m. California time, said, "I might have found you a job, get your passport." Thought I was going to Bali, and wound up in the jungles of Borneo. Turned out all right in the end, and even glad to get rid of the bf, ultimately.
* En route to a conference in Montreal, realized there was nowhere near enough money for hotels and all. Made a left turn on the interstate, and wound up in Buffalo. Great summer!
So, with varying degrees of ultimate success, every Hail Mary Pass has worked out in the end. Maybe a little anxiety involved, but the worst part has always been just letting it fly.
Once more, a Hail Mary Pass launches Saturday. I'll let you know how it goes.
When do you throw a Hail Mary Pass? Whenever you're at your wits end. When all other options seem to have evaporated. When you're well and truly stuck. Whenever you want to. Put it out into the ethers that "this has to work!" Ask your angels to protect you. Grab your things and go!
Just guessing, but successfully completed Hail Mary Passes just might have a better average on the road than on the football field. At least, that's how it has worked so far. So, just let it fly, trust your luck and your angels, dash like mad to the end of the field, and catch your own football.
Let me know how your Hail Mary Passes go!
May your road rise to meet you - and your Hail Mary Passes get you to your end zone.
Ann
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
One Wild and Crazy Foodie-Guy
I like to eat. Love to cook, and dabble in a multitude of cuisines. Some experiments don't turn out all that great. On the whole, however, people like what I cook and love what I bake.
Some tastes don't turn out all that great, either. Jackfruit really is a "heaty" fruit, as Indonesians call it. Swallow a bit (tastes fine) and feel your face redden to flames. Whoa! Singapore Fish Head Curry is pretty good, once you get past those eyes staring at you and that gaping maw (turn the bowl so you don't see it, and pick out the fishmeat).
Finally managed to close my eyes and taste Indonesia's great delicacy - ikan bilis. Bleeagh! on that one! Itty-bitty dried fish, eyes or no, are yucky. But in only one place (so far) could I find nothing I was willing and able to eat: Pitsanuloke, Thailand. Just too ferociously fiery. Besides, some of that stuff was really globby-looking.
Benuaq Dayaks, while at their longhouse up the Mahakam River in Kalimantan (Borneo), served sticky rice cakes wrapped in pandanus leaves with a scary-looking brown sauce. Turned out to be fresh coconut with spices, like cinnamon. Totally delicious! And so most food most places turns out to range from pretty good to superb. At the very least, strange results are edible-without-gagging.
Finally got around to reading A Cook's Tour, one of professional chef Anthony Bourdain's oldie-but-goodies, while recuperating. Travel Channel's host presents lots of good times, good food and good fun with interesting people. Great travel story. But will I sample some of the things he has eaten?
Bourdain just plain has to be crazy. I draw lots of lines he never will. One of those has to be drinking cobra bile and eating cobra. No thanks, terima kasih, nyet! Some of these things are hard to bear reading about. Taste? Never!
Yes, Bourdain is such a wild and crazy guy he must be a bit deranged. But that's what makes him a jolly good read.
May your road rise to meet you - with scrumptious food (and a good book)!
Ann
Some tastes don't turn out all that great, either. Jackfruit really is a "heaty" fruit, as Indonesians call it. Swallow a bit (tastes fine) and feel your face redden to flames. Whoa! Singapore Fish Head Curry is pretty good, once you get past those eyes staring at you and that gaping maw (turn the bowl so you don't see it, and pick out the fishmeat).
Finally managed to close my eyes and taste Indonesia's great delicacy - ikan bilis. Bleeagh! on that one! Itty-bitty dried fish, eyes or no, are yucky. But in only one place (so far) could I find nothing I was willing and able to eat: Pitsanuloke, Thailand. Just too ferociously fiery. Besides, some of that stuff was really globby-looking.
Benuaq Dayaks, while at their longhouse up the Mahakam River in Kalimantan (Borneo), served sticky rice cakes wrapped in pandanus leaves with a scary-looking brown sauce. Turned out to be fresh coconut with spices, like cinnamon. Totally delicious! And so most food most places turns out to range from pretty good to superb. At the very least, strange results are edible-without-gagging.
Finally got around to reading A Cook's Tour, one of professional chef Anthony Bourdain's oldie-but-goodies, while recuperating. Travel Channel's host presents lots of good times, good food and good fun with interesting people. Great travel story. But will I sample some of the things he has eaten?
Bourdain just plain has to be crazy. I draw lots of lines he never will. One of those has to be drinking cobra bile and eating cobra. No thanks, terima kasih, nyet! Some of these things are hard to bear reading about. Taste? Never!
Yes, Bourdain is such a wild and crazy guy he must be a bit deranged. But that's what makes him a jolly good read.
May your road rise to meet you - with scrumptious food (and a good book)!
Ann
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