The Coral Pink Dunes

Here we were, a day of exploring under our belts. We'd already been through the Antelope Canyon in Page, AZ and now we were in Utah just past Kanab. We were rapidly approaching Zion National Park when mom spied a sign, "Coral Pink Sand Dunes." She asked if I would be interested in checking this place out and I said "Sure!" So there we were at the dunes, mounds and mounds of orangey-pink colored sand. Not quite coral, not quite rust just somewhere in the family of orange and coral. The previous day had seen some snowfall in the area leaving some of the mounds dusted with white, giving the impression of a tasty orange dreamsicle.

We explored one small area of dunes before driving on to discover the official park entry. Mom paid the fee and in we went. Miles of the sand dunes stretched out in all directions. It was an impressive sight to see. Not to be confined to the car and simple walkways, since the dunes were open for exploration, we did just that. We slid-walked down the hills as we went along and each uphill was a challenge. Each step uphill was like taking two steps as your foot would sink deeply into the sand. Mom pointed to a rather high peak in the dunes and suggested we go up there, my initial response was absolutely not! My nose was already cold from the frigid winds, I was ready to pack it in. Then we got to a fence and took a picture together. My wanderlust got the better of me, next thing I knew I was wandering, just a couple steps down toward the base of the big hill. Just a couple steps, then a couple more, next thing I knew we were making our way, slide-walking up the hill toward the peak.

Nearing the halfway point to the peak, the ground had frozen a little making for easier walking. However, the wind had kicked up to a point that scarves, hats, gloves, and jackets were pretty much useless against the cold. Nearly to the top we decided to call it quits. Although I was cold (frozen might be more accurate) the view was not one to ignore. I had to take a video and some pictures. The wind was blowing so hard you could see the sand lifting from the top of the dunes. What a sight!

We slowly made our way back down and up and down and up the dunes until we made it back to the car. I had sunk into the dunes so many times, my shoes were now filled with enough sand to make a miniature sandbox, but at least my feet were warmer from the extra insulation. It was a fantastic experience and one that will stay with me for a long time.

A Golf Cart on Bald Head

The dappled sunlight filtered through the canopy of trees. The wind brushed over my face and we drove the golf cart across Bald Head Island. We'd been on the island for a couple hours already and had explored Old Baldy (a lighthouse) and had a fantastic lunch right by the water. Now we were making our way through the island to the far end. I was on a mission to see my goal, the Atlantic Ocean. Common sense told me that, I'd already seen the Atlantic. I saw a small piece of it when we took the ferry across the channel between the mainland of North Carolina and Bald Head Island but it just wasn't the same. That view had been impeded by the island I was now crossing, the view I was aiming for was an uninterrupted view. Standing on the beach and seeing the ocean spread out before me seemingly never ending.

We zipped across the island in this golf cart and waved to others who drove their carts in the opposite direction. It was a wonderful and unique experience because there weren't any cars on this island, just golf carts and bicycles. We stopped to explore a marshy area, crossing the boardwalk carefully. We paused to take pictures of water bugs and listen to the birds calling. On our way again, we continued our trek across the island, stopping again when we found a small gift shop to explore. After we finished with the gift shop I wasn't to be deterred again. We were close. We had exited the canopy of trees. The ground to either side of the road had become sand, the air felt just so slightly different.

Spying an empty parking space for the golf cart I parked the cart and waited impatiently as mom fiddled with her stuff before we climbed out of the cart. I eyed the small dunes in front of me, tall grass grew through the sand of the dunes and swayed in the breeze. I could hear the waves but couldn't see the water yet. It was so close. Finally, I kicked off my shoes and stuffed them into the storage for the cart and gingerly made my way over to the sand. I couldn't wait anymore for mom to finish. I climbed the steps to a boardwalk and crested the dune, there it was, the Atlantic. So close and yet a distance to cover still. I moved quickly now, the wood of the boardwalk was sanded smooth and my concern of splinters evaporated. At the end of the boardwalk I stepped down to small steps into the sand and dug my toes in. I reached down and picked up a handful of Atlantic ocean sand and let it sift through my fingers. I was finally there, the Atlantic Ocean.

The Trip Tunes

Every trip I've taken, music has been a big driving force moving me along in my journeys. I have rocked out to Rascal Flatt's Life is a Highway while flying down the freeway toward California. I've been soothed by the soundtrack to Under the Tuscan Sun while driving through a vineyard. I've been awed by the mountains of Yosemite while the strains of soft guitar music played in the background.

Every time I plan a trip I spend time at my computer, I go through my amazon playlist and determine which songs should make the playlist cut this time around. I take hours burning CD's (yes I'm still old school with my CD's) and getting the songs in order. On my trips, there are times that certain songs just fit the occasion so perfectly that I can't help but be transported back to the trip I was on when that song plays.

Every time I listen to my Nat King Cole CD I'm reminded of my trip with mom as we drove on the I-40 toward Solvang. When I listen to Lenka's Bright Side of Life I'm back on the road through the mountains into Page. Jan Krist's Parallel Universe sends me back onto a plane from Michigan after an amazing week with family. Train's Save Me San Francisco takes me to the moment when we finally hit the road to drive to San Francisco. I mentally stand on the beach watching the waves crash as I listen to The Sound of Spring's Track 3 a beautiful song with an acoustic bass guitar leading the song. Even now as I describe these songs and how they tied to beautiful moments of my life I'm flying about the country quickly reliving the feelings and the events of those trips.

Music is a big deal for me, I love listening to it and love using it to pep up my energy when I'm getting tired. If I'm dragging a bit but have more time on the road, perhaps I'll pop on Sheryl Crow's Everyday is a Winding Road or Reel Big Fish's Bitchin Camaro. If I'm stressed and tired, maybe I'll listen to a little Louis Armstrong or Mindy Gledhill. All I know, music is a major factor in my trips and it is a large part of what make my journeys beautiful.

Crazy Weather

There have been several trips I've taken, alone and with family, where we experienced some of the extreme weather America has to offer. I have a fascination with weather, if I were better at math, I might've explored a career in meteorology. Alas though, that goal was thwarted when I barely made it through College Algebra despite the constant daily battle to achieve a passing grade.

However, though, the fascination I held in my experiences with weather has stayed with me through to today. There was the heart pounding night spent in the basement of my aunt's home in Michigan while a tornado warning was in effect. The storm raging above us, and no one knew what exactly would happen. I remember the lightning though. Were I a little older, it might have been less terrifying and more fascinating. On another day, that same trip, we were in Indiana driving to a friend's home after a corn festival. The weather was bad but calm where we were. I vaguely remember a tornado way in the distance. None of the adults seemed worried so I never thought anything of it. I just watched it through the car window it was so still and so small. I just remember the odd way it looked with a line of cloud going to the ground. It was so small it almost didn't seem real to me. 

There was another trip to Michigan where I was alone, trying to find my way to my aunt's home. A storm was rolling in and there was a tornado watch in effect which meant look out, there's one around and it's on the ground. I did what you aren't supposed to do and drove into the storm. Where I had been was calm, not raining. As I drove to my aunt's, I drove directly into the storm. I was lucky though. I made it safely to her house despite all my worries. It was a rather scary experience and I was shaking by the time I made it to her place. Not an experience to forget.

Finally, was a hike I took with my mom in Colorado. This is one hike I'll never forget. The skies were blue and clear when we headed out by lunch the storm clouds started to gather so we decided to head back out. We barely made it halfway back to the car when the storm unleashed its fury. Rain poured, lighting struck way too close for comfort and thunder pounded. We donned our ponchos and ran (looking like turtles with our packs covered up) as fast as we could to get back to the car. 

There have been times I have experienced the wildness weather has to offer. The most extreme experiences, save one, have occurred while I was on vacation and crazy enough all in Indiana or Michigan. It was exciting and scary all at the same time. Not something I'd want to experience again but it won't keep me from visiting those states again. Because even though the weather can be extreme, the memories from those trips are ones that I'll never forget.