Travel Anxiety and Tummy Butterflies

 Every time I start a new journey, I feel butterflies in my tummy. Anything from a 2-day journey to starting a whole new adventure, those pretty little bugs start flitting around. 

The nerves sit with me while I book hotels, get tickets to events or shows, and start my travel itinerary. They stay while I get my flight or reserve a car rental. In my mind, I have the "what-ifs" making an appearance. 

• What if I'm spending too much money?
• What if I get sick?
• What if the car breaks down?
• What if I get stranded or something catastrophic happens?

I push through the nerves and the worries and push the confirm button to make the payment or the reservation. 

My nerves dance again as I near the start of each journey. I'm an early-to-the-gate girly who has to get through airport security and locate my gate to make sure it exists before I go and get a coffee before the flight. I'm a pack, check my list, and recheck my bag to ensure I have everything before I load my car. I struggle with stopping for food. Sit-down restaurants are out of the question when I'm about to drive somewhere.

Once I'm at my airport gate and have seen that it's real. Once I've topped off my gastank and am officially on the road. Once I've started the journey, the nerves all go away. I find that fear isn't needed and that it is replaced with joy and anticipation of what's to come.

I look forward to exploring new places, seeing new things, and having new experiences. What will the trip have in store for me? 

While I love exploring and dreaming, and planning my trips, there's always a little bit of nerves dancing around the edges. Over the years, those nerves still play on my mind, but I've learned to just go with it. 

Have things gone wrong in the past? Absolutely. I've stayed in hotels/motels that were less than ideal. I've checked into places that I immediately "noped" out of and checked right back out to find somewhere else to stay. I've had car issues, including a rental with a check engine light that was on and had to go back into the rental office at 1:00 am to demand a different car (I did have to demand since they weren't exactly helpful or willing to exchange to another vehicle). I've nearly run out of gas and had a friend come to rescue me. I've had my car towed for miles when it died. I've nearly missed flights due to various complications.

Despite the challenges, though, I know I can handle them. I know there are solutions and people who are always willing to help. I've learned that I can rely on myself to work through less-than-ideal situations. 

In the end, whether my experiences were good or bad, I'm left with memories that will always be mine and stories to share. As I embark on future journeys, I look forward to what butterfly-inducing activities I'll experience.

Getting Lost on Vacation

It's been over ten years since I went to Ireland, and I still remember and follow the one piece of advice that I was given: "Allow yourself time to get lost." This one little bit of advice was a complete game-changer on my trips. 

Crossing the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge.

When we travel, we create itineraries and to-dos that are jammed full of places to visit or things to do, and end up exhausted by the end of the trip. I've learned over the years to include spare time on my travels, whether it be a short drive day or allotting more time than needed when visiting a particular location. This strategy has paid off in more ways than I can count. 

In 2013, my mom and I traveled to Ireland for three weeks, and that's the first time we were given the advice to allow extra time to "get lost." While I never actually got lost in any of these adventures, it has become my motto. My getting lost hasn't been anything geographical, but rather, it's getting lost in the moment, in the adventure, or in the beauty.

This was the first time I "got lost," and this was one of those times that wrapped the beauty, the moment, and the adventure into one. My mom had been in Ireland for a few days and had driven from Waterford to the coast to see the Hook Light House. The day had been an adventure from my first journey on a car ferry to seeing the rugged black rocks along the Ireland coast. 

On the drive back to Waterford, we'd been waiting to catch the car ferry back across the river. While waiting, I spied a sign for the Kilmokea Country Manor and Tea Gardens. I glanced at Mom, who was reading the same sign as the ferry came into view. I asked her, "Should we do that?"  She happily agreed, and we were off. I quickly pulled out of the car ferry line, and we followed the signs to the manor. This adventure led us to meeting a wonderful man who invited us in for tea and a treat, and an open invitation to explore the gardens after he'd closed up the shop. That became an afternoon turning to evening in gardens that captured the imagination and made me think of The Secret Garden, Alice and Wonderland, and even fairy stories.

Although this experience was over ten years ago, I still remember it with such clarity and detail as if it just happened. This was my first time understanding what exactly it meant to allow time to get lost.

The hike to Tipanogos Caverns.

Since then, I've enjoyed other "lost" moments, including the unexpected exploration of the Hall of Mosses in Olympic National Park, a great spice and tea shop in Port Townsend, WA, and hiking to the Tipanogos Caverns in Utah. It's also suddenly getting the gumption to cross the Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge in Ireland or chancing a drive up a muddy road to a dude ranch, hoping to ride a horse.

Savoring that Irish Coffee
 while enjoying my book.

Getting lost is taking extra time in a museum you enjoyed or taking a quiet moment in a Las Vegas casino bar while sipping a drink and enjoying a book, yes, you read that right, I read a book, in a bar, in Vegas, and I enjoyed every moment!

No matter the circumstance, taking time to get lost on my adventures has paid off in so many ways. I've met some fantastic people, including two Australians who cheered me on across the rope bridge, a tea house owner who invited us to explore enchanting gardens, a German who was seeing Death Valley for the first time, and so many others. I've had some incredible experiences and gained so many amazing memories in those moments where I allowed myself the time and just be.  "Allow yourself time to get lost" has been the best advice I've ever been given. I use it in my vacation travels, and I even use it in my day-to-day, where I drive up to Sedona and Cottonwood to play tourist for a day. As you go out and adventure, do yourself that favor and give yourself the time...and permission, to get lost.

Driving through Olympic National Park and to the Hall of Moss

 Imagine taking a drive through a forest of trees that are bigger than you could even begin to imagine. Now imagine those trees are not just the normal green leaves with a brown trunk, instead imagine them covered in all green. This is a real place, and it belongs to the Olympic National Park in Washington State. 

I've been lucky enough to visit Olympic National Park twice, but I have barely scratched its surface. This beautiful park has so many views to offer. Along the coastline, you'll see beautiful trees along sandy beaches, some hikes through burled trees, and along small streams. If you're lucky, you can catch a Bald Eagle in flight, snatching a quick flash of brown, yellow, and white as it flies overhead.

As you drive Hwy 101 along the Washington coastline, there's a turnoff that is a must-see, the Upper Hoh Road to the Hall of Moss trailhead. As you drive in, you are greeted by massive trees and beautiful forest, where along the road, you'll catch views of the Hoh River and snatches of mountains.

Along the way, be sure to make a quick pit stop at Peak 6 Tours & Gift Shop. There are some great souvenirs at this little roadside stop, and during my stop there, I was lucky enough to have two one-of-a-kind experiences. First, around the back of the shop, where the bathrooms/porta potties (unfortunately) are set up, there is a massive field just beyond a wooden fence. In that field, a herd of elk was grazing, having their dinner. It was so cool to have the space to myself in absolute silence, be able to watch the elk. No loud people, no jostling for space to have a view. It was me, the elk, and my thoughts.

Eventually, I made my way back inside the store and noticed that behind the counter were several antique cameras. That day, I happened to be there when the owner of the shop and of those cameras was working. He told me the story behind each camera, including one that had been smuggled out of Germany during World War II. I recognized one camera to be what I believe is a Brownie Haweye camera and had to take a pic as my mom remembered that as being her first camera as a kid. The owner was so nice as he shared story after story on each camera and where they came from, which family member owned it, and as he told his stories, it was clear to see just how much each one meant.

Eventually, my travels took me back to the road, and I made my way further down Upper Hoh Road toward the Hall of Moss trailhead. The size of the trees was staggering, but what sticks with me most was the realization that despite the trees and broken limbs, and other, what would normally be hard and sharp surfaces were all rounded, and soft. Not one sharp edge, instead it was moss-covered. No tree limb was clearly defined between branch and leaf; they were dripping with moss.

I will admit, I have not yet hiked the Hall of Moss trail. The last two times I've been through the area, the first time the area was closed. The second time, it was so cold outside that my toes and nose were numb just from walking to the visitor center from my car. That was enough for me. If you travel to Olympic National Park in November, be prepared for cold and damp weather. Even if the sun is out, you'll largely be in the shade, and it is COLD! 

However, I'll never forget the brilliant greens and the beauty that Mother Nature puts on display in Olympic National Park. I'll always remember how I felt dwarfed by the massive trees in the park and how everywhere I turned, there was a picturesque view to behold.

One day, I plan to return, perhaps this time in the summer months when temperatures are warmer and the days are longer. The nice trade-off of traveling off season is fewer crowds, but the downside leaves very short days to explore and requires a bit more resilience to colder weather. In my future travels through Olympic National Park, I'll make a point of visiting places I've missed, like 2nd Beach, where trees grow off building-size boulders sitting in the Pacific Ocean, and make my way up to Cape Flattery and the westernmost point of Washington state. Then, of course, I'll return to Upper Hoh Road and make my way down to the Hall of Moss. With just the drive in and out being as beautiful as it was, I can only imagine that to earn the name it did, the Hall of Moss trail must be absolutely breathtaking. I can't wait to see it in person.