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.

Coffee and Travel

There have been many times on my travels around the country that I've had a desire for something yummy to drink. A tasty concoction of coffee, milk, and yumminess to make fantastic mochas or lattes just for me to enjoy.

In Ireland I had some wonderful lattes, just simple plain and delicious. No flavors, no sugar unless I added it to the drink. Regardless. the simplicity was wonderful and very enjoyable.

In Montana I had a mixture of crappy coffee and yummy drinks all designed to keep the one who drinks moving forward. In California on many different trips out there were some great places and some terrible places. All of which I wouldn't trade in the experience.

There are two experiences that I won't forget anytime soon. The first was in Seattle. (Imagine that, good coffee in Seattle.) The place was recommended to me by a dad and daughter who were going around Seattle looking for the best coffee around in a non-chain business. They'd turned up at the same crumpet shop just outside of Pike Place Market as my mom and I had looking for another excellent breakfast. We were all so sad when we learned they'd been closed that day. The dad however had great news, just upstairs from where we stood was a small coffee shop with excellent coffee. So off we went for our drinks to Storyville coffee. I ordered a mocha, mom a hot chocolate. The drinks were topped with foam designed to look like a heart. We were just so jazzed at this little bonus. I'd never had any design put on the top of a coffee before. We walked along the streets of Seattle enjoying our creamy, delicious hot beverages, perfect on a chilly, cloudy morning.

The second experience I loved was on the first day of what I've come to dub as "Epic Road Trip number 1." It was a solo journey I took driving from Phoenix to Fresno, then Yosemite, San Francisco, Sacramento, South Lake Tahoe, Las Vegas, and home. My first day on the road was my longest day, over 8 hours of driving to get from Phoenix, AZ to Fresno, CA. I'd made it as far as Redlands, California just south of San Bernadino and was starting to drag. I'd been on the road for a few hours and still had a few more to go. It was time for a coffee stop and a break from the car. I didn't know where I needed to go but picked an exit at random and pulled into a shopping center. I figured at this point I could hunt up a coffee shop on my phone. Before I started my hunt I spotted a small hole in the wall donut shop. From my experience, oftentimes little places like this often had the best coffee drinks to offer. So off I went to this little place. I was so glad to once again be right about the offerings. I walked into the place and this small woman was behind the counter. She was so friendly and cheerful. I asked if they had coffee drinks like lattes and mochas and she cheerfully exclaimed "YES!" I  asked if I could use the facilities before I ordered, she said "YES!" When I came back out I asked for her input on the best drink, she said I should get the vanilla blended coffee. So I did. She then asked "You want a donut? You will have a donut." I opened my wallet but only had enough cash on hand to pay for the coffee so I declined the donut explaining I had just enough for the drink at that time. She smiled, "Okay, you'll get a donut hole then." Without even asking she hands me the donut hole, takes my money just for the drink and then heads off to make my coffee. She was just such a friendly lady and still today I smile a little to myself as I think about that little lady who was just so cheerful and told me to come back the next day for more coffee and donuts even though she knew I was just passing through. What a fun little moment of that journey and one I'll take with me.

It is fun to think back on my travels and remember all the little moments in looking for coffee or just the interaction with others while looking for coffee. So I guess, the end result is a rich creamy tasty treat to warm me up on cold days or cool off on hot days. But the biggest reward are those moments with other people and the memories made.

A Visit to the Gulf Coast

It was hot, it was humid, but it was gorgeous! I'd spent the day driving from Houston to Galveston, TX. I'd spent time on the beach after a fantastic lunch looking out at the pier turned amusement park. I'd watched school groups as they raced across the street barely kept in check and in the crosswalks by the teachers and chaperones as they desperately tried to keep the children's excitement at bay. I'd wandered through some gift shops and walked out on a large rock jetty and watched the muddy waters of the gulf coast churn.

Now I stood on another pier, just a little farther up the coast. I stood on the black and white checked walkway and listened to the screams coming from the roller coaster that roared overhead. I sipped my icy cold coffee drink as I wandered the Kemah Boardwalk of Kemah, TX. Although it was still quiet yet, there was an air of expectation of the amusement park. It was growing late in the day and families would  start to arrive as the work week drew to a close. I watched the Ferris wheel make a lazy circle only partially filled with amusement makers. I wandered the shops, enjoying the slightly cooler air while wondering why on earth they only had swamp coolers instead of air conditioner.

 Before long I found myself back outside wandering along the waters edge feeling the cooler air coming in off the bay and enjoyed the view of the water, the people passing by and the movement of the various rides. Several seagulls sat perched on the rails of the boardwalk as well as precariously balanced on the streetlights. There were a number that hung nearby watching closely for someone to drop some breadcrumbs or a treat of some kind just for their consumption. Then it happened. The trigger that turned the peaceful scene into potential competition for Hitchcock's The Birds. An unwitting passerby decided he wanted to feed the fish and purchased some food from a gumball style machine. The coins clinked, the gears ground and the young man pulled the food from the machine that fell into the bottom.

I could almost hear it, the cry of "Mine" much as in Finding Nemo coming from the seagulls. They came out of the woodwork, there were so many and they hovered, clambered to get to the young man with the handful of fish food. He had no shot in feeding the fish. He, his parents, and sister looked up and around with fear at the greedy birds that had surrounded them. I thought to myself, it might be time to move on. I don't want to get pooped on. As if my thought conjured the bird droppings, a white streak zinged through the air to plop just to my left.  I turned to hightail it out of the area before I became an unlucky target. Just as I turned the corner I saw the boy shriek "Go away" as he flung the food far away and his family headed in the opposite direction. There was certainly a lesson in that moment. Don't feed the wildlife, especially when there are seagulls involved.

Books!!

It occurs to me that I must have a strange idea of what constitutes the perfect souvenir for each journey I take. Some will get lost in gift shops finding a cute little decoration of some kind, a vase, a cute figurine, or even an ornament. For some they'll pick up a sticker to put on the car or in a journal. The list of what people bring home for travel mementos is endless. I'll admit I've been in the habit of looking for magnets for each city I visit. I love looking at my fridge and recalling all the places I"ve been. I've also taken to getting a pretty Christmas ornament to put on my tree as a reminder of where I've been.

My favorite habit though is one that most don't do. I also hunt out a book shop to visit on my trips. In Ireland, I brought home four magnets and five books. Seattle, two magazines and four books. Montana two books. You get the picture. It's fun for me to read my books and remember where I got them. Heck the books I purchased in Ireland even have the euro price stickers on them. It's just fun for me.

Perhaps it is a little odd, but for a book lover like me, I love the memories tied to my books. In some cases, the books are set in the locations where I was on my trip. I love reading the books I picked up in Ireland as they are all set in England, Scottland, or Ireland. I get to read the ones set in Ireland and smile as the characters move through places I've been. It is just such a fun habit for me.

I'd guess my favorite part of having books as souvenirs is that not only do I take an actual journey but I get to travel again through the authors imagination between the covers of a book.

An Irish Fright

“You can go in groups of three.” The man says jovially, like what he is offering is just a lighthearted romp through a field of flowers. Instead though he is urging all the guests of our tour group a trip through their haunted house. Mom and I both decline the offer, the idea of going through a haunted house is not exactly our idea of fun. The three Australians in our group decide to go along with it. Two of the guys are excited at the prospect of entering a haunted house, the third however, is a little more reluctant.

So mom and I watch, laughing as the two men who are excited about entering force the third to stand in the front of the group. Our tour guide opens the door for them and explains to us that they go in groups of three because the first gets the surprise, the second can still be shocked, the third might not be as surprised but they can still get the third person. Any group larger than that then the fourth and fifth and so on won’t get scared at all. Just as he explains this we hear a bang and a roar on the other side of the wall followed by a scream and loud laughter.

I look around at the displays of the history of Ireland during the potato famine and try to concentrate on the sadness the displays attempt to convey and fail miserably. The bangs, screams, and laughter continue as the three men make their way through the haunted house. I give up and find myself staring at the black wall as mom, the tour guide and I follow the screams, groans, and hoots of laughter. We briefly discuss the woes of how early advertisers start on Christmas advertising. Our tour guide says, “They barely wait until Halloween is over before they start to stuff Christmas down your throat.” We can relate, and tell him that at least in Ireland there aren’t any major holidays between Halloween and Christmas, Thanksgiving is pretty much overshadowed by Christmas. The conversation quickly fades off as the three men in the haunted house suddenly get louder just before they break through a door and onto the walkway where we are. They are red-faced and guffawing as they try to convince mom and myself to complete the haunted house. We briefly argue that if the other goes first we might consider going but neither wants to give in and be the one scared first. In the end we were a couple of wimps but it sure was fun listening to those Aussies. 

Tiny Plane Rides

Here we were. Ready to take off in a little tiny plane. I was heading to Idaho Falls from Denver in a baby plane, a planelette if you will. Nerves bumped a bit higher than normal at boarding when i saw people checking bags that would normally fall under "carry-on" status but were now too big to fit. if you don't believe this plane was tiny, let's put it this way. It is 13 rows long, 2 seats on each side of the aisle, no first class (not enough room), 1 bathroom, and 1 flight attendant. After we boarded, I settled, determined to relax. Then my nerves bumped up again when the crew asked for one passenger to move from the front to the back of the plane to "balance the plane load."

I mentally worked to calm myself and had nearly succeeded when we began to taxi. That's when my brain kicked in. An internal argument warred between crazy unreasonable me and sane reasonable me both shouting to get my attention. First thought, "Wow, I can feel every bump & hear every noise." Interesting observation until unreasonable me chimes in with "Yeah, but how do you know which noise and which bumps are normal?"

We zip down the runway and normal me thinks "This is safe, you rarely hear news stories on plane crashes anymore." Crazy me: "Yeah, the only one's you hear about now are the crashes with little planes...like this one."

As we hurtle down the runway, eventually lifting away from the earth, the cabin rattles, something behind me squeaks with every bump. Thankfully we level out and the squeaks and bumps stop. However, I swear the plane jiggles a bit as my seatmate jiggles her leg. Also, I think I just heard a conversation from the front of the plane?

Eventually, the one attendant makes her way up the aisle handing out snacks and drinks. It doesn't take long to reach the back of the plane where I am. I guess that's the upside to a small plane. Hey, I was thirsty.