The Epic Expedition: Week One

When a great adventure is offered, you don't refuse it. -Amelia Earhart

Day 1:

Virginia Beach waved farewell and the mid-Atlantic disappeared in the rearview mirror by late afternoon. A solid 8 hours later we rolled into Asheville, North Carolina. The one mission for the first day of this trip was to eat at “Salsa” in downtown Asheville. When we realized that our arrival was going to be past the restaurant’s closing time, we needed to act fast to make certain that this mission was a success. Leah called ahead and begged them to have our order ready, then we promised to be “just a few minutes past 10:00pm” to pick it up. The Mexican-Caribbean cuisine was well worth the effort. Grilled tortilla pockets filled with adobe steak, brie, grilled onions, roasted veggies, and annatto-coconut sauce created a flavor experience that hit the spot at the end of a long but successful opening day. 

Day 2:

Back on the road. The morning sun sparkled like a gold coin in the cloudless sky… until smoke billowed up from a ravine on the left side of the road. A few miles later it wafted across the highway and a bit further it enveloped the whole of the landscape. Without any flames there was no need for alarm. Coming out of the fog it was clear, there’s a reason why they’re called The Smoky Mountains.

Have you ever daydreamed about petting pink elephants and wished that a genie would come through on this one request? I thought so. I am here to tell you that wishes do come true so never give up on dreaming the impossible. 

The mission for day two was to sneak into Nashville, Tennessee. With the help of my brother in law, Sean, my sister, Kari was surprised and excited when she came home from the gym to see us sitting in her living room. I heart surprises. Spanning the diversity that is NashVegas, the early evening saw us at a luau in a horse pasture complete with a carriage ride on the historical property of The Hermitage. Then, the late night took us to the Coyote Ugly Saloon to make our own bit of history. I cannot confirm or deny that dancing on the bar occurred. 

Day 3:

If you find yourself in Nashville, let me recommend that you pump iron at the downtown YMCA. Three levels of state of the art workout equipment, including a cardio cinema, a rooftop pool as well as an indoor pool, and a spotless locker-room / lounge. If sweating is not your thing, you can still be a part of the action by gettin’ your groove on in the rocking chairs provided in the main workout area.

No visit to Nash would be complete without getting a dose of live music. Music City didn’t disappoint. We stopped by 3^rd and Lindsley, a local dive bar, for an evening with Andy Hackbarth and Jessica Campbell. Live music is soothing to the soul. And with that, we wrapped up our stay in middle Tennessee. 

Day 4:

Crossing over the Mighty Mississippi River, Arkansas greeted us with cotton fields and sparse patches of changing leaves. Little Rock was the stop of the day. Leah’s aunt and uncle extended their hospitality to us in their beautiful home overlooking the Arkansas River. 

Day 5:

Downtown Little Rock may be known for the Clinton Presidential Library but Leah and I were there for something far more exciting. The Peabody Hotel duck parade. At precisely 11am, five Mallards came down the elevator to the lobby from their penthouse duck palace. The Duck Master directed them as they marched to John Phillips Sousa. They waddled down the red carpet to take their place in the fountain where they swim from 11a to 5p each day. 

Day 6:

Day of R & R in Arlington, Texas

The Epic Expedition

"People grow through experience if they meet life honestly and courageously. This is how character is built."         - Eleanor Roosevelt

Today is the start of what has been termed The Epic Expedition.

For the next 3 weeks I will be joining a dear friend on the road as we traverse from sea to shining sea of these United States.

To set this up, I must tell you about the pioneer of this journey. Back when I was a youngin’ of 10 years old, my family moved from Florida to Colorado. Soon after, my parents put my 2 younger sisters and I in AWANA at the local Baptist church. It was there that we met Jenine and Leah, our first friends in the new town. My sister Kari and I became best friends with this pair of sisters. There was 4-H, camping, milking cows, irrigating pastures, riding horses, raising sheep, and of course the discovery of boys. All of these things led to outlandish shenanigans for which the stories are endless. Western Colorado was (and still is) the country way of life and we extracted all that we could from it as we grew up together.

Now we are all grown up.

Leah is a helicopter pilot in the Navy and has been based in Virginia Beach, VA for several years.  She has new orders in the Seattle, WA area and has asked me to join her as she moves her life from coast to coast. Leah is one of the most amazing people in my life and it is my pleasure to share this time of transition with her.

So, with 4,120 miles in front of us, we are setting out on the Epic Expedition.

Stay tuned for tales from the road…

Anxiety Alighted

At 4:08am the switch in my brain flipped to the “on” position. Wide-awake. The last time I looked at the clock it was 1:32am, a few brief hours ago. Turning on my left side, I fluffed the pillow, pulled the covers up and folded my hands underneath my chin. After 4 minutes of lying there with my eyes closed but my head deep in the ocean of thoughts, I turned to the opposite side. Once again, I tried all the same things to get my brain to fall back asleep.

Like the white noise of the box fan in my window, anxiety has been filling the background lately. Some days I don’t want to eat anything. Other days I make up for it by eating everything. At times I don’t want to see or talk to anyone. Other times I can’t stand to be alone. I am tired during the day and can’t sleep at night. There are no tears, just a lot of nerves.

What is the next step? Will I move? How will I pay the bills? Who will be in my life? How will the landscape of my relationships change? What do I really want to be pursuing right now? What is my direction? WHERE IS MY PLAN?  The reasons to be anxious flood me.

I am learning that the unanswered questions aren’t the end of the world. The lack of direction, though completely unnerving, makes room for new possibilities and lends the place for a change of course. The uncertainty that my head wants to control and my heart wants to dispel is teaching me to trust.

Be still my anxious heart… and let my brain go back to sleep. 

Healing Is Taking So Long

Sometimes we miss a dip in the road and life rips us open without notice. Then, we set out in search of healing…

A few months back, while out for a jog, I tripped on uneven pavement. It was a beautifully executed wipe out. I went down on one knee as both palms ate tiny gravel beads as if they were candy nerds. I picked the small rocks out of my hands and immediately my left knee burned. Looking down, I had just become the recipient of a classic ‘strawberry’. Blood and plasma made the wound glossy. All the skin was shaved off the surface of my kneecap as if it was a smoothly peeled mango. I quickly scanned the park to see how many people saw my little spill because let’s face it; no one wants to fall down in front of other people. No one seemed to notice or if they did, they didn’t stare or come running so I limped back to the house, 33 years old with the embarrassing injury of a 5 year old.

Over the following 2 weeks, the sharp sting of raw flesh subsided and the color turned from bright red to black. Slowly, a crusty scab formed a protective layer over the ‘strawberry’ on my knee. Every effort was made to keep it lathered with antibiotic ointment and bandaged so no infection would set in. Whenever I walked or sat down or stood up or moved at all, I was reminded that it was still there. The pain, though dull by now, was still present. Finally, the day came when the bandage and the ointment needed to step aside and let the open-air aid in the healing process. Each bend of the knee made me wince as walking and moving normally caused the scab to crack open. Still, I couldn’t stop because the movement was creating elasticity in the new skin that was forming under the scab.

Eventually, after a while longer (longer than I imagined a scraped knee should take) the scab finished falling off and it appeared to be healed. That is, until I was sitting on the floor one afternoon and put all my weight on the left knee as I got up on my feet. The pang of discomfort caught me off guard. My hands instinctively reached out to take the pressure off the knee. It was then I realized that although the open wound had healed, beneath the skin, the bruise was taking longer.

After 5 weeks, the skinned knee finally returned to full working order. However, it still doesn’t look the same as the other knee. The scar has a darker shade of flesh and serves as a reminder of a single misstep.

Healing hurts. It’s a process, not an overnight fix. Sometimes when we think we are ok, we find out that we need more time. 

Rodeos and Gunfights

For those who have always known the hustle and bustle of the east coast or any metropolitan area for that matter, you may think that the Wild Wild West doesn’t exist any longer. I am here to tell you that it does in fact exist. Where, you ask? In the small towns nestled between mountain peaks and high altitude passes.

The local rodeo and the town gunfight are proof that the Wild West still lives. I experienced both on my recent visit to Colorado.

Silverton, Colorado is a two-horse town. The names of those horses are Sony and Cher. They pull the stagecoach up Main Street and down “Notorious” Blair Street, which also happens to be where the gunfight took place. The sheriff drew his six-shooter on a band of outlaws with names like Phoenix, Okie Joe and The Kid right there in the middle of the street. Passersby and those in the Shady Lady Saloon poured into the street to witness the shootout. Not something you see everyday in the rest of the country but there, in that quaint old mining town, history lives on even in the 21^st century.

 Sony and Cher

Durango, Colorado on the other hand, is a full-fledged town.  The way I know that Durango is full on is because they have a Walmart. I mean, when Walmart comes to town, it’s a big deal.  Even so, Durango hasn’t lost its Wild West status because they still have a rodeo. These cowboys and cowgirls aren’t going to be in Vegas for the championships anytime soon but they still lace up their ropers and strap on their spurs each week and give it a go. Once again, not something that I have seen many other places in my travels across this land but out in the west, it’s still for real.  

The littlest cowboys ride sheep.

The mid-sized cowboys ride steers.

The big boys do a little roping.

Chasing Waterfalls

Unexpectedly, the waterfall theme emerged while on vacay in Colorado.

 I heart waterfalls and the unique beauty that each one has. 

Let me introduce you to some of them.  

Cascade Falls - Ouray, CO

Although difficult to photograph because it is nestled in a canyon, the roar of this waterfall is deafening.

Box Canyon Falls - Ouray, CO

This one was at 11,160 feet above sea level

Animas Forks, CO

It was raining the day we searched for this one. 

The vertical drop fell in symmetrical tiers.

Silverton, CO

This one we came across while hiking but we had no idea what else we would find on this hike.

Cascade Creek - Between Durango and Silverton, CO

This is what we found.  

We had to literally walk up the creek to get to it because although we could hear it, there was no trail that let us get close to it. 

It's worth seeing from a few different angles

It took the most struggle to get to, but was by far, the best waterfall.

Cascade Creek - Between Durango and Silverton, CO

Imogene Pass - Between Telluride and Ouray, CO

Grace

Today I need to be reminded what grace is.
Because today I need grace...

Bono:

"You see, at the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics—in physical laws—every action is met by an equal or an opposite one. It's clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the universe. I'm absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that "as you reap, so you will sow" stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff."

Grace, she takes the blame 
She covers the shame 
Removes the stain 
It could be her name 

Grace, it's a name for a girl 
It's also a thought that changed the world 

And when she walks on the street 
You can hear the strings 
Grace finds goodness in everything 

Grace, she's got the walk 
Not on a ramp or on chalk 
She's got the time to talk 
She travels outside of karma, karma 
She travels outside of karma 

When she goes to work
You can hear the strings 
Grace finds beauty in everything 

Grace, she carries a world on her hips 
No champagne flute for her lips 
No twirls or skips between her fingertips 
She carries a pearl in perfect condition 
What once was hurt, what once was friction 
What left a mark no longer stains 
Because Grace makes beauty out of ugly things

Grace finds beauty in everything 
Grace finds goodness in everything


~Lyrics to "Grace" by U2