ALL ROADS LEAD TO ALASKA: Descending to The Lower 48.

Our direct departure from Seward was rerouted because of road closures, but this offered us a second chance drive through Denali National Park. The road from Seward to Anchorage was lined with wild flowers and kettle ponds covered with blooming lily pads. Spring had finally caught up with us and the entire drive back down to the lower 48 was bright with fresh growth and lime green leaves. Having learned our lesson from the drive up to Alaska, this time we packed the van with the freshest, best quality food we could find, which is difficult in remote Alaska, and lengthened our driving time each day. Even driving six to seven hours a day, it still took us approximately a week to reach the lower 48 from Seward.

We voted against trying the road less traveled from Alaska. We figured it was better to drive the devil we knew rather than the devil we didn’t know. With all the frost heaves, road construction, and gravel, it wasn’t until a paved straight away in Alberta that we were “kissed” by a rock, chipping our windshield. Thanks to Speedy Glass the chip was filled and we were on our way to Jasper and Banff National Parks in British Columbia. Voted the most beautiful drive in the world, we slowed our roll and relished in the natural beauty of the Ice fields Parkway. This is my happy place. After a grueling week on the road, we treated ourselves to a few days at the Emerald Lake Lodge and their romance package of bed, breakfast, and gourmet dinners of Rocky Mountain Cuisine.

In every state and country service was limited due to lack of staffing. Along with help wanted signs, we spotted promises of higher wages, benefits, and even signing bonuses. Lodges, restaurants, and stores can’t keep up with the demand of all the tourists because they can’t get people to work. I didn’t realize how limited and expensive the food selection in Alaska was until we stopped at a grocery outside Jasper National Park. I felt like Robin Williams in Moscow on the Hudson and all the amazing food options available.

After several days of pampering in paradise, we traversed the back roads toward Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. Northern Idaho is stunning. Unfortunately, our golf game at Coeur d’Alene Golf Resort and it’s iconic floating green was rained out, so we settled for a drive and walk along the beautiful lake and ended the day with the best meal we had in several weeks at the rooftop restaurant in the resort. At Beverly’s Restaurant we started with the Penn Cove mussels in a white wine saffron broth and chorizo, followed by lobster risotto and perfectly seared sea scallops, while sipping a huckleberry martini. Oh my. I’d like to spend more time in the area in the future. It’s just beautiful. The idealic little towns scattered along the Snake River on our drive south through Idaho, made us wish we had brought a fishing road. While we walked and lunched along the river, many locals and tourists alike pulled off just to fish a quite hole.

We reluctantly left beautiful Idaho and with the warmer weather on our side, we opted to avoid the I-15 through Utah’s busy cities and settled in Park City. After a quick drive up the mountains outside Salt Lake City, the narrow hills gave way to meadows, reservoirs, red earth and scrubby pines lined with skiing, mountain biking, and off roading trails. Houses and condos in many phases of build are popping up all over this mountain town, only minutes away from the bigger cities – a common them we’ve witnessed in all states and provinces. While new builds are abundant, the light pollution is still low, allowing for the stars to blaze brightly blanketing the evening sky.

After 9,423 total miles on the road, we landed safely at our desert home in Las Vegas. Where it seems is the end of the rainbow.

JUST THE FACTS

Mileage – 9,423. Miles per gallon – 22. Average cost for gas $6.00

Time: 2 months total. 2 weeks each way to Alaska and 4 weeks spent in Alaska.

Food: We usually eat breakfast and lunch made from the van on the road or between excursions and treat ourselves to a local dinner from the “best” restaurant in the area.

Nights: We prefer to spend our nights outside of cities in National or State parks. They’re quieter and more peaceful than RV parks. Harvest Host overnight parking locations are also great because they usually pair with our favorite outings like golf courses, wineries, breweries, museums, but they were limited in and around Alaska. Even though we set out to stay at a hotel every Sunday, we again found ourselves more comfortable in our little van and opted to forego hauling our stuff and the dog in for just one or two nights.

If I were to do it again…I would take our van up the California, Oregon, and Washington Coast and park/store it in Seattle or Vancouver. Then Board a cruise along the inside passage to the Kenai Peninsula, where I would rent a camper van or a SUV and tour the area for 2-3 weeks, then fly back to Seattle and drive another byway home. A second option would be to ferry from Bellingham with our van from port to port to the Kenai Peninsula and do the same back, but this would take planning way in advance because the car/RV ferries book up early.

All Roads Lead to Alaska

Where the Mountains and Ice Meet the Ocean – Denali National Park and Kenai Peninsula

Once we arrived to Alaska proper, we hit the ground running. Enough with the driving, now was time to do some exploring. Denali National park, a short 3-hour drive south of Fairbanks, is a wildlife mecca. In our campsite, on our hikes, and touring the tundra and permafrost drunk forests we spotted four of the big five game (dal sheep, moose, caribou, and grizzly) that call Denali home. The elusive wolf stayed hidden. As with many national parks, the rangers gave talks and demonstrations. Unique to Alaska was the demonstration of the rangers sled dogs, which is their mode of transportation during the snowy winters.

A few days later we strolled around the cute rustic town of Talkeetna for lunch alfresco at Talkeetna Alaskan Lodge, overlooking Denali, the tallest mountain in North America, standing at ever 20,000 feet. After lunch we traversed Turnagain Arm in Anchorage where we witnessed the mile long low tide, revealing muddy flats for hours until the moon decided to release the ocean to return home. Beyond Anchorage we entered the Kenai Penninsula displaying all its rough and rugged beauty. These are the scenes that you picture when you think of Alaska-hanging glaciers, meadows of wild flowers, glacier fed lakes, streams, and swans floating on ponds dotted with blooming lily pads.

Along the drive south to Homer Spit and the lands end, snow capped mountains and smoking volcanoes kept us company across Cook Inlet. Sign after sign spotted during the three hour drive south was either about fishing charters or fish processing. Once we reached Homer, the halibut capital of the world, and spotted anglers reeling in fish after fish, meeting their limit in minutes, we understood the signs. Homer was a delight. A quant fishing village frequented by locals an tourists like ourselves. We strolled the shops and dined on fresh halibut overlooking Kachemak Bay.

We thought we’d try our luck at fishing one sunny afternoon, but our private guided trip down the Kasilof river for King Salmon ended as a peaceful float for six hours. Neither us nor the neighboring bald eagles caught a thing. Did someone bring a banana with them? The guide told us in two weeks the river will be so full of salmon they will be jumping in the boats.

Making our way to the east side of Kenai Peninsula, the road led out to Seward, a fjord surrounded by tall mountains and glaciers. One of the carving tidewater glaciers in the Kenai Peninsula National Park and Preserve was a highlight of our sea cruise, in addition to Orca killer whales, Stellar sea lions, puffins, and sea otters. The European-style restaurant, The Cookery, met our expectations as an evening topper while visiting this town with a Norwegian feel to it. Before returning to the Anchorage area, we also toured the Sea-life Center and hiked the interior portion of the Park and Preserve.

At the three week mark, we decided to bid Alaska adieu. While we might have been too early in some aspects of our trip, the weather was perfect, and I think we left just as the state bird (mosquitoes) was beginning to swarm. With our bellies full of fresh seafood, like the seasonal whales, we began our migration south to the sunny coast of California and later the warm tropical breezes of Hawaii.

All Roads Lead to Alaska

The Inside Passage – Skagway, Juneau, Haines

Our first port after crossing the boarder from Yukon, Canada was Skagway, Alaska! As soon as we descended the steep White Pass Summit, all snow fell away. It was as though we crossed into Spring. The sea level town was sunny and in the 60’s. The small gold rush boomtown looks the same as it did when we cruised here 20 years ago with family. In Skagway we hiked, toured the town, walked the suspension bridge in White Pass summit, and indulged in quality local seafare by the Cordon Bleu trained chef at Olivia’s Restaurant, a welcomed palate cleanser from the Canadian brew pub and hunting lodge food on the Alaska Highway.

The weeklong drive from Montana thru Canada and into Alaska was just that – long. Other than the multitude of wild animal life, including brown and black bears, bison, caribou, and mountain goats that we spotted along the green belt of the highway, the one gem was the Liard Hot Springs. The unmolested springs was like nature’s hot tub set in the middle of a forest with moose grazing in the cool shallows. We’ve been to natural hot springs before, but they’re more commercialized and chlorinated. These springs were not only refreshing to the body but also reenergizing.

Unlike the Alcan (Alaska/Canadian Highway), the ferry from Skagway to Juneau and later from Juneau to Haines along the inside passage was tranquil and relaxing. The calm waters and ocean vistas flanked by snow capped mountains with trickling waterfalls weaving through the Sitka Spruce was only interrupted by occasional humpback whales, breaching to feed, porpoises, sea otters, and sea lions. The ferry route allowed us access to our next port, Juneau. Blocked by a giant ice sheet, Juneau is only accessible via water or air.

The star of Juneau is the Mendenhall Glacier. Our daily nature walk, golf game, or trail hike centered around views of the receding glacier in the Tongass National Forest. Similar to the Olympic National Park in Washington, Tongass NF is a rain forest drenched with 180 days of rain each year. We happened to visit during a dry, sunny spell with clear vistas from one end of the channel to the other. The forgiving weather made outdoor excursions to the Glacier Gardens and Salmon Hatchery pleasant. Crab was the ingredient of choice for our Juneau meals. After a crab feast at the popular Tracy’s Crab Shack where we gorged ourselves on King and Dungeness crab, all other meals contained crab in bisque, cake, or lump form.

In Haines, AK we stayed for one night backed against the Pacific Ocean with humpback whales frolicking in our backyard. The next morning we cruised the scenic byway to the Canadian border, cutting through the National Eagle Preserve with a concentration of the world’s largest eagle population; not one eagle was spotted. We saw more eagles flying over head while teeing off during our last golf game in Juneau. A local said they return to fish in fall. Once back to the AlCan and heading north toward Fairbanks, we experienced the worst frost heaves to date on this slow, grueling highway. If it wasn’t for the fact that we were so close to the Alaska interior, we would have considered turning around and driving back to the lower 48. So with Jack London’s Call of The Wild playing on Audible, we push on, just like Buck did in the book, driving further north into the Alaska unknown.

All Roads Lead to Alaska…

The Road of Gas and Grain

Anaconda, Montana, located about 15 miles west of the I 15 was our next stop on day four of our trip to Alaska. The unusually cold temperatures and icy road conditions slowed our pace to almost a crawl. The locals said spring has been delayed by two weeks. The weather and road conditions with snow in the forecast became a deciding factor in rerouting our trip through scenic Idaho and the Canadian Rockies to the lower plains east of the Rockies and sticking to the major highways in lower elevations.

The Old Works Golf Course, a Harvest Host location, allowed us to park overnight for free with a round of golf. The Jack Nicklaus designed course meandered along a small stream overlooking the old copper mine and largest free-standing chimney stack in the world. The course’s landscape was decorated with unique geology of the area and artifacts from the original mine, dating back to the town’s copper boom days. After a (45-degrees) chilly 9 holes, dodging the “rock chucks” (marmots), we had dinner at a local’s recommended O’Bellas for Italian American fare, including made to order breadsticks and homemade cannolis.

Sticking to the I 15 northbound, we took a break in Great Falls to walk the paved trail along the Missouri River. The swarming May Flies quickly changed our plans from a walk along the river to a visit to the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center where we learned of the explorers’ difficulties portaging the falls during their expedition down the Missouri River while seeking a continuous route to the Pacific Ocean.

With views of cutthroat jumping after the May Flies and anglers wadding the icy waters, we left the Center in our review mirror as we continued on to Desert Claim, a grain farm and our Harvest Host stoping spot in Conrad, Montana. I relaxed overlooking the blonde fields while Dan toured the 4500 acres with owner, Ken. There, this city slicker was schooled on how to plant and harvest a wheat farm and what equipment to use when. Gas was $5.49 and the lower plains temperatures were 64 degrees.

Pronghorn Antelope lined the back farm road as we drove back to the I 15 and continued north toward the Canadian boarder. After a quick stop into the office to share our passport and COVID vaccine information, we drove on to High River Brewery, where we sampled a flight of their IPA specialties and played trivia with the locals. After buying a few goodies from the brew house, our Harvest Host dry camping spot for the evening, we sat for authentic and tasty Indian food in town which was recommended by the owner. Gas in Canada is $8.00 per gallon.

The next two days were spent in the big cities of Calgary and Edmonton. We took advantage of the resources of a large town and had a routine oil change and system check on the van. While in the shop, we got about 10,000 steps in walking the largest mall in North America, The West Edmonton Mall. The last night in Edmonton was game seven of the Stanley Cup finals and support was shown everywhere with Oilers’ flags and jerseys proudly flown. Given two thumbs up by the the Mercedes technician, we continued north in Highway 43, Canada’s version of the I 15, mesmerized by grain field after grain field, our sights only interrupted by an occasional oil well or pipeline.

The final leg of this journey ended at Dawson Creek, Mile 0, the start of the Alaska Highway. Scenic roads and byways tend to traverse through resort communities, national or state parks, and destination towns, with excursions and offerings for a true glamping experience. Whereas Interstates offer speed and dry road conditions. One of the “Mile Zero City” signs says, “Where the Adventure Begins.” I’m looking forward to that.

Blue Ridge Mountains, Shenandoah River; Country Roads Take Me Home…

We lost the brilliant fall foliage back in Pennsilvania, replaced with a wall of green, thick and wild forest. The Skyline Drive in the Shenandoah National Park and the Blue Ridge Parkway in its own national park wind along the backbone of the rippled, densely forested Blue Ridge Mountains of the Appalacians. Unlike many other national parks we’ve visited that are on a loop system, these roads have access and exit points along each major town. This allowed us the peaceful sanity of a country drive southwest while dipping off the mountain to the tourist sights below, as well as take full advantage of the hiking trails, activities, and campgrounds within the parks.

On our first day along the Skyline Drive we did just that, exited the national park to visit Monticello, the retirement home and plantation of Thomas Jefferson in Charottesvile, Virginia. With 95% of the home’s original materials and structure, this well-preserved home is a living history museum of his architecture and engineering genious. If we hadn’t already taken a stenuous hike earlier in the day, we would have opted to park at the base of the property and follow the walking trail to the home. Since it was the lunch hour, we decided to partake in the Southern-style home cooking at Michie’s Tavern, also a preserved historical building, located on the same grounds. After our hearty meal, which was so nutrient-dense it held us until the next morning, we took in the sights and tours at Monticello. We opted for the slave tour-an unbiased accounting of the life and hardships of some of the hundreds of people owned by this author of the Declaration of Independence, who wrote that all men are created equal. Our visit to Monticello happened to land on the Fall Harvest Festival day, which allowed for music and other festivities in addition to the house, garden, and special tours.

The Blue Ridge Parkway has more visitor activites and sights within the park. With a couple stops along the long drive focusing on the musical affinity of the Appilacian people, we opted after our morning hike to stop at Mabry Mill for an afternoon picnic and Blue Grass concert accompanied by flatfooters dancing clog style to the toe-tapping country music. The multi-generational band jammed on various string instruments, from the mandoline to the fiddle, and sang with the iconic twang of this music.

Our highlight through the Blue Ridge Mountains was the visit down to the Biltmore estate, grounds, and winery in Ashville, North Carolina. We toured the grand home of George and Edith Vanderbelt, styled after European Chataues George toured for inspiration and design ideas. In the Biltmore, our American version of Dowton Abbey, it’s easy to imagine scenes of daily life played out in various rooms like we all watch weekly on our favourite PBS show. After a special Roof-top tour and walk of the gardens, we drove on property to Antler Village and the winery and farm area with the sunflowers bowing their heads to the evening sun.

The addition of more evergreen coniferous trees in the Great Smokies National Park adds a new layer to the 50 shades of green we’ve been soaked in for the past few days. Back on tour with our Gypsy Guide for the area, we traverse the park, taking in all the recommended overlooks and hikes, even a short stint on the Appilacian Trail. The AT is one of the longest continuous footpaths in the world, spanning 2,150 miles and through 14 states. Marked with a white paint brush on trees, hikers average seven months to complete this rigorous trek. Dan and I are content with long day hikes, but we have two friends who are currently on their own pilgrimage and/or walkabout. One is in Spain walking the Camino de Santiago, and another, whom we are going to meet up with in Nashville, is in his fourth month walking across America for Gods and Cops.

The crowds are low in the Park this week because the colors haven’t changed, yet, but the water levels in all rivers and streams are low, too. This offers only thin ribbons of water instead of rushing falls at the end of most of our hikes, except, for our last hike during our stay to Abrams Falls. At the two mile mark we shared the path for a short time with a black bear, rooting for ripe persimmons. We gave him/her pleanty of space and only passed once she/he disappeared back into the woods. Our perseverance on this trail paid off with a peaceful lunch spot under a cascading fall and plunge pool, rimmed with large boulders. Our last loop tour through the GSNP was to Cades Cove. A lovely valley circled by the Great Smokies and rich in Appilacian folk history.

Great Smokies National Park; Abrams Falls trail

The New England Coast

The Hampton’s traffic tends to be heavy during peak times, even in the off-season, so we decided to leave Long Island early before the Sunday traffic returns to New York. Connecticut is our first stop along the New England coast. My paternal Aunt Madeline and Uncle Lou, who I haven’t seen in over 50 years, live in Danbury. In the winding hills and heavily tree-lined neighborhood, my Aunt stood on her door step and pulled me into a tight embrace, as if to squeeze out of me all that she has missed from my life in the last half century. Surrounded by antique furniture my great-grandmother brought over from the “old” country and dozens of framed photos of my paternal relatives, we sat and talked for hours, catching up, only to break for a traditional Lebanese lunch, and then an evening visit to meet my cousin Brian, where we sat and talked and laughed for a few more hours. Too soon, the day came to a close and it was time for Dan and me to leave with so many unanswered questions and family stories still needed to be heard. Dan and I feel so fortunate to have experienced such open hospitality during this trip from distant relatives, offering slices of family history with a side of new memories. Thank you, my Connecticut family, for the warm welcome.

Top: Cousin Brian, Aunt Madeline, Uncle Lou; wedding day photo of my paternal grandparents, aunt, and bio dad; Aunt Madeline and me

We awoke the next morning by the alpacas on Bishop’s Orchard and Farm in Guilford, Connecticut. I spoke with one of the farm hands, who was collecting fresh eggs, and he gave me a half dozen to take with us on the road, but they had to be shelved because fresh seafood in Newport, Rhode Island was on the menu for the day. The summer “cottages” of the wealthy during the Gilded Age of the late 1800s on Bellevue Avenue put Downton Abbey to shame. Many of these mansions are open for visits, but Dan and I opted for our own walking tour along the Cliff Walk-a 3.5-mile path with the rocky Atlantic Ocean on one side and views through the iron fences of the grand grounds and homes on the other. An app is available to listen to commentary of each home site. Still the summer playground of the uber rich and famous, Newport provides ample opportunity for the extravagant outdoor sport hobbies of the wealthy.

Clockwise right: Harvest Host Farm; Mystic, CT (made famous by the 80’s movie of the same name); The Wall Walk in Newport, Rhode Island, Start of one week of all seafood; summer “cottage” in Newport

We continued on highway 1 and 1A, which we picked up along the seaport in Mystic, Connecticut and followed along the coast into Cape Cod with its gray-weathered shingle beach cottages and hydrangea filled gardens. After a day of tooling around the Cape, we ferried over to Martha’s Vineyard and spent a few days lazing around the Island. Dan and I slipped into island time with ease, spending our days exploring the end of the road in each direction of the island. On one rainy day, we left our campground in Vineyard Haven for Menemsha Beach-a small tucked away fishing village and beach area. The Menemsha Fish Market has a hot or cold lobster roll special with your choice of clam chowder or lobster bisque and parking at the end of the road, overlooking the Vineyard Sound. Along the calmer waters of Vineyard Haven Harbor, kite surfers take flight when jumping white caps, and the gentle tinkling of sea shells call for a closer look of their iridescent colors with each wash of the current. Our last day on the Vineyard was spent golfing at a seaside course.

Our trip to Maine wouldn’t be complete without a day lobstering, so on our first day in Portland, we did just that. On the Lucky Catch lobster boat, we cruised the harbor, learning all about the lobstering industry, checked the lobster traps for legal-sized catch and threw the rest back. At the end of the 90-minute tour of seal rock, a civil-war fort, and lighthouse, Dan and I picked two of the catch and walked them over to the adjacent dock restaurant who cooked them and served them with sides for a nominal fee.

Clockwise: Dave & Candice (our ship and dinner mates); working the lobster boat in Portland, Maine; BYOL and they cook it!

Taking highway 1 the next day along the Atlantic coast, we passed one quaint fishing port after another with small B&Bs, cobblestone streets, unique shops, tap rooms and lobster shacks which are as ubiquitous as Starbucks in Los Angeles. Acadia National Park on Desert Island near Bar Harbor is our last stop in the North Atlantic. On our first day we traversed the 27-mile scenic loop, stopping to walk the Ocean Path at Sand Beach. Rimmed with black flecked pink granite, the rugged coast walk afforded us views through the pines of small bird-clad islands as if drifting away from the mainland and lobster buoys dotting the bay. We ended the circle on the first day with dinner in Bar Harbor. An early wakeup call was on the agenda for the second morning to drive to the top of Cadillac Mountain, the tallest peak on the North Atlantic above Belize. We wanted to be one of the first people in the USA to see the sun rise. After finishing the driving tour around Acadia NP, we turned West to begin our journey home.

Acadia National Park, Desert Island, Maine

A Bite of the Big Apple

The Tuesday after Labor Day, Dan and I packed up the Van, said our farewells to Matthew, and trekked Northward. The traffic was heavy around the Baltimore area. To avoid the morning rush, we decided to make a wider sweep toward the densely populated Amish community of Lancaster, Pennsylvania. The detour rewarded us with glimpses of a-day-in-the-life of those who lead a traditional Amish or Mennonite lifestyle. Like most scenic byways we’ve driven across the States, the area is filled with alternating corn and soybean farms and red barns. The differences, here, are in the details. The homes are manicured to perfection, gardens tended by young women wearing traditional long dress and bonnets, clotheslines are filled with black suits and billowing white sheets, double-team horses pull the farm equipment while the beard-clad men hand harvest the corn at speeds comparable to its diesel-powdered competitors. All transportation on roads is either by horse and buggy, foot, or scooters, and not the Lyft or Uber brand electric scooters found littering most city streets now days. We lunched at Kitchen Kettle Village and stocked up on locally-made specialties, then continued on to New York City.

Surprisingly, we found a RV park along the waterfront in Jersey City, with an easy walk to the Path light rail and Liberty Harbor Ferry to Downtown New York City. The Overpriced parking lot was our fourth RV park in eight weeks. Within 20 minutes of checking in, we hopped on the ferry and were at the 9/11 Memorial. The remainder of the day was spent touring the clean and sophisticated Downtown area. A mix of modern and carefully preserved period buildings, the eclectic architecture of Manhattan creates a cohesive look unique to such cities as London, Paris, and NYC. The sun closed on our whirl-wind day and was replaced with a milky-way of building lights while we dined at a seafood restaurant along the Hudson River.

*Top Left: Liberty Island Ferry Dock, Jersey City; 9/11 Memorial, Empire State Bldg., Time Square, Colgate Clock and Jersey City Skyline*

On day two, Dan and I took a larger bite of the Big Apple and continued our hop-on-hop off tour of Manhattan, including Uptown, Harlem, and the Bronx. At timed intervals, pedestrians flooded from the subway exits, streaming down the sidewalks, bike paths, and streets, while cars inched along, blaring their horns at the masses blocking their path. Sirens wailed, jack hammers thrummed, and trains clacked along the metal tracks; these are a few examples of audio sensory overload we experienced throughout the day. Looking for a respite from the flashing lights, crowds, and city din, a walk around Central Park was needed. A few steps in and all fell away, replaced with green and the sound of children’s laughter. After a short stroll and lunch at Tavern on the Green, we were reenergized and hit the streets once again. We rounded out our second day, with a harbor cruise around Lady Liberty and traversing the streets of Little Italy and China Town, sampling the local delicacies.

Our last day was spent in Brooklyn and Queens, specifically Astoria. After spending the morning touring around Brooklyn, Dan and I took the subway to the end of the line in Astoria to meet his cousin Linda and her husband Chuck, who selflessly drove down from Vermont just to meet us and tour us around the old hometown of her and Dan’s grandparents. For it was approximately 120 years ago that Dan’s great-grandfather came to Astoria from Salle, Italy for the promise of a better life. Retracing the steps his grandfather took to church, local shops, Astoria Park, and his childhood home was like a walking family history tour. We ended the lovely afternoon with a delicious Italian dinner at a local eatery. Thank you, Linda and Chuck, for your time and family knowledge. We recognize and appreciate your efforts.

Top Right: Brooklyn tour, Chuck, Linda, Dan, and me in Astoria, the first Italian Methodist Church started by Dan’s great grandparents, the City at night (9/11 Memorial lights)

Exhausted from hours of touring, a couple days of relaxation at the beach was much needed, so we did as most New Yorkers do and escaped to the Hamptons. An oceanfront campground in Mantauk provided the peace and quiet for our rejuvenation. Winds whipped at the waves, spouting sea mist high in the sky; grasses bent, clutching the sand dunes; and our van swayed, rocking us into a peaceful sleep. Fresh seafood and salt air did the trick. Tomorrow we follow along the New England coast to Acadia National Park.

Birdies and Bourbon

Peru, Indiana was our first night out of Michigan, and we played 9-holes at a rustic golf course and Harvest Host. I call it rustic because this course displayed more tall blonde grasses and natural flora than the last one we visited, which had artfully arranged groupings of plantings and flowers. Deep among the backroads, only country sounds kept us company for the two hours we played. For dinner we ventured into the downtown area and tried a 5-star rated restaurant, which I rarely see, by TripAdvisor (Voodoo Public House). The décor and atmosphere were artsy with a hint of Venice Beach funk, but the food reflected the chef’s true culinary talents by the sophisticated flavor profiles and knife skills in this elevated pub food. Dan and I shared a taco variety of such complex flavors, including roast duck and banh mi.

The next morning, we met for breakfast with a few old work friends of Dan’s, who have retired to the Noblesville area. After catching up over eggs and pancakes, we hit the road down to Kentucky, and by mid-day we were on a trolley touring Louisville-the perfect rainy-day activity. On the tour we learned of the diverse history and cultural influences woven into the fabric of Louisville creating a unique pattern for this small city.

From Louisville we followed the Blue Grass Parkway, tracing the Kentucky Bourbon Trail. The flat farmlands of the north have morphed into rolling blue grass hills the closer we move toward the Appalachian Mountains, and pines have been replaced with oaks. With the slow drawl and everything either smothered or fried, we know we are officially in the south. Our first night in Kentucky we stayed in Frankfort, ate along the Kentucky River at Bourbon on Main and listened to some live country music.

Clockwise: Breakfast with Ira, Dave, me, Dan, Cathy, Haley; trolley tour of Louisville, “if it ain’t fried, it ain’t food”; Kentucky River

Bourbon production 101 at Buffalo Trace Distillery was on the agenda for the next day where we learned the science of making, aging, and storing their caramel colored spirits; bourbon is only made in the USA. Small country towns are the anchor between the distilleries and black-fenced horse farms along the back roads of Northern Kentucky. We lunched in Bardstown at Mammy’s kitchen where Dan and I shared a Hot Brown-a rich open-faced melted sandwich created in Kentucky.

Our last night was spent in Lexington at a golf resort & spa, yet another Harvest Host dry camping spot. Because the resort was kind enough to let us park with views of the 4th green for the night, I won’t mention the name, but the course was a disappointment. This wasn’t a charming country course we’ve become accustomed to, but a large grass park and trees. Pristine greens and fairways were replaced with pocked ones, and any sounds of nature were drowned out by the semis whizzing down the freeway alongside the back nine. We did take full advantage of the clubhouse facilities before departing for the Ohio River Byway, making our way to West Virginia.

The Canadian Rockies

The Canadian Rockies, while similar in geography to Glacier National Park, is in a league all its own with untamed, pristine beauty frozen in time. The first part of our stay we explored Banff National Park, including the three iconic glacial fed lakes: Louise, Emerald, and Moraine. While we enjoyed the views from a six-mile hike to the tea house high above the milky sage colored Lake Louise for a cuppa and some scones, and later lounged on its banks, resting our weary muscles, it was Emerald Lake that stole our hearts. Maybe it was the rustic lodge with its plush leather chairs that beckoned us in for the view of the jewel-toned lake with our lunch or the serine environment, sans the masses and tedious shuttle busses that we experienced at the other two silty bodies of water. Emerald lodge serves Rocky Mountain Cuisine, which I would describe as similar to that of the lodge, elevated quality with rustic influence. After lunch we looped the lake, taking in the beauty from all angles.

Lake Louise; we hiked to the tiny speck in middle of forest

The Gypsy Guide App directed us to the equally as beautiful, yet less chaotic Yoho National Park for sites skipped by many other park dwellers. We spent the day following his suggestions, which always afforded exceptional sites and a unique experience. There was even one time we were driving back to our base camp and Gypsy Guide said to look up along the train tracks because it’s common to see bears feeding off of the spilled grain, and, I kid you not, a momma and her two cubs were galloping along the tracks right on cue. Now, how did he do that?

Day three was spent at a relaxed pace, touring Banff townsite, golfing at the Fairmont Banff Springs, and lunching along the Bow River – a nice reprieve from the first two busy days. The next day we decided to drive north, away from the crowds, toward Jasper and stopped at a brand-new campsite along the Icefields Parkway (Silverhorn). After cruising the sites, we picked a prime spot next to the babbling creek with views of towering mountains and hanging glaciers. A few miles before the campground, we pulled into a suggested photo op stop of Peyto lake. Here we could follow the glacial stream water right from its source, feeding the aqua blue lake. I don’t think Crayola makes a crayon this color.

It’s 4:30pm. As I sit here writing this blog entry let me describe to you my surroundings. Perched on our plush King wide bed, both back doors and side slider are fully opened, completely screened – of course, wafting the sweet mountain air in and through the van. Dances with Wolves CD is playing on the blu ray, but not too loud as to drown out the tumbling Silverhorn Creek running past our backyard or my Man working out back on the fire. The wall to wall windows in the Van allow for 300-degree views, binging the outdoors in while we enjoy the modern amenities we are accustomed to. Tonight, we’re having apple cider bison sausages on the open-wood grill, along with other fresh fruits and veggies we picked up at the store before our trek northbound. This is my kind of camping!

Today we beat the crowds to the Columbia Icefields – the halfway point to Jasper townsite. Camping this far north on the Parkway gave us a one-hour head start from others departing the Banff or Lake Louise area. As soon as we left the Banff National Park and entered into Jasper National Park the geography dramatically changed. No longer are the mountains lined with mature pine-forests, meadows filled with wildflowers, or sweeping displays of vegetation; the landscape is stark, draped only with glaciers and high-alpine fur. We’ve stepped back in time. Just standing on the edge of a glacier, we’re witnessing history. The glacier melt trickling down the face to meet the stream below could be from snow fall over one hundred or more years ago. To gain a better perspective we took a popular hike in the area called Wilcox for a birds’ eye view of Athabasca Glacier, the one we walked to earlier in the morning. There we met and chatted with Jenny F., her husband, and their friends visiting from Tennessee, who were nice enough to offer up a spot on the property of their mountain home in the Great Smokies for us to park after we told them of our travel plans to the area.

The quant railroad town of Jasper, about one hour north of the Icefields, has a little more casual, laid-back feel than Banff, but similar in appearance. The surrounding landscape, though, is quite different. The naked mountain tops are scarred from eons of glacial ware, and at first blush the thick pine forests appear to be changing in color, like one would expect to see with some trees during autumn, but we later learned that the yellow and brown evergreens are evidence of the tiny pine beetle devastating the mature forest.

Hike Around Maligne Lake, Bull Elk, Dan’s Mosquito Abatement Outfit

After two days of hiking with the mosquitos and sightseeing, we found ourselves back down south at our favorite spot by Silverhorn Creek. But on our last evening in Jasper we took a long twilight soak in the open-air Miette Hot Springs. While crowded with other heat seekers, the views of the surrounding mountains were spectacular. I can only guess how cool it would be to soak under the field of stars from the late-night sky. Tomorrow we leave the Canadian Rockies for the Columbia Valley Golf Trail for some golf and relaxation at the Copper Point Golf Resort, then it’s back to Whitefish, Montana where we turn East toward Mount Rushmore.