Category: United States

Here we are, Pete and I, having spent plenty of time in places where the scuba diving is said to be some of the best in the world, but we’ve done nothing about it. We’ve instead enjoyed peeking into the depths while just skirting along the top, and continuously offering any number of excuses as to why we haven’t gone further. I’m slightly claustrophobic. Pete is too easily distracted and will likely wander off. Both of those examples are true, but really shouldn’t stop us from trying.I am a water baby by astrological sign, a strong swimmer who was almost nearly a certified lifeguard, and have thoroughly savoured every experience on the water I’ve had from kayaking to snorkelling. Going under though? That’s a whole other world. One that we, as a species, have only explored five percent of. That fact alone is enough to instil a dramatic fear of the unknown, never mind the need to learn how to tinker with the instruments that will keep one alive while diving into spaces that humans aren’t built to survive in.

A solution exists though, for people like us who are curious yet fearful. And it was about time that we tried it out as a first step. While visiting Hawaii, we signed up for snuba in Lanai.

The concept of snuba is simple: we had access to an oxygen tank without the need to carry it nor learn how to use it. The tank floated in a small raft above our heads with a 20ft hose attached to our breathing regulator, giving us 20ft of freedom to roam in the water below. Our guide, Matthew, was in control of the tank and was there to show us the way.I had thought this would be a breeze. The panic, so early on, was something I never expected.

Matthew had warned us of it but I paid no mind, at least until I couldn’t get my breathing pattern right from the start, realizing that it is not as simple as an easy in and out. And then I found the hose slightly twisted around my body because I had turned to see where Pete was. I wriggled about, careful not to remove the regulator from my mouth. Matthew, thinking I was just confused about how to descend properly, came over to try and tilt me the right way. But by then I was wide-eyed and panicky and I just couldn’t bring myself to go any further. Instead, Matthew took off my weights and I hung onto the raft and swam along through the bubbles pushed up from Pete below.

With only 15-20 mins on the tank, I wasted more than half the time this way. Finally, after I had calmed my breathing and kicked along steadily, I became extremely jealous of watching Pete cruise along the reef as he’d never been able to before. I wanted so badly to be sharing these moments with him. Seeing him do it so effortlessly gave me new confidence; I signalled to Matthew that I wanted to try again and he was over in a flash.

I let my arms go limp above my head, exhaled, and sunk. I unplugged my ears and went a little further. I’m not sure how far I got, maybe I didn’t even make it past ten feet, but I was near enough to Pete’s side to feel good again. He gave me the OK sign, reached up to squeeze my hand, and smiled with his eyes.

You guys, I would be thoroughly destroyed if I didn’t have this man, the better half of my soul, with me at all times. I am honestly worried for myself and my reliance on him, and him on me, should something ever happen. His presence alone is enough to fuel my desire to try more and be better. And I didn’t want to let him down.

The last few minutes gave me the tiniest glimpse into the addiction that many have to this underworld. The water was warm, crystal clear, and this spot near Hulopoe Beach is said to be one of the best in Hawaii. I know nothing of fish but excitedly started pointing out the most colorful ones. Before I knew it we were heading to shore and into the murky water where the heavy waves were churning up the sand. We packed the heavy raft to our starting point and as we set it down, Matthew assured us that for first timers, we were rockstars.

I’m sure he tells that to all the panicky ladies, I thought. But I wasn’t bothered, I was happy enough to watch Pete enjoy it, for the few stellar minutes I had, and for having the courage to try something new.

how to do it

This wasn’t our first experience with Trilogy Excursions, having done a sunset tour with them during our last visit to Maui – both were very well run and enjoyable. They offer snorkelling and snuba tours right on the island of Lanai, or via day trip from Maui.

Heading to the eastern end of Molokai we passed a shirtless, well-tanned man sitting on a guradrail amidst tall emerald grass curling all around him. He was, as far as we could tell while driving at the speed limit, tuning his ukelele.

Could we have possibly seen anything more typically Hawaiian?

Actually, the answer was yes, on that small island that is often described as being “old” Hawaii. From the magical afternoon spent with cultural icons, to the explicit reminder on road signs that things are different there. There is no spa, no luau offered just for tourists.

Molokai is as off-beaten as it gets in this clump of islands in the middle of the Pacific.

Photos from Moloka’i

Photos from Lana’i

And then there were some subtle, but mostly drastic, changes when we made the quick hop to Lanai. Palm trees were replaced by Cook pines, the soil was a vibrant burnt red and cool breezes cut through the sun’s punishing rays.

It was as laid-back and casual as Molokai but a little more polished in order to cater to the tourists that usually crawl the island. With the two big resorts closed for renovations, it was much quieter than we expected.

Photos from Maui

And then onto Maui with even bigger changes. Modern in infrastructure and offerings and with a bigger population, tourism is much more present. Maui didn’t fail to surprise us though, even on the second time around, of the abundant laid-back Hawaiian spirit. And that second experience cemented our fond opinion for us. Even when seen at its most commercial, Hawaii stands out as the most adored state we’ve ever visited.

Although only tiny plane rides exist between the islands, it was startling, when seen back to back, how different they all really are. There truly is something for everyone.

Where to Stay

Where to Stay on Moloka’i

Castle at Moloka’i Shores – Staying here makes life easy. Nestled in Kaunakakai Castle at Moloka’i Shores offers family rooms each equipped with private bathrooms, a balcony with sea views, a fully equipped kitchen, and a dishwasher.

Where to Stay on Lana’i

Hotel Lanai – Located right in the heart of Lana’i City, Hotel Lanai offers air-conditioned rooms to all its guests, along with free WIFI, private bathrooms and is only ten minutes from the airport. It’s perfect for your stay on the island.

Where to Stay on Maui

Grand Wailea Resort Hotel & Spa (A Waldorf Astoria Resort) – For our last few days in Maui we were welcomed back into the magnificent Grand Wailea.

She packed her bags carefully this time, not in the usual haphazard stuffing of items into every corner. She wrapped cords in perfect coils and tried to remember every instruction that accompanied them. This is for the camera, this is for the tablet, this is for the GoPro. She’s used to having a doting husband who manages her messy electronics so that they don’t end in a tangled mess.

But this time, she was traveling solo.

She arrived in Rhode Island safely and with all items intact. She didn’t leave her phone on the plane (she’s done that before) or her tablet (yeah, that’s happened too). She checked and double checked to ensure everything was tucked away where it should be.

The lady left the plane and boarded a small cruise ship, her home for the next 16 days, and unpacked just as carefully. The space would naturally turn into a mess throughout the trip, but she kept most mindful of where the vitals were. She charged batteries nightly, backed up her photos not quite nightly, but more frequently than she ever would have.

She was nervous.

She was nervous for embarking on the longest solo trip she’d ever taken. For being lonely. For losing something. And most certainly, for not being able to keep up to a standard of photography set by her talented husband.

Yet she would soon discover that she had nothing to be nervous for. The remarkable itinerary for this trip would offer the opportunity for her to take some of the most beautiful photos she ever snapped.

Behind this solo lady photographer were two men to support her. One, the onboard photographer to help chase down good spots for sunset and encourage her newfound enthusiasm. The other, her patient husband who edited her photos for Instagram and this blog post.

Oh, and to answer desperate texts as speedily as possible.

I’m on the pier and want to get softer water, what setting do I use?

Balance your exposure, use a small aperture.

Did that, still not working.

Then lower your shutter speed.

Oh screw it, she said, packing up her gear. She could hear her husband’s laughter on the other end of a text, mocking her familiar impatience, which infuriated her even more. She stayed to try again, but with no notable result. In guileless defeat, she blamed the old wobbly tripod (who was only wobbly, she discovered later, because she had failed to tighten an integral dial. But her husband would not know that).

On the last day in Chicago she was stopped by a man just a few meters away from the ship, curious about where it had come from. This was not an unusual question – the crew often fielded such queries any time the ship was docked.

She explained the route, from Rhode Island to New York, up the Hudson River and into the Erie Canal. From the Erie Canal to the Oswego Canal, north to Lake Ontario. Lake Erie, Lake Huron, Lake Michigan.

It was then that she felt an odd sense of accomplishment. Which was ludicrous, really. She did nothing but sit on a ship for 16 days; she expended no effort in getting everyone from start to end. In fact, she was instead pampered by the gracious crew. But it was the kind of journey that no matter how you did id, it felt like a feat. An accomplishment that comes from completing a not-so-normal route that so very few do in modern times.

Oh, and she didn’t lose any equipment or break anything and only cried once for missing her husband. She also didn’t tank the Instagram account as she kinda expected to.

She will be happy to relinquish the duty of photographer, to not have to worry about backing up and sorting and ISO and changing batteries nightly and always carrying a cleaning cloth. She’ll switch her camera back to AV mode and live out her days not worrying so much about her own photos, knowing that her husband has got that covered.

The lady may not have tanked this blog’s Instagram account, but a photographer, she is not.

And she is quite okay with that.

how to do it

Blount Small Ship Adventures tagline is to “go where the big ships cannot”, and that is the exact truth. The ship used for this excursion, the Grande Caribe, was built exactly so that it could traverse the Erie Canal. The pilot house detracts so that the shortest bridge is cleared by just 6 inches. They are the only company who provides this itinerary, and with the small intimate setting (only 82 passengers maximum!), it’s like traveling on a friend’s yacht. The Captain was cautious and considerate, the crew were all fantastically attentive and friendly. And the itinerary simply cannot be beat.

C’mon world.

You don’t make it easy on full-time wanderers who are eager to taste your wares yet simultaneously trying to control their waistlines. You smothered us with pasta in Italy, tempted us with chocolate baklava in Turkey, and talked us into four dumplings for a dollar in New York.

Impassioned travelers everywhere will shout that in order to understand the culture, you must taste and understand the food. We can’t not agree.

And when we announced we were coming to Wisconsin, a chorus erupted from readers and friends alike that we *must* try deep fried cheese curds – that it was *thee* local staple that needed to be consumed in order to get a real taste of Wisconsin.

It’s cheese by-product (curds). Smothered in batter. Deep fried in oil.

Despite the internal protest, as genuine pursuers of world cuisine, try we must.

We pulled on our stretchy pants, and got to the fryin’.

We’re no strangers to cheese curds, used to them being tossed on crispy french fries and smothered with beefy gravy. They’re known as “squeaky cheese”, and are a bit rubbery in texture.

The batter was like any used for such battered things: onion rings, etc. Getting the curds completely covered and then into the hot oil was a bit of a messy undertaking, but I don’t suppose that the appearance of this dish is what is important.

The finished product was about as I expected.

They were tasty, no doubt, albeit the cheese was a little more bitter than I thought it would be, and we could have really used some marinara sauce for dipping. While anything involving the words “cheese” and “fried” I could typically never imagine turning down, it had been a long time since I had eaten anything like this. After sampling a couple, I felt quite sick.

(I turned my attention instead to the carefully prepared side dish, a healthy quinoa salad. Can’t imagine that these two items exist together on any menu throughout Wisconsin, but it did provide the balance I needed after the greasy cheesiness.)

We’re not sure how much more of this we can take. If anyone knows of a country that lists celery or fruit salad as their celebrated local cuisine, please let us know. That one will be swiftly bumped to the top of our *must* see/taste list.

At first glance, it appeared that we were only trading one refuge in the wilderness for another. We left our house-sit, drove an hour to Canoe Bay, and found ourselves in another cozy log cabin, surrounded by more unspoiled views of a lake, deep in another secluded piece of forest.

It would undoubtedly be a divine sanctuary for city-trudging warriors. An escape from gridlock onto carefully carved natural trails, a shocking slap of silence compared to the churning of common urban noise.

We thought, given our thorough contentment with our current (and similar) living arrangement, that we may not be easily seduced by the resort, despite it’s rating as one of the top romantic hotels in the world. However, once we settled in, and gave ourselves over to the indulgent service, the spectacular cuisine, and yes, the romance, our two nights at Canoe Bay became a captivating affair to remember.

Our room with a gorgeous view. Just behind the photo was a luxurious king size bed, to the right, a self-adjusting fireplace, and to the left, a whirlpool tub built for two.

Spoiled much? To start off our day, a healthy and hot breakfast was delivered right to our door.

By candlelight we enjoyed dinner in an intimate lounge, and savoured every single bite placed before us – as if not finishing it in it’s entirety would be to smite the kitchen, for all the obvious care they put into each and every dish.

The first night: organic greens with pears and fresh goat cheese; beef tenderloin with caramelized pearl onions and carrot puree; raspberry tart for dessert.

The second dessert stole the show though, brownies slash fudge slash all the chocolate-y goodness we could handle.

The second night: orange, arugula, radish and honey with cracked pepper; butternut squash soup with sunflower seeds, chives and sunflower oil; pan-seared Alaskan halibut with purple fingerling potatoes, mushrooms, and an orange rosemary sauce; blackberry tartlets for dessert.

This was exactly our kind of place. It was at once pure luxury and sinful decadence, but also in the most casual of settings. Before the splendor to be devoured at the dinner table each night, we spent the days exploring all inches of the property.

So many locals have commented to us that we are in Wisconsin at the exact wrong time of year – too late for the brilliant colors of fall, too early for the pristine white blanket of winter. There is something to be said for wandering in the brilliance of browns though, hearing that satisfying crunch of leaves underfoot while cool air faintly swirled around us.

Maybe we had TOO much fun.

And, you know if there is a lake, we have to get on it.

Scattered throughout the property are views built for two.

We ducked into the library to snuggle up with hot chocolate and a good book.

The early morning fog on our last day epitomized our mood at having to leave.

We fell for it. Every nuance designed to emphasize romance hit it’s cue with us, almost completely.

I say ‘almost’ because there was one slight barricade to total happiness, one grievance that caused a blemish in our perfect rendezvous.

As snap-happy as we usually are to record all such distinguished moments in our travels, on this trip we were limited. Being that this excursion was gifted to us by Samsung Mobile, we left our DSLR behind and relied solely on our new Galaxy SIII, which we love, but…

We had only one camera.

There are two of us.

What is it about the Green Bay Packers?

How is it that they are one of the most popular sports teams in the world?

Sure, it helps that they have won the most NFL championships (13) than any other team, but there is definitely something else. The fans certainly have a lot to do with it. They have unparalleled amounts of pride and passion for “their” team.

Look at the waiting list for Packers season tickets. If you apply today for season tickets there will be 100,000+ fans in front of you. Your great-grandchildren may have a shot at getting them and you had better hope they are Pack fans. There have been people on the waiting list since the early nineties and they still have 10,000+ people waiting eagerly in front of them. A spot on the Packers waiting list is so valuable that they are willed in family estates and highly contested in divorces.

If you get a chance to see a Packers game on TV, look into the stands at the fans. 95% of attendees are wearing some sort of Packers garb. There are countless painted faces, symbolic cheeseheads and posters explaining why ‘they are the #1 fan’.

But what I think is most important is the strong leadership behind this team. Vince Lombardi, one the most successful and popular coaches in history once said: “The dictionary is the only place that success comes before work. Hard work is the price we must pay for success. I think you can accomplish anything if you’re willing to pay the price.” The players routinely leave everything they have on the field.

This quote has resonated with me for a long time, and I believe it is the reason I had the chance to see the historic frozen tundra of Lambeau Field with my own two eyes as our own hard work and passion had been instrumental in getting us there. I have no clue if in my old life I would have ever had the chance to see the Packers play, but this mantra led me down this path to do so now.

When I was a kid I regularly watched the Packers on TV. I don’t know what drew me to follow them. My family understandably never watched NFL, being from a diehard CFL nation. I’ve remotely cheered the Packers to win two Superbowls (1996 and 2010). I’ve seen countless Lambeau leaps, the crazy body painted fans braving the sub zero temperatures and the great Packer players throughout the years. But to see them in person was a little childhood dream come true.

Even though the game was a total blow-out and in a very chilly stadium, the fans were unrelenting. They cheered and bounced until the final seconds ticked off the clock, and the boisterous atmosphere was everything I expected it to be.

While the sun was still shining and temperatures moderate during our trip to Menomonie, we were eager to explore some of the outdoor attractions in the area.

A quick look at pictures online for the nearby “Devil’s Punchbowl” assured us it was worth a visit, and then we found this article, which intrigued us even more.

Unusual phenomenon have been reported but are unexplained – water that stays colder than normal and clearer than normal (despite the proven presence of bacteria). There have also been fairy sightings! Ghosts! And even trolls.

Vengeful trolls with a sweet tooth, to be precise. For the website also states that the mystical creatures enjoy the candy Skittles, and that visitors who fail to bring such a gift have reported problems with their cars upon leaving.

We decided not to take any chances.

We entered the Punchbowl via very shallow steps, perfect for little troll legs, we supposed.

We searched for footprints to no avail, possible tracks on surrounding trails were covered by thick layers of fallen leaves and twigs.

The Punchbowl itself is quite an interesting formation. It has the appearance of a crater that has been sunken for centuries, with layered striations of sandstone, and green moss covering sections of the inner wall. The area is quite botanically rich, and despite the road that runs just overhead, is peaceful.

Our vehicle started when we returned. Our simple offering must have pleased the trolls.

We’re the un-planners, the un-assumers, the un-expecters.

And when you visit many tourist-y spots, as we do, those titles can be hard to maintain. We’re up on travel news and many travel blogs such that there are few places in the world that seem unchartered, few stories remain untold.

But with Wisconsin, avoiding knowledge on the state was easy. It is not heavily touted as a must-see tourist destination, and in fact, many were perplexed at our decision to visit for an extended period of time. Truth be told, we were attracted to only one aspect of it: the cozy log cabin in the woods with which to relax, decompress, and get some work done (it could have been in any state or province or country, for all we really cared). After being all-Europe’d-out and then spending a couple of months bouncing between family and friends beds, that was all we cared about. A tranquil, comfortable, snuggly space.

Our house-sit in the woods absolutely delivered. And along the way, when we could stand to get out of our jammies and drag ourselves into town, we learned a thing or two or seven about Wisconsin…

It’s Wild

As in, wildlife roaming in the wilderness, and wild colours worn by the hunters who chase them! We have never before in our lives been exposed to such a strong hunting culture. Signs for a countless number of hunting lodges speckle the side of highways in an otherwise sparsely populated region. Our routine drives to Hayward always included at least one animal sighting. Hunter’s orange is all the fashion rage, and Pete was once scolded for walking outdoors without it (apparently, if you are shot while outside and you’re not wearing the appropriate brightly coloured clothing, the shooter is not at fault).

Friendly

These Midwesterners are an affable bunch. Our neighbours fed us, new friends ensured that we got a good taste of what Wisconsin has to offer, and a random hairdresser even doled out hugs after a half-hour session of bonding over clipping. We felt completely welcome and well taken care of during our time there.

Quiet

Aside from the frequent gun-shots during hunting season (see “Wild” above), we reveled in the startling quiet of our wooded retreat. It was the kind of silence that rings in your ears and takes some serious getting used to. But, because it was accompanied with matching tranquil scenery, we made do. 🙂

Confused

It was quite interesting to be in the US for last November’s election. Despite the computer generated phone calls five times daily from the likes of Bill Clinton and Clint Eastwood urging us to vote, we were happy to entertain questions from people we met about the health care system in Canada and our thoughts on American politics. It was even more interesting to see that the first ever gay senator was elected from Wisconsin last November. And then, on the other side, there is a Republican governor who somehow managed to survive a recall after a heavy corruption scandal. Wisconsin is a political puzzle.

Wet

There are over 15,000 documented lakes in Wisconsin, not to mention the shores of Lake Superior in the north, and the route of the Mississippi through the state. Fancy an endless number of places to swim, fish or kayak? Then you can find it in Wisco.

Cultured

Wisconsin is home to several famous artists – Spencer Tracy, Orson Welles, Georgie O’Keefe, to name a few – but that is not what I’m talking about here. I’m referring to the bacterial variety – that which makes all of the delicious cheese the state is so notorious for. We are sure that we ate our weight in dairy products, and then some!

And Wacky!

There is just so much weirdness. We discovered the giant fiberglass fish and the combination of pubs/wildlife museums, but there is still so much more. Like weird laws: at one time, margarine was illegal, and it is prohibited to serve apple pie in a restaurant without cheese. There is a whole section in the Huffington Post about weird Wisconsin news, and it includes such article headings as: “Paranomal Experts Say Ghost Probably Didn’t Punch Woman” and, “The Only Clown vs. Cop Brawl Video You’ll Ever Need”.

Oh Wisconsin, we will miss you.

I have long eschewed the idea of a cruise. I always deemed it a lazy and impersonal way to travel with many blank days at sea and little to differentiate locale or direction. Simply coasting from port to port, hardly straying from the dock, never actually interacting with anyone in the places being visited. This may be a stereotypical view and likely not representative of the whole, but with so many other wonderful ways to view the world, I just have never really cared to seek out the truth. But give me a smaller ship, an interesting itinerary, and a more personal experience, and that, I would consider. A Great Lakes cruise that included the interior waterways of the US instantly intrigued me.

A Great Lakes Cruise Through the Canadian and US Interior Waterways

Our Great Lakes cruise started down the coast from Rhode Island, up the Hudson River to Albany, then through the Erie and Oswego Canal to Lake Ontario, and then finally across four of the five Great Lakes to Chicago. That’s a lot of water to cover – 1,600 miles over 16 days – with 38 locks to pass as we gained and lost altitude along the way. We spent several lazy days solely on the water, which for this introverted Pisces meant many blissful hours of introspective time staring at waves and watching the scenery change along the shore. My favourite times to move were at night, though – the gently rocking ship lulled me into a deeper sleep than I ever expected.

I stared, wrote, read, worked, ate (a lot; the food was so good), and was forced to play photographer without Pete at my side. The other passengers on the trip, who were less than half of the capacity for the off-season cruise, skew older and, of course, were almost all couples. But while there were moments in which I admitted loneliness (textbook romantic loneliness, though – whilst staring out at rippling waters), I also found kinship and comfort in the others. And that was because this route does not attract the typical cruise types.

By the nature of the itinerary, it attracts adventurers.

Myself and several of the other cruise passengers I spoke to were first surprised that such a trip was even possible. But really, how foolish, of course it is. The Erie Canal, which we’ve all heard of at some time or another in our lives and where we would spend several days of our trip, was built to make the journey possible. That canal shaped the character of this portion of the country, bringing prosperity along the route and expanding settlement all the way through the Great Lakes to Chicago and beyond. This man-made ditch allowed for goods to ship inland at 95% reduced cost and a week quicker. The areas it touched exploded in wealth and progress.

That wealth can still be seen along the canal in surprising ways. I never anticipated much from our first scheduled stop along the canal in Troy, New York, ignorant as I was of the historical relics this city holds. In the St Paul’s Episcopal Church, I encountered my first moment of true awe upon seeing “the motherhood of Tiffany windows”. It is only one of four churches in the world to have so many, and as such, is one of the most expensive churches to maintain, which is a struggle for the small congregation, given the decline since.

Troy, New York

Troy, like many other industrial cities we would visit on this path, is not the city it once was. The Erie Canal, which brought the area to the height of prosperity, lost it’s commercial activity to railroads and the St Laurence Seaway. It now primarily handles tourist traffic, and usually in the form of small personal boats. As such, maintenance of the canal is debated; its viability is always in question.

The ship we were on, built with the limits of this route in mind, is the only commercial provider of this journey (it clears the lowest bridge on the canal by only 6 inches). Our stops along the way numbered 13; many surprised (Troy!), and others provided deep lessons that I will carry with me. Some were used mostly as a way to stretch my legs and run errands, but many on this Great Lakes cruise were truly memorable.

A Foggy New York, New York Skyline

From a mid-afternoon departure from Warren, Rhode Island, we watched the sun dip over the Race Rocks Lighthouse, built in the late 19th century after eight vessels crashed against its treacherous island by the same name. I slept uneasily that first night, but Captain Dave got us through safely and upon New York just as the day broke.

And under the fog and mist of the harbour, we strutted right up to Lady Liberty herself and hovered for several minutes. This was a remarkable and unforgettable start to the trip, as even the sight of her gets this Canadian choked up.

Women’s Rights in Rochester, New York

I have to say that I wasn’t terribly disappointed when I learned that the group tour wasn’t going to be as scheduled (to the International Museum of Photography and Film via Kodak), but instead a stop at the Susan B. Anthony house. Sorry Kodak, but this lady wants to know more about this remarkable woman who fought so hard for the woman’s right to vote in America.

This lady was not disappointed. Being Canadian I knew more about our own suffragettes than I did Ms Anthony, and the tour through her Rochester home and office was simply inspiring.

I left this city wanting to know more. And maybe that is one of the points of a cruise that I was missing before – it gives just a taste so that I’ll know where to return to.

Sunset Chasing in Oswego, New York

I wouldn’t say Oswego tops my list of places to return to after this trip, with little to woo me besides a place to stretch. When our Great Lakes cruise continued here, I walked through the main part of the city but succumbed to humid heat, and rested at a boardwalk cafe to quench my thirst. That refreshing moment was pure bliss, but what made this stop worth recording was not that, nor the city itself, but instead the remarkable sunset I chased down later.

Getting Wet in Niagra Falls, New York

I always considered myself a bad Canadian for not visiting this, one of our most iconic treasures. A brief dip back into Canada was made in order to have views of both sides of the falls, and sorry to my homeland, but I must confess that the American side is prettier. And it’s also where we boarded our boat to take us up and close to the falls. It was then that I really got to know what it is like to shower with a few hundred total strangers. If that’s not adventure, I don’t know what is.

Rocking Out in Cleveland, Ohio

Call me weird, but I’ve long had a desire to visit Cleveland. It was this stop on our Great Lakes cruise that I was looking forward to the most. Partly because as a kid one of the only VHS tapes in our house was Major League, and then while watching the (albeit fictional) adoration of the city during a few episodes of 30 Rock, my fascination was sealed. Oh, and if you didn’t know that I was a music junkie, I am. And so the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has been calling to me for many years (one of MANY cool things to do in Cleveland).

We had a rainy arrival, but no matter, I heralded an Uber and headed straight for the Hall of Fame. I choked up several times, tapped my foot to melodies several more, and was there to near-closing. I then met a friend for tacos, wandered around the downtown, and got back to the ship just in time for a stunning sunset.

The city itself was stunning to me, not in the traditional sense of beauty, but in its plain intrigue. Its industry and population has been declining for several decades, but the remnants of its powerful past are everywhere with lofty bridges and buildings. I found it a fun challenge to photograph, and departed with another city on my to return list.

Cleveland! I always knew you’d be good to me.

Step Back in Time on Mackinac Island

We stepped off of our Great Lakes cruise ship and back in time over a hundred years. This tiny island is less than 4 square miles and sits in between the Upper and Lower Peninsula of Michigan. It is almost entirely encompassed by a state park, built for tourism, and does not allow motorized vehicles. Everyone gets around by horse or their own two feet. People come for a multitude of cultural events, the quaint charm, and an alarming number of fudge shops.

I enjoyed it for the beautiful vistas, of which I explored plenty in our overnight stay. (And the fudge, of course.)

Final Stop in the Windy City – Chicago, Illinois

The Windy City was our last stop on our Great Lakes cruise, and it was glorious. Not at all because I was eager for the cruise to be over, but because I went on a date with the city.

I broke away from the group and enjoyed the day for what it was – my last as a solo traveller (for a while, at least). And I stuffed my day with as many touristy things as the time (and heat!) would allow. I went up the Willis Tower, devoured a deep-dish pizza, and even took the famed architectural tour that included what is now known as “Early Chicago Skyscrapers” (a UNESCO tentative site that makes up one of many UNESCO World Heritage sites near route 66).

Early in that tour, just as we began, the guide dove into the history of the Chicago with a brief overview of what we’d see along the way. And most importantly, she mentioned how the Erie Canal had turned the city into a big shipping port and shaped its entire future.

It was then that my trip was brought full circle for me. How this extended passage I travelled on, done simply for my pleasure, had once played an integral part in shaping a large swath of the continent. I felt, after tracing the path and visiting diverse stops along the way, that I understood this history more than I ever could have otherwise.

It was an absolutely perfect end to the trip.

I’m still not sure I would call myself a cruise person, in the more traditional sense anyway. But I am a ship person, a boat person, an admirer of history, an adventurer, and a person who is truly appreciative of this off-beat expedition.

How to Do It

It is an ambitious itinerary, but one that gave me new perspective on the history and character of this part of North America, and even a little about myself. I took the journey with Blount Small Ship Adventures, but due to the pandemic, they are no longer in operation. However, there are cruise companies that do these routes.

I was given just enough time to get panicky about paragliding, but not enough time to refuse.

We reviewed our itinerary just a few days before we left for Maui, and while I didn’t quite say “no” to the concept of running off a mountain when it was first suggested months prior, I was hesitant. Those that have been reading this blog from the very beginning may remember our frightful excursion in Argentina.

That time where we watched as one man chickened out last minute, and then saw a solo jumper actually fall from the sky.

Also, at that point in our travels, my Spanish wasn’t good enough to inquire about the things that made me so nervous about the flight – like that damn beeping from the contraption that measured wind speed and other things. Throughout the flight, I thought that the rapid increase in tone meant we were in trouble, when it actually just indicated when we were in strong thermals (a good thing).

I was the last one off the mountain that time, and the first to land. (I’m sure my tandem guide could sense my nervousness.) And as we landed, I said emphatically: Never. Again.

But then came the certain passage of time and its miraculous ability to dull feelings and fade memories.

I couldn’t look down on the way up.

My eyes fixed forward for the long drive up the slopes of Haleakala with a dramatic series of sharp switchbacks. The talk in the van was focused on what had happened just a day prior, where a solo jumper had somehow got tangled in tall trees on the slope just after take-off. He dangled for an hour until being rescued by helicopter.

“Driving a wing is like driving a car,” our guide Dexter said incredulously, “it’s very easy to avoid the trees.” Without knowing the details to the story, it seemed hard for him to believe.

Dexter had such a calm and smooth way of talking that I believed every word out of his mouth (which is a vital quality to have when escorting people off a mountain). Soon only some nylon and string would keep gravity from hurtling my vulnerable self into the ground – so I hung on his every soothing word.

My courage continued to rise as the van rolled to a stop. Unlike that time in Argentina where the jumping-off point gave way to a cliff-face, this slope was gentle, the view before us lush and inviting. We weren’t surrounded by scores of other nervous first-timers, and we got to watch a man jump solo for the very first time. I was encouraged by the gentle coaching of Dexter and the ecstatic hoots and hollers as the graduated new-jumper soared through the air and controlled his own movements through the sky. I couldn’t imagine a greater freedom.

Well, hell. I wanted that. My nervousness had turned to sheer excitement.

But Pete would go first.

And on my lift-off seconds later, it felt so effortless and, quite literally, uplifting. So relaxed I was in this irrational act of running off a slope that I required Dexter’s urging (yet calm) insistence to get going. “Run faster, please!”

The air whooshed.

After a quick detour to spot the wing still caught in the tree from the accident the day before, we went back to just enjoying the freedom of flight and the view before us. It was hazy, a bit, with the clouds far enough away not to be troubling but to slightly dull the kaleidoscope of blues and greens before us. I looked down to watch Pete’s progress, and saw him spin at a sharp angle, turning and turning while descending.

“I DO NOT want to do that,” I insisted to Dexter, as he explained they were enjoying a spiral dive.

“We don’t have to,” he said, “I really just want you to have a good time.”

It had been less than ten minutes the ground, far quicker than the preparation and drive to the top. But I was ready to do it all over again right there – Dexter had done the impossible for me and made the experience no frightful than an elevator ride.

(He might even be able to talk me into a spiral dive next time….)

how to do it

We highly recommend both Dexter and Paul (Pete’s tandem guide) from Proflyght Paragliding for an excellent flight tailored to your level of chickeness. 🙂