Where in the World......?

....has Sew What? been? I've been very far away!
At the Blow Hole rock formation on Espanola Island, Galapagos, Ecuador April 5-15, 2010.


I've crossed the equator at least 6 times since I last reported. Yes, I've been in South America, Ecuador to be exact, and from Quito, Ecuador, my brother and I went to the Galapagos Islands.

This was a trip that was many months in the planning. We first decided to go on the trip in April, 2009, paid our money to secure the room on the cruise ship in May, and have been slowly getting ready for our big adventure.

Since this was a first big international trip for both of us (not counting a trip to British Columbia about 11 years ago, and crossing the border to go to Tijuana once), we were both a little apprehensive. My misgivings were these: Would we get along in a Spanish speaking country without much usuable Spanish? Would the airplane actually get us to our destination without too much trouble? What about customs? What about passports? What about money? And would I be able to actually tour the islands because I'm old and somewhat out of shape?

So starting with the first question: Spanish--in Ecuador, there are many English speaking people. Since most of our interactions with local folks invovled the exchange of money, and they use American dollars in Ecuador, we somehow spoke the common language of American Dollars, so all retail transactions were rather easily accomplished. Lots of smiles, pointing, cuando???, holding up fingers to indicate how many dollars, and showing $20 bills got me what I wanted! Quito is a shopper's paradise, on one street, there was the entire street full of fabric vendors, cashmere, alpaca, bolts stacked to the ceilings, $3-$5 per yard! And I wasn't able to shop because we were on a tour with a time deadline! I swear I'm going back some day with two empty suitcases, and going to reap a bonanza of treasures to take home. I did OK as it was with the shawls, shirts, blouses, purses, leather goods, and carvings we found at an open-air market. I did so well, I had to buy a big bag--duffel bag size--to carry my treasures home. That extra 2" expansion on the new suitcase wasn't going to cut it! Anyway, the new suitcase left room for more treasures, once we got to the Galapagos. And I have nice cool souvenir from Ecuador.

Second question--about the airplane (I really hate flying): There was a potential disaster on the horizon when in Miami, they declared our airplane as unable to fly to Medellin, Colombia, as the reverse thrusters didn't work, and we would fly off the end of the runway if we tried landing in that plane. Glad they found out about that before we took off. But lucky for us, another plane was just sitting around ready to take its place, and we were only delayed by an hour, which they made up by fast flying. When we got to Medallin, we had to pick up our suitcases, go through customs, pick up our boarding pass, go through customs again and get on our airplane. Now, when we had gotten off the first plane, the second plane was parked right next to it, but it was a long journey of running up and down stairs to get on the next flight. Some very friendly Colombians at the airport kindly helped us, carried our suitcases up the steps for us, and helped us to negotiate all of this. So that part of the worry turned out OK.

Customs was not fun, but not terrible either. The longest wait and most frustrating customs experience was in Atlanta when we got back to the U.S. at 5 a.m and 300 people were waiting to go through customs. Then we had to get our suitcases, take them 50 feet to another place to check them in, and finally we were on our way home for the last leg of the journey. Oh, and to leave Ecuador, you have to pay $28.27, exact change desired--an airport tax, just to make sure you went home with very little cash left! Crazy!

Passports were not a problem, we have lots of stamps now. Money, no problem, except that I left quite a bit of it in Ecuador!

The physical aspects of the trip were challenging. We walked at least 2-3 hours every day, some days on some very rugged terrain. But it was definitely worth it, because we saw some of the most amazing sights you can imagine. I will post some of the most spectacular of my pictures in subsequent posts. The trade off was that we got to swim/snorkel at least once a day, and one day we got two opportunities to snorkel. We saw so much wildlife, it is hard to explain how much there was to see. The word UBIQUITOUS is the best adjective I can give for the amount of iguanas, crabs, birds, fish, penquins, sea lions, turtles. There is so much to see in Galapagos. It truly was a trip of a lifetime, and I'm glad I got to go on this adventure while I was still physically able to do it.

And, I'd go back in a minute!

Fat Man's Misery

It may be politically incorrect to refer to someone as a "Fat Man". Minnesota Fats got away with it, and so did Fats Domino, but I don't recall many current celebrities going with that moniker!

But in Mammoth Cave, KY, political correctness gives way to hard reality. Here is where a person of ABOVE average girth will be literaly between a rock and a hard place as he/she goes through the cave on a tour. I couldn't believe that we were going through such a narrow passage! One foot in front of the other on this path! No handicapped accessible options here! You were an adventurer, or relegated to being just a bystander!

Mammoth Cave is truly worth the time it takes to visit. They have explored and mapped over 300 miles of passageways underlying about 10 square miles of Kentucky hills. It claims to be the biggest cave system in the US, if not the world. Quite a sight to see!

This place has been on TC's life list of things to see. Now since last year's movie "The Bucket List", I guess we should call it a bucket list (things to see and do before you kick the bucket.) I'm glad I got to go along to see something I didn't have on my bucket list, but am glad I got to experience it anyway.

On your way to Mammoth Cave, you may pay homage to the Corvette assembly plant in Bowling Green, KY. As a family member or two of ours owned Corvettes (well, actually it is one Corvette that was passed on from uncle to nephew), we payed our respects to the birthplace of the beast. Just go to the Corvette plant, turn east and in 15 minutes, you'll be at Mammoth Cave National Park!

Flying Free

Aside from some family and friends' consultations yesterday (one medical, one decorating and one sewing/alteration consultation), life has been ho-hum lately. I often wished for ho-hum when things were really hopping, but ho-hum makes blogging a challenge. So I'll bore you with vacation pictures!

One thing that TC and I experienced when we were on our trip east was the emergence of a whole huge crop of Spicebush Swallowtail butterflies. I think it was the late summer hatch that happened all in the same week, because everywhere we went in North Carolina/Virginia/West Virginia, we saw thousands and thousands of them. On this ridge on the Blue Ridge Parkway between the Smoky Mountain National Park and Asheville, NC., I'll bet there were a million butterflies. On each stalk of plant, there were at least 5-10 butterflies feeding, and you can imagine how many stalks would be growing on thousands of square miles of the Blue Ridge Mountains! It was an awesome sight.

You can easily see the reason why this area is named Blue Ridge, because ridge after blue-hued ridge shows itself like waves as you look out across the hundreds of miles of land which you can see from the high vantage points. This stretch of highway is about 90 miles long, and we couldn't guess which vantage point was the best to stop at, they were all so beautiful. The highest elevation in this area is about 6600' above sea level. Quite impressive when you realize the sea is about 400 miles away.

I was so curious about the butterflies that I bought a butterfly guide book at one of our visitor center stops. The guidebook called these blue, black, and orange beauties spicebush swallowtails. However, another breed of swallowtail which is better known, the tiger swallowtail, was another species we saw. It was odd, there was a yellow and black butterfly making quite sweet overtures to a black and blue and orange one. We thought we were witnessing some inter-species hanky panky, but the guide book told me the tiger swallowtail male is yellow and black and the black/blue/orange is the female. So they were just doing what the birds and bees and butterflies do, making little butterflies, and we were the nosy neighbors peeking through the blinds.

The Company Town

Remember the old song "16 Tons", sung by Tennesee Ernie Ford? "You load 16 tons and what do you get, another day older and deeper in debt." The story of the company town has always fascinated me, ever since I first heard that song many decades ago.

I've had two experiences in the past few months that have given me pause to think about this old song. The reference in the song is to the company store, which was owned by the company that owned the mine where the songster was working. The company built the housing, the mercantile establishments, and deducted the expenses for rent and purchases from the coal miner's paycheck. This type of economic model was a reality in many businesses that flourished as our country developed. As the song suggests, you get another day older, and deeper in debt, because the company basically owned you and you were never free from their influences. As miners became family men, their offspring were often caught in this net of reality of living in an isolated, controlled community. Their girls married coal miners and their boys became miners themselves. To leave the community and go elsewhere was rare, indeed. We all know the perils of mining, and many of these miners died at a young age, or as they got older, became sickened by the dust and fumes from the mine that made them die horrible deaths.

My first recent encounter to bring this to my awareness came as I read the book "Rocket Boys" by Homer H.Hickam, Jr. this past May. This delightful story is of a man (who is very close to my age) who lived in the mining town of Coalwood, WV. His father was a miner, and his family lived in the company housing. Homer had great ideas for his life that did not include becoming a miner. He wanted to be a rocket scientist, and his buddies and he developed a rocket experiement from begged, borrowed or "somewhat stolen" materials to build their rockets. I won't spoil the ending of the story to tell you the conclusion, but you will enjoy this story immensely, especially if you are now near retirement age, as Homer Hickam is.

The Hickam family was truly owned by the mining company. They were in fear for their own existence as the mine became more and more dangerous, and the rich seams of coal were mined out. Henry's father had risen to the level of supervisor, which meant he didn't mine anymore, but had the responsibility of men's lives on his shoulders, as well as making sure that the mine continued to be profitable. When the mining company sold out, the company housing was converted to rental property, leaving many of the citizens in big trouble to pay the rent. This happens as the natural resources of these towns dwindle, and the people are left to their own devices to survive.

The picture I had in my mind from Homer's description fit another town I actually saw while I was in WV last month. TC loves railroads, and one of his destinations that he really wanted to experience on our trip east was to go to Cass, WV to ride the Cass Scenic Railroad. Well, the town of Cass was centered around another of WV's natural resources, logging. But the town was set up just as Coalwood was, with the company housing surrounding the company store, which was just down the road from the pulp mill. The scenic railroad line led up to the hills where the logging was happening. The rail cars brought down the logs to be made into lumber and pulp for paper. Of course, as the natural resource that led to this town becoming a thriving enterprise played out, the town lost citizens, and gradually moved toward extinction.

The state of West Virginia realized that they still had a resource that could be capitalized upon in this town of Cass. So they bought out the housing, the railroad and the remains of the busines to be preserved for folks who wanted to take part in a piece of railroad history, a coal-fired railroad, with some very unique equipment. They turned this into a state park, turned the housing into cottages for families to live in while they spent time in the area. They turned the company store into a nice huge souvenier stand, and restored the railroad for tourists' enjoyment.

I must admit, after driving through the mountain passes for hours to get to Cass, I couldn't imagine that there would be more than 2 people waiting for the train ride that day. Who would drive all that way to ride a train in West Virginia? Was I ever wrong! When we got there just prior to the noon train's departure, there was a huge parking lot full of cars, some who were already riding the train on the 4 hour trip, and others who just got off, and our group that was waiting for our turn to ride.

The technology of the steam engines on this line really shows that "necessity is the mother of invention". The rails have to negotiate big curves, high hills and carry heavy loads. So the engine is designed with articulating and directly powered drive wheels (called "trucks"--skateboarders, take note of that term, it wasn't invented by Tony Hawk). The engines are called "Shay", and Cass Scenic Railroad has quite a few beautifully restored and well taken-care-of engines. (See their website, Cass Scenic Railroad for more information.)

I've ridden quite a few scenic railroads with TC. Our father was a railroad man, and TC has loved trains since he was just a little guy. We've ridden the Durango, Silverton in Colorado, the Skagway in Alaska, and just last summer, the Hood River line in Oregon. Riding on a coal-fired line is so exciting because you get that soot in your eyes and hair as the train labors along the tracks! And these scenic railroads take you to see some very spectacular sights! And I just love to hear the trail whistles as the train gets ready to cross the back roads! On this route, the rail line has 2 switchbacks, the brakeman was 10 feet away from us as he did his work to switch the track. That really brings the technology of railroading right into your awareness. It's high tech now on modern railroads, but the old fashioned way works just fine on scenic lines such as the Cass.

These experiences, reading literature which is brought to reality by an actual visit to the site, have been so interesting to me, and very enjoyable also. My trip to the east coast, seeing Jamestown, experiencing Cass, and driving through other towns I have read about keeps my interest in history, geography and the love of literature alive. I'll share more when I get another chance to bore you!

The Road West

Here is where it all began. The year was 1607. A boatload of brave Englishmen landed on this exact spot to colonize a small part of Virginia. They had traveled for months on the stormy Atlantic to come for riches of gold and other treasures to send back to King James of England. They fittingly named their little settlement Jamestown, and the wide water that flowed next to it was named the James River.

They were gentlemen who wore fine clothing. There were few among them who were experienced enough with survival skills to thrive in the wilds of southern Virginia. They envisioned being welcomed by the natives with open arms and as conquering heros. They found out quickly that they were to be the conquered. They were conquered by disease, hunger, weakness in the face of a native people who wanted them to leave. Finding food was a big issue, defending themselves against those who wanted them gone was an issue, and staying alive was the biggest issue of all.

They came in late spring 1607 and by August many had died. Their beautiful site that seemed so perfect when they chose it became a mosquito ridden swamp in the hot doldrums of summer, and death came almost half of them that summer. The water of the river turned brackish from the sea a mere 30 miles downstream, so lack of fresh water added to the problems. Many were so sick, they welcomed death as an end to their suffereing.

I wanted to see this place for myself. In the Spring of 2008, my students in my advanced writing class studied the book, "Love and Hate In Jamestown" by David A. Price. Whenever I study about a place like this, I have a deep yearning to see the actual site for myself. Historic Jamestown is the place where archeologists are digging to find evidence of the exact location where the first settlement in the US began. They have found many artifacts, and found the location of the original walls of the fort, which had thought to be lost under the river because of erosion. They reconstructed one of the original pallisade walls to show what it looked like 400 years ago.

Seeing Jamestown for myself was a great thrill. The history that I read about and studied with my students came alive for me that day. It was a long journey for us to get our one hour of living history (we arrived in the late afternoon with only about an hour left before the place closed). For someone not famiiar with the story of Jamestown, this place was less than exciting. But for me, it brought a deeper understanding a very important time in the history of our country.

Then, as we traveled back to the midwest, we drove through the land which was the historic road west that the American settlers took---through the marshy lands of Virginia, to the piedmont, the high land that bridged the area between the sea and the eastern mountains. Then we tackled the highlands of the Appalachain chain of mountains, stretching their rolling hills as far as the eye could see to the north and to the south. How could settlers cross those hills in flimsy wagons, when our powerful truck labored to mount each hill? Their determination and quest for their own patch of land must have been so very strong. The impact of it all came flooding into my awareness as we travelled the miles westward.

We saw the big rivers of the eastern US, the Ohio, the Mississippi, the Missouri. Each of these rivers hold their own stories of the settlement of our country. The road west, whether it be on land or on water, contributed to our Irish and German ancestors seeking their place in the world, here in the midwest where we have set our roots. This trip was a living history experience for me, and very enjoyable.

Dual Controls

I've always wanted to own a vehicle with dual temperature controls. None that I've ever owned have had that feature. Dual controls work so well in concept, you can personally select your own desired temperature level, and your traveling companion can select what suits him or her.

Traveling Companion (hereby referred to as TC) and I definitely have a different idea of a comfort level of temperature while traveling. 2500 miles under our belts and rubbing our backsides has proven that! I hope he was comfortable, because I sure wasn't! It was like the frozen Arctic tundra in the cab of his truck for most of the time! A blast of frosty air chilled us quickly, even on the hot days, I had to check to mirror to see if icicles had begun to form on my nose! Also, checked for blocks of ice at the end of my legs. My only defense was to grab a sweater or jacket, and hope for the best.

Now, in traveling down life's road, I've encountered more than one situation that dual controls would have worked well. The late Mr. liked it warm. Much too warm for my taste, as I went through about 15 years of "personal summertime" coming in flashes throughout that period. During that time, he needed more and more sun, and sunshiny days to make him happy. He always wore a long sleeve shirt or jacket, and had shivering down to a fine art! I think he was happiest when we traveled to Death Valley and it was 120 degrees! He revelled in it, and I about expired under a hot rock! So dual controls in our vehicles would have been a really great asset for us!

Now, I've passed on to a different season in my life, more toward the "perpetually autumn" or God-forbid, the "winter of discontent". I definitely choose somewhat warmer temps in which to feel comfortable. So this icy blast coming from the vents in TC's truck was not to my liking. TC had control of the trip, it was his vehicle, his itinerary, his plan, and he controlled the dials on the AC. One time when I dared to turn it down/up/make it warmer, he quickly corrected my attempts to warm things up by turning down the dials to "icy tundra". (Is there a picture of a polar bear on that end of the dial? There should be!) When on a rare occasion when I was given the keys, and his eyes closed for 5 minutes giving up control, I sneaked my hand over and turned it up, TWICE! Then I was able to survive the 11 hour drive as we returned home.

I'll talk about control in a later blog, but as for now, I recommend the all auto makers put dual controls in every vehicle. It would do a lot to calm down "road rage", them that like it hot can be happy, and those who need to be very cool will have their day. And in life's road, we all like to be able to have control of the dials.

Back in the saddle again!

I'm 900 miles from home. Even in this summer of high gas prices, I decided to take a roadtrip that will be 7 days long and put about 2000 miles on the odometer. This translates to putting that many miles on my backside! Ouch! One stop on my trip was to Nashville, where I toured the "Country Music Hall of Fame". Traveling Companion bought a copy of Gene Autry's Greatest Hits. Song NumberOne is "Back in The Saddle Again". Now each morning as we take off, that is our theme song. Tomorrow is the beginning of the circle back home--more numb bulbs!