Category: Travel

Posted in Life, memories, Travel

A blizzard, a phone call, and Florida

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/trees-and-cars-covered-by-snow-512229/

Subfreezing temperatures. Flurries in the forecast. Pretty normal February day in Iowa. White piles along the road reminded me of last week’s snow. The gray sky, leafless trees, and bite in the air testified that spring was still far away.

The car heater had barely warmed up when I pulled into the parking lot. After a quick walk inside, I piled my coat, scarf, hat, and gloves on a side chair and turned on my computer. My car, just a few feet away on the other side of my office window, didn’t seem to mind the cold at all.

Not long before lunchtime, the wind blew the first flakes of snow past my window. As I watched, more and more snow fell, and the winter world’s grays and browns succumbed to a coating of white. The wind picked up as the sky suddenly dumped all of it’s snow at once. I couldn’t even see my car as today’s “flurries” matured into a full on blizzard.

My desk phone rang. It was probably my wife, making sure I was okay. I wasn’t planning on driving anywhere anytime soon. But it wasn’t her. It was someone calling me from Florida. They just wanted to ask if I was open to considering a job change and relocating.

To Florida? The Sunshine State? I said, “Sure,” but in my mind I was thinking, “How about I come down today?” Lol. The interview was in April, and we moved there in June.

That was twenty-eight years ago. And you know, I just don’t miss the gray skies, leafless trees, bite in the air, and driving home in a blizzard.

Posted in Life, Travel

The darkest darkness

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by David Gabrić on Unsplash

For our autumn getaway, see some color, enjoy some cooler weather trip we found a remote cabin on a hillside in western North Carolina. To get there, we had to drive to the end of a twisty mile-long gravel road, where there was no one else in sight.

Each night I made sure we were back from hiking or small town exploring by dark. The access road was difficult enough in daylight. No way I was going to tackle it at night.

But each evening before bed, I did have to take the dog for one last walk. On one occasion I switched off my flashlight just to see how dark it was. It was dark. It was the darkest darkness I’ve ever experienced. Cloudy skies hid the moon and stars. No far off light from a nearby town reached this area, because there was no nearby town. I couldn’t see the road I was standing on. I couldn’t see the trees around us. I couldn’t see the cabin. It was around the bend. I couldn’t see the white dog at the end of a leash. I couldn’t see anything.

I remember thinking, “If my flashlight quits, I’m not sure how I’ll find my way back.” On subsequent walks, I made sure I had my phone in my pocket for a backup flashlight. Maybe my eyes would have adjusted. Maybe I’d be able to see a little bit. Maybe not.

I remember asking a group of middle school students, “What is the darkest hour of the night?” It was one of the few times they said, “That’s a good question.” It is a good question. Poetic wisdom says it’s always darkest before the dawn. And how do you measure darkness, anyway?

Anyway, the darkness was impressive. Not eerie, not scary, just complete. Where else is it really dark? A cave. A closet. Inside a refrigerator with the door closed. When the power goes out at night. When you shut your eyes at night?

Posted in Travel

One piece of the trail

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We finally hiked our first section of the Appalachian Trail. Only 2,188.25 miles to go.

Our November cabin in Franklin, North Carolina was a few mile from the Winding Stair – Siler Bald section of the trail. We didn’t do the whole 4.7 mile trail. With a Westie leading most of the way, we only went a mile and three quarters. A 3-1/2 mile hike made for a great fall afternoon.

The trailhead is on a highway that connects Asheville and Murphy. One you cross the highway, the trail leads through dense rhododendrons, across a trickle of water, to the start of a long uphill hike.

It’s not an especially steep grade, just steady. Most of the leaves had fallen, so I could see hundreds of yards in every direction through the trees. The only color left was the deep reds of oak trees. The leaf-covered trail is well-marked by white rectangles on successive trees.

We took our first break at Moore campground, and then went another 3/4 mile where we decided to head back downhill. From there we could see Siler Bald, another 500 feet up, where the view would be amazing. Of course we shared our water, oranges, and bars with the dog.

We only passed one other hiker the whole day. A solo hike was coming down the hill as we worked our way up. With two hiking poles, he looked like he knew what he was doing.

It’s actually harder going down. It’s tougher on the knees, and I had to pay closer attention to my steps. You can’t see all the stones and roots on the trail when it’s covered by leaves. I’m happy to report that we didn’t have anyone stumbles that day.

Without a dog in tow, we might have done the whole section. I don’t know if we’ll do the whole thing, but I’m looking forward to hiking more parts of the AT.

Posted in Travel

My favorite cabin so far

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I stumbled across this cabin by filtering my Franklin, NC Airbnb search to less than $100. We’ve stayed in other “cabins” in western North Carolina, but this one is an actual cabin out in the middle of nowhere (actually in the Nantahala forest). The cabin is so remote you can’t use GPS to find it.

After a day-long drive, we got to the road to the cabin before dark. It’s a good thing we did. The mile-long driveway was steep and twisty, cut into the hillside, covered with leaves and bordered by a steep drop off. It would have been ten times harder to navigate in the dark. The first time up the hill we kept wondering, “Is this the road?” “Is this a road?” Thankfully the cabin came into view.

Previous fall destination cabins were houses in communities surrounded by woods and farms. This cabin is made from logs chinked with cement. The front porch roof is supported and fenced with tree trunks. The sleeping loft appears to be a homemade addition accessed by very steep stairs.

Of course, like most short term rental cabins, the rustic structure is furnished with many conveniences. There is a gas furnace for cooler weather, an electric range, a refrigerator, a microwave, an outdoor gas grill, a dishwasher, and a satellite dish for TV and internet. A portable AC unit and fans keep things cooler in the summertime. So you’re not really roughing it, but you feel like you are.

The front porch is lined with rocking chairs. Facing west, it’s a great place to watch the sunset over the mountains. Or you go up the hill out back to a fire pit area and look out over the valley.

The inside is furnished with a mix of antiques, mementoes, pottery, pictures, and contemporary furniture. I’ve founds games, books, toys, and puzzles in every nook and cranny. As I mentioned yesterday, there is an upright piano, painted white, in the main room. And a fold out sofa bed. I loved finding a cast iron pan to cook with along with two old-fashioned hand turn egg beaters in the kitchen drawers. The upstairs bed is smaller and squeakier than home, but so far we’ve slept great.

I’ve run across two memorial rocks engraved with birth and death dates. I’m thinking husband and father. Before they started renting it out, I’ll bet they burned wood in the fireplace. They still have lots of split logs piled up under the porch, long since retired by the current gas logs. I’ll have to message my host to find out more about the history.

I’m surprised to see so little wildlife. All I’ve seen is a few squirrels and birds. No bears. Maybe they’re already hibernating. No deer, either. They’re good at hiding.

I’ll bet not too many guests come in snowy weather, since you’d need a 4×4 to get up here.

It’s quiet, peaceful, comfortable, simple, and relaxing. We’re only minutes from friends, great hiking, quaint downtowns, coffee shops, breweries, and antique shops. Perfect for us.

Yes, this is the road

Posted in Travel

I’m sorry, you’re at the wrong hotel

Posted on by William Douthwaite

On our last return trip from Dallas, we stopped for the night in Pensacola, FL after a full day of driving. I had a reservation at the Fairfield Inn and Suites just off I-10.

The sun was setting as I pulled into the parking lot and walked through the front door to check in. I was immediately greeted by a bubbly, cheerful woman at the front desk. I said, “I’ve got a reservation for the night” as I handed her my drivers license and credit card.

After she tapped on her computer keyboard a few times, she said, “Well, we don’t have you in our system, but I’ll bet your room is at the other Fairfield Inn and Suites just off I-10 in Pensacola.” She called to confirm our reservation, and I drove a few miles back to the correct location. There are two? Well, that’s confusing.

The reception at this hotel was much different. The building looked brand new and I could tell that crews were still working on the landscaping. I walked into a very nice lobby, only to find no one at the front desk. I waited for a few moments, and then started to look around. Past a display of snacks, through two doorways, I saw a woman on the phone, typing as she talked to someone. I waited a few minutes, hoping she would notice me, but she never looked up. I walked a little closer and said, “Hi!” a few times. Nothing.

Finally, the woman happened to look up, and was startled to see me. After she shuffled some papers around, she came out to check me in. She said, “Sorry, I’m deaf.” I felt bad as she explained, “I can only hear in one ear.” She was kind and checked me in, explaining that she was filling out an incident report, she was ADHD, and breakfast was from 6:30 to 9:30 in the morning.

It must be tough working the front desk all by yourself in the evening. And I’ll bet the person on duty is expected to handle a variety of tasks for not a whole lot of pay.

We had a good night and a good breakfast before we hit the road for home.

Posted in Travel

More pumpkins, with a splash (of color)

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Today’s adventure took the grandkids and us to the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Gardens. We’ve been there before. But this is pumpkin season, and that means thousands of pumpkins and gourds will join the gorgeous flower gardens throughout the park.

The day lived up to every expectation. After a long summer growing season, every flower bed was overflowing with color. Gorgeous purple chrysanthemums sat among beds of star pentas, canna lilies, golden shrimp plants, multi-hued crotons. Long lines of pumpkins and gourds ran along every walking path, leading us to the Pumpkin Village.

Pumpkin village was a community of houses made out of pumpkins amid piles and plies of pumpkins where kids could run, climb, and pose for endless pictures. At the center of it all was the Great Pumpkin. Most of the kids there had no clue what the Great Pumpkin is, but they certainly loved the giant-est of all the pumpkins.

The arboretum was full of field trip groups, senior center outings, strollers full of babies, and so many folks slowly wandering through the amazing paths, ponds, and gardens. Just like them, I would so spend a day here each week, watching seasons pass, the visitors to the gardens, and the vibrant palette of color.

Of course, with each step part of me wonders, “How come my flower beds don’t look like this?” I know, I don’t invest the same resources into my gardens. And I don’t have much of a staff to help me out. But a day here inspires me to plant, fertilize, and enjoy my own gardens a little it more.

Posted in Moments of grace, Travel

A great day at the pumpkin farm

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Today I took a trip to the Shadow Creek Pumpkin Farm in Midlothien, Texas. Every weekend in October (and a few Mondays and Fridays) they hold their annual pumpkin festival. It’s pricey but worth it. It’s the real deal.

The festival is a whole lot more than pumpkins. As soon as we arrived, the grandkids jumped on the seesaws, large wooden swings hanging from the trees, and a whole bunch of little bouncy pigs, horses, and cows. Everyone took a turn riding down a huge hillside slide. It was pretty chilly so we stopped at a huge fire pit to warm up.

The petting zoo was next. We held chicks and ducklings, petted the alpaca, watched the pigs gorging on pumpkins, fed calves with huge bottles of milk and goats with ice cream cones full of feed. We spent nearly an hour there.

From there we took a tractor ride through the fields, navigated a corn maze, and bounced on flat orange bounce pads. Once we burnt off some energy, it was time for lunch.

A row of food trucks offered barbecue, Mac and cheese, street tacos, nachos, hot dogs, kettle corn, cider, and pumpkin pie. The brisket was delicious on a roll, in a tortilla, or on mac and cheese.

We weren’t done yet. Each of the kids picked out a pumpkin to take home, perched on old tractors for pictures, and took a ride in little pumpkin cars pulled by another tractor. After one last ride on swings, we headed home.

It was a great morning and part of the afternoon. Since pumpkin farms make all their money in the fall, I’m not surprised that these festivals aren’t cheap. $17 admission, $8 cider, $12 kettle corn, $5 pickle, $12 brisket sandwich, $37 pumpkin pie! Only the Texas state fair costs more.

I had a great time and got great pictures. I’ll bet we’ll be back next year.

Posted in fun, Life, Travel

Extreme tubing at Highlands Outpost

Posted on by William Douthwaite

It’s just sliding down a hill. It’s basic, simple, and so entertaining. It’s one of the reasons we drove to Highlands Outpost on Scaly Mountain, west of Highlands, North Carolina. Along with gem mining (who doesn’t have gem mining in this area?), an alpine slide (crazy fast and fun), a BBQ restaurant (which was closed the day we were there), and trout fishing (a stocked swimming pool-sized pond), they advertised “extreme tubing.”

At a local playground, my grandchildren love sliding down the astroturf hill on a cardboard box. In the winter, we slid down my dad’s snow-covered backyard hill on saucer sleds until we were too cold and exhausted to climb up for another run. Extreme tubing? This is going to be great.

A simple hill and inflated tubes lived up to the hype. For twenty bucks you had access to the hill for an hour. At the bottom we grabbed heavy-duty five foot diameter tubes and dragged them to a conveyor belt. The conveyor belt then took us another three hundred feet up the hill. At the top of two slides, staff dipped our tubes in a soapy solution and shoved us down the slide after we hopped in.

The soapy solution and sprinklers along the way combined to make this a fast ride down the hill. The first time I went down alone, spinning the whole way. I got a little air over the three dips in the hill, before sliding to a stop at the bottom. Subsequent slides were in pairs, trios, and even four of us liked together, holding on the feet of the person behind you. The more weight, the faster the ride!

My four-year-old grandson, small enough to sit cross-legged in the tube, spun and giggled the whole way down. Inhaling as much air as I could, I screamed for an entire run in one breath. Everyone I saw was laughing by the time they reached the bottom of the hill. So basic. So simple. And so much fun!

Each round trip took about five minutes, so we each got a dozen rounds in before our time was up. With unlimited energy to burn, the grandsons would have gone all day if they could. The grown-ups enjoyed every slide, too. What a fun afternoon!

In the winter, the same tubes take you down snow-covered hills, which are probably even faster. I’ve got to come back for that.

Posted in Life, Travel

Some of my heroes: shuttle drivers

Posted on by William Douthwaite

During a typical trip to Dallas to visit my son, we encounter at least four shuttle drivers. This latest trip they made my travel a pleasant experience.

The first picked us up at long-term parking and takes us to the departure terminal. We waited less than a minute for him to pull up next to our car, load our larger luggage, and learn who we’ll be flying with. With a big smile, he welcomes us onto his little bus. Without losing his cool or breaking a sweat, he negotiates airport traffic, an amazing assortment of clueless, rude, and impatient drivers clogging up the drop-off spots. He unloads all our luggage onto the curb and wishes us well on our journey.

After we land in Dallas, we grab our luggage and head to the pickup area for the car rental shuttle. All the car rental companies share one building, so there is always a crowd watching for the arrival of the big blue shuttle bus. After the driver makes sure all our bags are in the racks, he begins our trip to the rental center. On my most recent trip he welcomed us to the Dallas-Fort Worth and encouraged us to take advantage of the many things to do, like taking bull riding lessons! That got a smile from everyone on board.

On the way home, we first dropped off our rental car, and then hopped on a big blue shuttle bus that would take us to our departure terminal. Even though the sun was barely up, the driver was enthusiastic about his job and cheerfully welcomed us on board. Before pulling out, he reminded us to be sure we had all our belongings from the rental cars, from phones to chargers to luggage. But, most importantly, he reminded us to leave the car keys behind.

Once we landed and were ready to head back home, a shuttle driver picked us up to take us back to our car. After we got on board, he welcomed us back home and waited a few minutes for more passengers. None came, so he pulled our and as soon as he did, his radio alerted him to more passengers. He chuckled and said, “I was looking right at them, and they were all on their phones! But don’t worry, another shuttle will be by in a few minutes.” He then told us that some long term parking shuttles only run once an hour! He pulled up to our parking spot and put all our luggage into the back of our car.

It takes a special kind of person to deal with travelers all day long. Some are frantically trying to make a flight. Many are tired and cranky. Others have way too many bags to carry or have a bunch of kids to keep track of. These drivers get you there quickly and safely, smiling through it all.

I’m not sure if they are trained to work with people, or whether it comes naturally to them. But this last time to Texas, I noticed and appreciated (and tipped them for) all they did.