Tag: Travel

Posted in Easter

Easter on the road

Posted on by William Douthwaite

For the first time in forever (forty years) we didn’t spend Easter at home. Retirement gave us the freedom to travel to Dallas, Texas, to spend Holy Week and Easter Sunday with my son and his family.

Flights were expensive so we did the two day drive. After a longish first day and an easy second day, our four Texas grandchildren were waiting for us at the curb on Wednesday afternoon. It’s only been three months since we last saw them after Christmas, but they’ve grown so much!

Our Airbnb this time was a nice little townhome just five minutes away. We only need a comfortable place to sleep since we spend most of our time with family – and this week, at worship.

What a treat to worship at the church where my son has been pastor for over ten years. The sermons, special music, family, and people we’ve gotten to know there made Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter sunrise and Easter morning worship a joy. My son preached for the service of darkness on Friday and at sunrise on Sunday morning.

Flanked by singing, drawing, coloring, snacking, praying, and wiggling grandchildren, each worship occasion was especially meaningful. How I loved sharing the somberness of Good Friday and the joy of Easter morning with them!

In between worship, we made small resurrection gardens, visited the Fort Worth zoo, played lots of Lego, and ended the weekend with supper at our favorite Mexican place.

Easter on the road with family was especially good for our souls this year.

Posted in Life

I guess we only need one car

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Marius Christensen on Unsplash

It’s been a while since we only had one car. Just about forty years to be exact. My wife and I each brought a car into the marriage and we’ve always had at least two. Until today.

With both of us working and three kids to raise, we drove off in directions more often than not. As a nurse and a pastor, my wife and I spent a lot of time driving to hospitals all over northeast Florida. When our three children attended three different schools, they needed rides to dance classes, band rehearsals, sports practices, and friends’ houses. When they learned to drive, we parked three cars in the driveway.

All of that has changed in retirement. Without daily trips to church, hospitals, nursing homes, and members’ homes, I drive a lot less than I used to. Most of the time, one car sits idly in the driveway. So why do we have two? Good question. Could we get by with just one car?

About half the homes in our neighborhood have more than two cars parked in the driveway. Few can squeeze a car into their junk-filled garage. My neighbor has two Corvettes in the garage, and another two cars in the driveway for him and his wife. Around the corner, another neighbor has four cars parked in a circular driveway, two of which haven’t budged in over two years. I believe single-car households are the exception rather than the rule.

Here is our strategy for owning just one car:

  • Keep and frequently check Google calendar to avoid conflicting appointments.
  • Work towards going to the grocery store once a week, rather than every day. The trick will be better lists and better planning. How often have you had to start a new shopping list as soon as you started putting away the groceries you just brought home from the store?
  • If we put our minds to it, we can bunch our errands together into one outing rather than several.
  • When I need something at the store or I want to go to the library, I can always ride my bike. Many of the places I drive are just a couple of miles away. In a pinch, there’s always Uber or Lyft. Or a neighbor.

Cutting car expenses in half is a welcome improvement in our budget. Gas, insurance, maintenance, and payments can consume large portions of our income. Or not, if we don’t have as many vehicles.

So we’ve got one car parked in the driveway. We’re going to give it a shot.

Posted in Travel

Plenty of time, right?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Hanson Lu on Unsplash

“We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Our flight wasn’t scheduled to leave for two hours. As soon as we stepped out of our car in long term parking, the shuttle was there to pick us up. No one else was in line to tag our checked bags. We waltzed through security. The people mover was waiting for us. Before we knew it, we were at our gate long before boarding began.

“Let’s get something to eat.” We walked right up to the counter and ordered breakfast. There were plenty of places to sit and watch the planes arriving and departing. I glanced at phone. Departure is on time. “We can sit in the comfy seats while we finish our coffee.” We passed the time by watching people, checking email, and enjoying a little leg room before a few hours in coach.

No sooner had I said, “Let’s head down towards the gate,” when we heard our names (pronounced correctly) on the PA system. Not only was our flight boarding, but this was a final boarding call. What? For the first time ever, we were the ones running through the airport to get to our gate. And run we did, afraid we wouldn’t make it before they closed the door.

But we did. Last people on the plane. No problem. We often like to be the last people on the plane, standing as much as we can before sitting for a long time.

As long as we’re on the plane!

Posted in Travel

Back for more manatees

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Manatees doing what manatees do

Fourteen years ago, I wrote about going to see the manatees at Blue Spring State Park in Orange City, Florida. On that January day, I thought 299 manatees were a lot. We went to see them again today, and the ranger station tote board announced a count of 677. Cold water, cool air, and overcast skies make for great manatee viewing. By the time we got there in the late morning, it wasn’t as cold as the last few days, and some of the manatees had already begun their slow float back to the St. John’s river.

A healthy crowd of locals and tourists came to see the manatees today. The popularity of manatees is an interesting phenomena. They aren’t much to look at. They don’t do anything. They just float around, coming up for air once in a while. Yet we paused at four or five viewing platforms to watch these big gray blobs float by.

Manatees have state and federal protection. According to the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission website, “It is illegal to feed, harass, harm, pursue, hunt, shoot, wound, kill, annoy, or molest manatees.”

Several organizations allow you to adopt a manatee. If you do, carefully maintained scar records enable you to pick out your manatee among all the others in the spring.

According to signs at the state park, manatees have no natural predators other than people. Boat propellers and trash are enough of a threat to earn them a spot on endangered species lists and have their own awareness month (November).

Favorite zoo animal? Typical answers include elephant, lion or tiger, and the giraffes. But when the manatees show up at the spring, we drop everything to go and see them. Their natural charisma makes them irresistible.

Posted in Travel

Our first time in a tiny home

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We’ve driven by tiny home and wondered what it would be like to live in one. By definition, a tiny home is one less than 400 square feet, not including loft areas.

I booked an Airbnb tiny home for this year’s Christmas visit with my son in Texas. We’ve stayed in hotels, four bedroom homes, lakeside condos, converted garage efficiencies, and a loft above a horse barn. Once we saw this listing, we knew we had to try it.

It is, in a word, tiny. This one has a 200 square foot footprint with a lofted sleeping area. That’s smaller than our 18×12 patio room. It’s about the same size as my son’s kitchen/dining area.

When we come to visit, we only sleep in a rental. We spend the rest of the time doing stuff with the family. The reader might ask, “Why not stay with them?” With four children, their home is full, so we don’t mind sleeping down the street or around the corner.

This tiny house is parked in a driveway off an alley behind a two-story suburban home. The backyard and driveway are surrounded by an eight foot wooden fence, providing security and privacy.

The bathroom takes up the back four feet. Standard toilet, decent sized shower, miniature sink, shelves for stuff. water drains into a small septic tank in the yard. The water supply comes from a hose from the house. Lots of pressure for nice hot showers. I’m not sure how they run in electric, but we’ve got plenty for the range, space heaters, and a hair dryer.

Kitchen cabinets line the two sides of the home, with drawers for storage as well as a sink, range, and a mini side-by-side refrigerator-freezer. Dishes and condiments all live on open shelves. The front half of the house has a sofa, stacked storage cubes, and a few stools to sit at a small table. A flat screen TV is mounted a bit too high on the wall above a large window.

When we first walked in, it felt so cramped. But after a few nights we’re getting used to it. The stairs to the loft are tricky, especially in the middle of the night. It’s a good way to use space, but you better be agile.

That’s the whole thing. Bathroom is through the door. Bed is up the stairs.

We’ve read stories of people who lived in tiny homes with children for an entire year. I’m not sure how they do it, unless they have an outdoor sitting area and better built-in storage.

But it’s ok (and cheap) for a few days.

Posted in dogs, Life

Breaking in the new guy

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“How would you feel about adopting another dog?”

For me, that question does not require much thought. I immediately answered, “Sure.”

Some friends of ours had just bought a new puppy, a West Highlands White Terrier named Winston. Unfortunately, their physical condition had gone downhill and couldn’t keep up with the demands of a new puppy. My wife heard he needed a new home, I said, “Sure,” and just like that we brought home a second dog.

Our resident dog, Samson, was a shepherd-lab-whatever mix. But at thirteen years of age, he was pretty mellow unless a delivery guy threatened our home. We have long been a big dog family with a few exceptions. Chica the Chihuahua lived here for a while, but she was mostly my son’s dog. Sable the Bassett hound howled around here for years, but she wasn’t a small dog. Especially her ears. The thing is, we never had a dog who needed to be groomed. This would definitely be a first for us.

Winston came with a pretty fancy crate made of wood and metal. He had chewed up a few corners. He also came with a little harness and stretchy leash, a ton of poop bags, a little raincoat embroidered with his name, a stuffed lamb, a stuffed bunny, a few rubber toys, and a collection of tiny Westie figurines.

A raincoat? Not in this family. Stretchy leash? Nope. We immediately got a prong collar to use with our trusty six-foot leather lead. Stuffed toys? We’ll see how long they last. Westie figurines? I listed them on eBay. (No sale so far. Interested?) The crate? Okay for now, but it’ll be in the back bedroom, along with the grandkids bunkbeds and crib.

I believe we’ve got a pretty friendly kid-safe house. A puppy-proof house is a whole different project. Winston loved the soft plastic of play food, little people, Lego bricks, Tinkertoys, and toy dinosaurs. I don’t think he ever ate any. He just left tiny teeth marks in all sorts of toys.

All of the grandkids love dogs. They just weren’t used to this dog. As soon as one of them squealed, Winston was ready to jump, nip, play, run, jump, and have a great time. We installed a baby gate to keep him separate from the squealers when they were here. I had to make a rule. “What’s the one thing you are not allowed to say when Winston comes over to you?” Answer: “AAAAhhhhhhh!”

Winston was mostly housebroken when we brought him home. Unless he wanted to make a point. If I took a sock or a toy or a pair of underwear or a towel or a piece of paper or a dead bug from him, he showed his displeasure by peeing on the bathroom rug. It’s like a little kid acting out to get attention. It got our attention, and it got Winston a little time in the cage.

A lot has changed in the last seven months. By putting all the kids’ toys out of reach and buying a nice selection of toys and chew sticks at the pet store, Winston slotted into good dog behavior. A little bit of prong collar leash training brought him to a nice heel and automatic sit. The grandkids have not only gotten used to him, but ask to play with him. He woofs at the back door if he needs to go out. He catches rays in the backyard every morning. He spends his early afternoons napping on the love seats or the bottom bunk bed. He gets along well with my daughter’s Florida brown dog Kennedy, my other daughter’s Golden Retriever Rex, my neighbor’s Shiz-tzu, Bailey, and is working things out with my in-law’s Westie, Brodie.

Yes, we had Winston neutered. When we came in for our pre-op visit, the front desk woman at the veterinarian’s office was from Scotland and said with her best Mrs. Doubtfire accent, “Helloooo! What a cute wee one. We’re country cousins! Let me have a look at ya.”

Westin is a white dog. But he’s rarely white. He loves to dig and usually comes inside with dirty feet and a ring of dirt around his mouth. He is usually covered with “hitchhikers,” small weed seeds we can only get out of his coat with a special comb. I always thought a dog that had to be groomed wouldn’t shed. Wrong. He doesn’t shed as much as Samson, but he does leave traces of white curly hair all over the house. Winston has a strange appetite for bugs, lizards, moths, sticks, leaves, and rocks. I’m always pulling something out of his mouth.

Oh, and Winston is also a runner. If he gets out an open door or escapes from his collar, he’s gone, he’s fast, and he’s elusive. But I’ve learned how to get him back. I simply call out, “Do you want to go for a ride?” He’ll run right over to the car and jump in the passenger seat. He loves to go for a drive, let the AC blow on his face, and watch all the other cars pass by.

Winston is a cuddler. If I sit down to read a book or watch TV or talk to my wife, he jumps up and sits across my lap. His favorite place is to be with his people.

Winston is also a sleeper. When I got in the back bedroom to let him out of his crate in the morning, it takes him about fifteen minutes to get up and out to go for his morning walk. He wanders out, does a perfect down dog and up dog, and then rolls around a few times before he’s ready for the collar, leash, and walk. All my other dogs have woken me up. I’ve never had to drag my dog out of bed in the morning!

Winston is a faithful buddy, but he’s also everyone’s friend. He lets me comb out his hair, but then nips me afterwards to let me know he doesn’t like it. He loves to play in water, but hates to take a bath. He is, as one website described Westies, a big dog in a little dog’s body.

I think that’s why we get along so well.

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