Tag Archives: camping

4 Cliff Dwellings that Put Me on the Edge

This is the 5th in a series on the Southwest.   Find the others in the left sidebar or at the bottom of this post.

Sometimes I can’t believe how I get into such scary spots…  and then I remember exactly how it happens: I am always looking for the obscure sites where there is nobody else around. I don’t like crowds, but for a photographer, they usually come with the job.

Not so with the obscure Navajo ruins of the southwest.  Three of these four sites are not even on a map; I found them through some meandering research, and some of them I had completely to myself.  Now that’s what I’m talking about.

There is a reason why the hundreds of ancient ruins are not publicized and it has to do with preservation.  Heavy traffic can destroy irreplaceable artifacts in a short time.  Most of these locations are protected by conservation laws, but that doesn’t stop some folks from picking up a curious arrowhead here or a stone tool there…  and soon there is no way for archaeologists to piece together the true history of the place when they eventually get to study the site.  Obscurity is their best protection.

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Looks like the Himalayas, doesn’t it? But it’s not Tibet; it’s here in southern Utah.

Pedestal Rock Ruin

I don’t think there is anything to worry about when it comes to the long-term preservation of this amazing location.  Not only is it difficult to reach by road,  it is perched on a high ledge that can’t be reached without risk to life and limb.  It’s just not worth taking the chance.

Further, though it is in plain sight, it blends in with the background cliff so well that it is all but impossible to spot without knowing where to look.

Can you spot the ruin? It is in plain sight near the middle of the photo.
Can you spot the ruin? It is in plain sight near the middle of the photo.  This was my first view of the site as I approached on foot following a sketchy path that ended at the foot of the cliff.
Honestly, the natives must have had their kids on tethers all the time to keep from losing them over the edge.
Honestly, the natives must have had their kids on tethers all the time to keep from losing them over the edge.

When I finally reached Pedestal Rock after several miles of off-roading  (yes, four-wheel-drive was absolutely necessary) and a hike on foot across the desert,  I still had to scramble 150 feet up a loose talus slope to get within 100 feet – and still 30 feet below the ledge – to photograph the stone ruin.  No way was I climbing any farther!

What a fantastic view those guys had from 200 feet above the valley!
What a fantastic view those guys had from their stone house 200 feet above the valley!

Nobody is going to bother Pedestal Rock ruin for a long time.  It’s a thousand years old now and will continue to last undisturbed until…  well, a major earthquake or something.

I spent the night at the end of the road near the cliffs.
I spent the night at the end of the road near the cliffs.

Seventeen-Room Ruin

This site was another well camouflaged structure.  I drove right up to it on a ranch access road and when I got out of my truck I still couldn’t see it.  It’s perfect blend with the huge alcove in which it sits also made it hard to photograph.

A gigantic alcove shelters the ruin on a semi-circular ledge that follows the contour of the formation.
A gigantic overhang shelters the ruin on a semi-circular ledge that follows the contour of the alcove.

Again, I was in for a challenging climb on a boulder-strewn slope.  Man, these guys knew how to pick their sites to ward off attackers!

This ruin commands a splendid view of the San Juan river valley. Yes, that's my pickup below.
This ruin commands a splendid view of the San Juan River valley. Yes, that’s my pickup below.

Many of these ruins were abandoned 700 years ago, but they date back to hundreds of years before that.  Just think, Columbus hadn’t even arrived yet in North America by the time these installations were vacated.  Historians say they moved southeast to more fertile locations, but I think it was because somebody had to carry water and firewood up that slope everyday and they just got tired of it.

17-Room Ruin view

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Set way back in the alcove, this structure will never be eroded by rain and snow.

False Kiva

My hike to False Kiva and back had me focused intently on my own survival.  The site is located in a high alcove overlooking the expansive views of Canyonlands National Park but it requires a sketchy climb across the face of a loose rocky slope on a rather obscure pathway where one wrong move can mean a disastrous tumble and certain death.  The drop to the Green River is over 2000 feet!

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The trail crosses the face of the loose slope with a sheer drop into the canyon below.

Long before I reached the ancient site, I was dizzy with vertigo.  Finally, the enormous alcove offered a secure place to rest…  and grab the photos for which I had just risked by life.  Wow!  What a view!

The setting sun had already dropped below the nearby cliff by the time I reached the old ruin.
The setting sun had already dropped below the nearby cliff by the time I reached the ancient ruin.

I still had to climb back out of here.  My original plan to stay for some night sky shots now seemed rather foolhardy and an invitation to trouble on the dangerous slope after dark.  A quick change of plans had me gulping Gatorade and trail mix and resting for a few minutes before initiating an immediate return to the canyon rim before darkness would set in.

Hovenweap National Monument

This place is actually on the map and gets a light flow of visitors even though it is a long way from anywhere.  It’s location near the Four Corners area makes it accessible on mostly nice paved roads, but it is still not really on the way to anywhere.  There is a rustic campground where I stayed the night.

Though you have to be a bit intentional about getting here, at least you will not be challenged by strenuous climbs.  The only real danger is that, just like every other ancient Anasazi installation, the buildings are perched on the edges of drop-offs.  Make the kids hold your hand.

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Some of these remarkable buildings are three and four stories high and really impressive.  The stonework is nothing short of amazing.

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Every building is contoured to the ledge that it sits on.  And apparently, the rock didn’t need to be level to be a desirable construction site.  It just had to be on a dangerous edge.  Amazing.

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Anyway, it was a relief for me to be able to wander around pretty much on the level and wonder about the way of life that the ancients experienced.  How deep must have been their fear of their adversaries to feel they had to protect themselves by building and  living their lives on the edge every day.

My visit to four ancient sites afforded only a brief glimpse of the historical installations.  There are hundreds of them, and I was amazed that most of them sit unprotected on their original ledges with nary a visit from anybody.  Hopefully, they stay that way, because they are a real treasure to all of us, not only to the native descendants.

I came away from all of my cliff dwelling adventures without a scratch, just some achy leg muscles from all the scrambling up and down steep rock-strewn slopes.  For that I am really thankful.

And I had fun.

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Read Episode #1: Bryce Canyon

Read Episode #2: Capitol Reef

Read episode #3: Monument Valley

Read Episode #4: Valley of the Gods

Thanks for reading!

Valley of the Gods – the Other Monument Valley

This is the 4th in the series on the American Southwest.  There are links to the others at the bottom… or click on the others in the left side bar.

There are no buses or safari trucks hauling tourists to this remote spot.  In fact, if you don’t have a high clearance vehicle, you might not make it here yourself.  The road is gravel and sand and if you are coming in from the west, it crosses no less than 20 dry washes.  You descend steeply, cross the stream bed, and then climb just as quickly out the other side.  If it’s raining, forget about it.  Crossing streams here can get you stuck for hours or days – if you aren’t washed away entirely.

What this lack of accessibility adds up to is a lot of solitude…  in the middle of a magnificent valley filled with rugged silent beauty.  It is often described as a slightly less spectacular version of Monument Valley which is within sight, a few miles to the southwest.  To me, it looks as though the two are just part of one larger geological area, with the San Jaun River gorge cutting across the middle.

The road wanders among huge buttes and cliffs and crossed arroyos.
The road wanders among huge buttes and cliffs and crosses many arroyos.

The camping is free here, and that is one thing that attracted me to the spot; I saw it as an affordable overnight alternative to the expensive campgrounds and dude ranches that service Monument Valley.  Of course, boon docking is for those who are self-sufficient.  There are no restrooms or water pumps here; you are entirely on your own.

Camper heads into Valley of the Gods

I had checked off a mental inventory of my provisions before turning off the highway just north of Mexican Hat, having already filled the fuel tank and eating a hearty fast food meal at Kayenta, Arizona earlier in the day.

This spot will certainly be ranked in my top ten of my favorite campsite of all time.
This spot will certainly be ranked in the top ten of my favorite campsites of all time.

The campsite I chose was at the valley’s northernmost point at the foot of a giant butte and across from its twin.  There were cliffs both east and west of me and a view to the southwest that stretched almost to infinity where I could see the hazy buttes of Monument Valley in the distance.

I parked the camper at the foot of a massive monolith.
I parked the camper at the foot of a massive tower.
Looking west and southwest from my campsite.
Looking west from my campsite. There’s the road I came in on.
Looking east from my campsite.
Looking east from my campsite.

There is no restriction on hiking and exploring here, so I scrambled around for a while with the camera, just enjoying the sights.

The expansive view toward the southwest from my campsite.
The expansive view toward the southwest from my campsite.

Of course, boon docking means there are no improvements to the campsites; there are no RV pads or leveled platforms.  I soon realized that my site was sloping a bit and decided to make my own improvements – by backing the truck onto some slabs of rock for the night.  Perfect.

Leveling the site

After the sun went down, I became slowly aware of another spectacular scene:  the Milky Way was brilliant in the dark sky above me.  After all, the nearest town was 20 miles away and the nearest city was more than 100 miles south.  Out came the camera and tripod for a few time exposures of the starry sky.

I made a fake campfire of battery-operated mini-tealights and sat as still as I could for 25 seconds to get this shot.
I made a fake campfire of battery-operated mini-tealights and sat as still as I could for 25 seconds to get this shot.  Campfires are not permitted at this location.

Though there had been a few tourists driving by in rented SUV’s during the day, the place became extremely quiet after dark, almost too quiet.  There was not another soul nearby… or was there?
A light wind was causing a moaning in the highest crags of the stone tower near me. It seemed a little bit spooky, and I started wondering how this desolate place first got its name.  Did the natives name it?  Had they been conjuring spirits out here in the past?  Were there still manifestations that were floating about in the dark?

Were the Ancient Ones standing nearby watching me?
As the darkness deepened, were the Ancient Ones standing nearby watching me?

Climbing into the comfort of my camper loft, my weariness caught up with my consciousness and put me under a blanket of sleep.  There were no nightmares.  Just peace and quiet.

I loved Valley of the Gods and if I ever return, I hope to stay longer.

It’s a lot of fun if you like traipsing about in the desert among the most fascinating of rock formations.  Or if you just like quiet solitude.  Beautiful.

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Read Part 1:  Bryce Canyon is Hoodoo Central

Read Part 2:  Capitol Reef – I Think We’re Alone Now

Read Part 3:  Two (fake) Cowboys Meet in Monument Valley

Two (fake) Cowboys Meet in Monument Valley

This is the third in a series of posts from my photo safari to the American Southwest.  Look for links to the others at the bottom.

Since I am the most frequent subject in my own photos, I often dress to fit the setting.  For the southwest trip I bought a plaid shirt – red of course – and a cowboy hat and stepped into the picture at just about every site.

At Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park there is already a resident cowboy who poses on his horse for the tourists, making a few dollars in tips from each one.  Being photo savvy, he wears a red shirt too.  I don’t know this Navajo’s name but we spoke briefly at John Ford Point, the little mesa made famous by the namesake film director who first filmed John Wayne at the site for the movie Stagecoach  in 1939.  It has since been featured in a variety of flicks including The Searchers (1956),  Easy Rider (1969) and others.

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My tour of the dusty 17-mile valley loop took me past other popular scenes like the Totem Poles, West Mitten, East Mitten, and Merrick Butte.

Valley Drive in Monument Valley

Totem Poles at Monument Valley

Though there are lots of safari trucks and outfitters who offer tours through the famous valley, I like that it is still open to general visitors to drive and explore.  However, hiking is not allowed in most areas and there are warnings about leaving the road, so it is closely controlled.  You can get ticketed for wandering off… if anybody can find you.

West Mitten Monument Valley

Monument Panorama

Monument North Window

My final signature site was Mile 13 on the north side of the valley where highway 163 makes a straight shot north out of the park.  It’s the spot where Forrest Gump finally stopped running in the movie of the same name.  The day I was there, the highway was being repaved.

There is a small turnout at milepost 13 where you can pull off and aim your camera south to capture th iconic skyline made famous by Forrest Gump.
There is a small turnout at milepost 13 where you can pull off and aim your camera south to capture the iconic skyline made famous by Forrest Gump.

Monument Valley is a long way from the nearest expressway and farther from a city, but if you go, you can get fuel and provisions at the Shell station in Mexican Hat coming in from the north or at Kayenta (AZ) to the south where there are several gas stations and even some fast-food joints.

Also, if you are boondocking, the camping is free at Valley of the Gods just 25 miles northeast (my next post will cover this remote location).  No facilities.

You’re sure to have a monumental experience!  And have fun.

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Read Southwestern Safari episode 1:  Bryce Canyon is Hoodoo Central

Read Southwestern Safari episode 2:  Capitol Reef National Park – I Think We’re Alone Now

Also, click the green Follow button in the left side bar if you want to get a notice of my next post.  You won’t want to miss my final post in the series, Four Mountain Roads that Scared the Snot Out of Me!

Bryce Canyon is Hoodoo Central

This is the first in a series of posts from my photo safari to the American Southwest.  Look for links to the others at the bottom.

I doubt if there is another place in the world with as many hoodoos as Bryce Canyon National Park. Red rocks, pink rocks, yellow rocks, white and orange rocks, a panorama of this landscape is a mind-boggling blast of color. It’s almost too much to comprehend from the canyon overview.

Sunset Point is perched on the brink above Navajo Trail.
Sunset Point is perched on the brink above Navajo Trail.

Fortunately, you can get right into this scene and touch and feel these fantastic natural features, because there is a network of hiking trails that takes you right into the heart of it.

Navajo hiking trail descends from the canyon rim just below Sunset Point.
Navajo hiking trail descends from the canyon rim just below Sunset Point.

I chose the Queen’s Garden trail first because I knew there were tunnels and I wanted to photograph them at dusk. Great fun.

My shot of one of three tunnels on Queen's Garden Trail ended up taking on an Indiana Jones aura.
My shot of one of three tunnels on Queen’s Garden Trail ended up taking on an Indiana Jones aura.

Of course, every trail ends with a strenuous climb back to the canyon rim. Whoa. And at 8,000 feet elevation, the unseasoned hiker will be gasping for air before making it back to the top.
Rather than doing an out-and-back, I connected to the Navajo trail which is the most traveled pathway in the park. But after dark, I was the only one out there. Hah!  those busloads of tourists were nowhere to be seen.

Queen's Garden trail has three tunnels carved through the rock.

Photography was my first priority on my wandering tour of the southwest, but hiking was essential to get to the scenes I wanted to shoot.  Queen’s Garden trail was a great way for me to get into the guts of Bryce Canyon and capture the essence of this gorgeous geological site.

Queen's Garden trail arch.
Look how the time of day and the angle of the sunlight changes the glow of the rocks on this photo and the one above.

Photographers often say it is all about the light.  One of my favorite phenomena about the light at Bryce is that it bounces and reflects all over the place, making the rocks look as though they are glowing from within, creating a rather neon effect.

So this is the thing about Hoodoo Central.  Make sure you get below the rim and into the heart of place.  Feet on trail,  firsthand experience, here we come.

And take lots of pictures.  It is a one-of-a-kind place in all the world.

And have fun!

Visitors from the west will drive through two tunnels on highway 12 before arriving at Bryce Canyon.
Visitors from the west will drive through two tunnels on highway 12 before arriving at Bryce Canyon.

Coming Up:

  4 Mountain Roads that Scared the Snot Out of Me

 3 Cliff Dwellings that Left Me Hanging

 Arches National Park – A Delicate Balance

 And more

The Color Red in Outdoor Photography

Milepost 5-22-16                  –At our apartment in Michigan

It is no secret to outdoor photographers that the color red is an eye-catcher, and they use it at just the right times (usually) to add pizzazz to their photos.  I don’t know what aesthetic operative comes into play when I see a nature photo with red in it, but it gets my attention anyway.  I have been using this natural phenomenon in my photos for a long time.

Bob promo at Denali 1461_2

When I rented kayaks for a recent paddle along the rugged shoreline of Michigan’s Thumb, I chose red kayaks.  The outfitter had yellow, blue, orange and green, but I knew what red would do in my photos of the event.  Yes, yellow or orange would probably have provided a similar effect, but red delivered the classic look I was hoping for.

Turnip Rock 0004

Sometimes, it’s not up to me to be intentional about using the color red.  Sometimes, I get lucky and it is already there.  Last weekend I was camping at Tawas Point State Park to test some new camping gear and when I hiked out to the historic lighthouse — Voila! — the lighthouse keeper’s dwelling had a red roof.  Cool.  That was easy.  Somebody on the lighthouse restoration committee apparently knew the secret too.

Tapas Point lighthouse fair skies

This knowledge has cost me a small fortune.  It didn’t cost any more money to rent a red kayak than a green one, but I have spent money on red shirts, jackets and sweaters to insert in my photos, and now, anticipating some upcoming road trips to the seacoast, I have bought a red convertible.  No joke.  I would not buy any other color than red, and I actually have been watching the online market for two years waiting for the right car and the right time.

Bob w '07 Mustang HDR

Two years ago, when we were hauling the RV up the Pacific Coast Highway from southern California to Alaska, we had to bypass the California redwoods because we were pressed for time and we couldn’t invest the necessary extra day that it would take to handle that winding narrow road through the tall trees.  At that moment we pledged to ourselves that we would return sometime later and approach it in the proper manner…  in a red convertible.

So, you will be seeing this car on the blog a lot in the coming days.

For our first major road trip with it, we have chosen to take on an adventure we missed last year while heading up the east coast from Florida in the spring.  We want to visit New England and pick up six states that we have never been to, bringing our tally from 43 states to 49.  Not only that, the trip will coincide with our 45th wedding anniversary.   We plan to be cruising the coast of Maine on our special day.

I can’t think of a more appropriate way to celebrate 45 years together than to cruise the seashore in a red convertible — with the top down, of course.

Maybe we will get back to the redwoods sometime –  and now we have the right car for it – but for this time it will be the other end of the country and a place we have never been before.

It’s the appropriately color-coordinated adventure of a lifetime!

Watch for the red sports car in subsequent posts.

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Unfortunately, not every photographic prop can be purchased in red.  Part of the new inventory of camping gear that I was testing last weekend is a new tent.  It’s yellow.  But a red light stick inside changes the color for photos.

And anyway, it is possible to get too much of a good thing, so yellow will be fine for my photos of my tent in future camping pics.  Any bright color will add visual punch to a photo.

Try it if you want to, and see what happens to your photos.

And have fun!

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Travel: The (Almost) Impossible Dream

Milepost: 5-11-16                       — Just moved into a small apartment

For many years it seemed like this day would never come — the day that we would be free to wander around the country in an RV and a pickup truck and choose our next destination with a random finger stab at the map lying in our laps.  But the day did come, not by accident but by sheer determination and hard work.  There were hard choices.

Six years ago we were living on a retired 30-acre Christmas tree farm with too much mowing to do… and a mortgage we could no longer afford.  Our kids had all grown up and left our spacious rural estate and our large house, and our nearest grandchild now lived 80 miles away.

We had become weary of the upkeep on so much property and wanted to see the world — and our grandkids.  But we couldn’t afford it.  I had been running a full crew with my log home construction company when the housing bust arrived in Michigan — two years before the recession.  It was 2006 and nobody else wanted a log home.  Even the log home dealers were closing one by one — the people who had been referring their buyers to us to build their homes.  I had to lay off the crew.

 Our financial plan for retirement crashed and burned.

We had arrived at retirement age still owing a mortgage.  Reality was brutal:  We could afford to own and maintain this property OR we could afford to travel.  But not both.  We had to choose one or the other.

It looked as though our businesses had run their courses and we wouldn’t be needing so much space and so many resources — tools, machinery, etc.  and the kids weren’t coming home to visit but once or twice a year.  We were ready to downsize.

And so we did.

We spent the next few years cleaning out sheds and closets and selling stuff or giving it away.  We put the property up for sale.  But we were in the middle of the recession and nothing happened.  Finally, a neighbor showed up at our door asking if we would sell him 10 acres.  We did, and then used the money to buy a used RV.  We put the rest of our stuff in storage, put renters in the big house, and we hit the road.

And the next year, while we were wandering around Alaska with our rig, the rest of our property sold.  Our once impossible dream was becoming our new reality.

We finally realized our dream of driving the Alaska Highway.
We finally realized our dream of driving the Alaska Highway.

Over the last couple of years, we have explored three corners of our country, from Florida to California to Alaska and a thousand points in between, and have moved offshore for a couple of winters living in the tropics in vacation rentals.

 New England (the fourth corner of our country) will have to wait for us, because we have decided to take a vacation from traveling (that sounds odd, maybe?)  and move into a small apartment for a while.

And we can finally afford to do BOTH.  We can have a Michigan home base again AND continue to travel.  Our new apartment is only 13 miles from our kids and grandkids, and the rent is less than half of what our old mortgage was!

Somebody else mows the lawns, shovels the walks, and repairs the leaks… while I head down the rail trail with my bike or visit the local farm market or ice cream shop (One of the bike paths here ends at the local Dairy Queen).

If I have one regret, it is that we didn’t start downsizing sooner.  Fortunately, Kaye and I are still physically fit and able to pursue our travel goals, and we really do appreciate and take advantage of our good fortune.  Lots of folks run out of good health before they ever get to realize their dreams.

Anyway, I was doing a bit of reminiscing today and  thinking about how far we have come in the face of a lot of challenges, and decided to write about it here.  I am so happy that our  present circumstance is so far different than where we were just a few years ago.

If you, my reader, find yourself in a similar almost impossible scenario, take heart; there is much that can happen to improve your outlook and bring your dreams within reach.

I suspect that your journey will begin with some difficult decisions and will be followed by a lot of hard work.  That’s okay, isn’t it?

The struggle makes the reward all the more satisfying.

On the other hand, if you are in upsizing mode right now, it might be smart for you to stop and think about what you really want in 10 years or 20 years from now.  Maybe you should quit bringing more stuff into your garage and basement and attic.  It might turn into a ball and chain later and keep you planted at a time when you want to be free.

Just a thought.  Do what sounds right to you.

And have fun!

The Anxiety of the Lone Wolf

Milepost 2-26-16       -at a vacation rental in the Dominican Republic

“Introvert, Know Thyself”.   This is my most recent note-to-self.  I am experiencing a bit of emotional discomfort in my current setting, and I’m realizing that I over-estimated my ability to find solitude in a highly social culture.  For an introvert like me, solitude is essential to a balanced life and healthy emotional equilibrium.

Everybody is different, and it would be easy to assume that the majority of travelers and adventurers are extroverts, loving the excitement and the challenges of far-away places and exotic cultures.  I don’t know if that is the case, and I am not about to launch a study to find out.

What I do know is what an introvert like me needs when it comes to adventure – and life in general:

  • I can enjoy crowds and parties and parades and other highly social settings, but only for a short time, and those experiences need to be followed by a season of hibernation, of being alone so that I can refuel my emotional tank.
  • On the other hand, if I am inactive for very long, I will get restless and need to get outside and satisfy my adventure quotient.
  • The best balance of these two factors – of solitude and adventure – is to find adventures in sparsely populated locations.  Or to follow my crowded adventures with solo adventures in solitary places.
  • I don’t like cold weather for very long.  I can handle Michigan through Christmas every year with just the right allocation of snow and brisk clear air, but after that, the winter is far too long.  This is a third factor that complicates my search for the right balance.  There aren’t that many southern destinations that offer solitude.  RV parks are notorious for noise and overcrowding.  For the solitary soul, they are tolerable when and if there are quiet areas nearby.

Where I ran into trouble this winter was that I chose a tropical setting in the middle of a highly social open-air culture for too long a period of time.  10 weeks of noise, bustling streets, merengue music blasting until after midnight every night… well, I just can’t seem to get away from it long enough to refill my emotional tank.  Of course, even the beaches are crowded with bodies this time of year.

There are few sidewalks, so pedestrians and traffic share the streets.  It's dangerous, and can be irritating.
There are few sidewalks and no parking lots here, so pedestrians share the streets with parked vehicles and moving traffic. It’s dangerous, and can be irritating to a weary traveler.

I find myself avoiding the interaction with the locals that I love so much – for short periods.  I just want to stay home and be alone.

Fortunately, Kaye and I are very much alike in most of these ways, only she likes the northern winters and doesn’t need as much adventure as I do.

We solve this by scheduling what we call Bob-alone times.  I can head off on a solo adventure, thus satisfying my appetite for adventure, while both of us get to refresh by being alone for a while.

Most of my solo adventures are short, lasting only a few hours.  A bike ride down the nearest rail trail works just fine, and I don’t have to talk to anyone along the way, simply nodding to other cyclists that I meet on the trail.  I do this several times a week during the fair weather seasons.

Longer alone times usually involve a tent, a sleeping bag and a cooler full of goodies…  and my camera, of course.  Last summer, I celebrated my birthday by heading up north to the woods with my bike to pedal for miles on end at a beautiful paved bike trail through the woods and dunes of the national lakeshore in northern Michigan.  I camped at a state forest campground by a quiet stream where there was hardly anyone else around.  Ah, solitary bliss.

The Sleeping Bear Heritage Trail is a premiere cyclist's destination that winds along the shoreline for 27 miles.  It's a steep one with grades of up to 11%.
The Sleeping Bear Heritage Trail is a premiere cyclist’s destination that winds along the shoreline for 27 miles.

I always feel that when I am alone with myself… I am in good company.  If you are an introvert, you likely know what I am saying.

Anyway,  I am sharing this side of myself for the benefit of other would-be adventures who may not entirely understand what happens to them when they feel stressed while living in a foreign culture for an extended period of time.  Maybe you are an introvert.  Maybe you need to study yourself a bit more and find ways to hibernate from time to time for the sake of your own well-being… and the well-being of those who are traveling with you.

I really do write notes-to-myself that I refer to before scheduling the next outing.  It is good to know yourself.  The thing is, you can’t always know how you will feel or react in a given situation until you try it out.

And that is part of the adventure.

Know thyself.   And have fun!