Tag Archives: Climb a Mountain

Life’s a Trip – When Work is Play

May 6, 2017 Rob Sims Leave a comment

This is the 4th in the Life’s a Trip series.

The American Dream isn’t always what it’s cracked up to be. A house with a two-car garage and a nice yard in the suburbs is not what everybody wants. In middle class America sometimes it is assumed that we will raise our kids to go to the right school to get the right degree to land the right job, find the right spouse, and raise the right family – who will do it all over again.

That’s fine if it is what you want, but very often middle-agers wake up one morning and discover they are tired of working the job, tired of paying the mortgage, and tired of weeding and feeding and mowing those relentless lawns.

They suddenly realize that maybe they are living somebody else’s dream.

I think the best case scenario is when young people don’t assume that life has to be lived in a certain way – before they rack up all that college debt, mortgage debt and credit card debt that seems to go with the status quo.

If you like what you are doing, it is more like play than like work. You can work 9 to 5 and love it and go home at the end of the day refreshed.

But if you have become weary of the rat race, maybe it is time to look for a change.

I loved my first 20 years of school teaching. But after that, it started to get old. I had a different roster of students every year, but the same age-appropriate behaviors. My school board offered an early buy-out for experienced (top of the pay scale) teachers, and I went for it.

To change things up a bit I took a leave of absence during my 19th year of teaching and took my family to a foreign country to teach at an international school. What a trip!

It was actually too early for me to retire, and I had always wanted to work more with my hands; I took the chance to start a log home construction company that employed a mobile crew of carpenters who built new log homes all over the state of Michigan. I had a wonderful crew of workers, and I loved getting up every morning and going to work.

I had my second wind and was living my second dream for the next 8 years.

Two of my carpenters were positioning a porch post of a new log home up north.

Then the housing market in Michigan collapsed and there wasn’t any more work. I had to lay off the crew.

Okay then, my next dream had been to operate a business in barn recycling and again I went for it. I rented a huge forklift and dismantled unwanted barns, hiring a couple of helpers to de-nail and sort the materials. I sold a lot of the boards, and constructed furniture from the vintage material to sell on the side. I even constructed several rustic log cabins that I sold online and shipped across the country.

I was having fun again.

I built this deacons bench starting with an old barn loft door and building it forward from there.

This log cabin from old barn beams was sold on eBay and shipped to North Carolina.

Then we got the epic idea to sell our property and hit the road full-time in a 29-foot RV. Oh, the places we went! Surf this blog and you will see an amazing variety of places we experienced over several years.

We visited 49 states and drove the Alaska Highway with our truck and RV.

But after a while, we found the downside of that too. We missed the kids and the grandkids when we were down south for those long winters.

And now we are pursuing the next wild dream. We have bought a historical house, a fixer-upper in the city and started ripping down old wallpaper and plaster.

More fun!

I can’t wait to get into the upstairs rooms of the old place with a paint brush!

___________________________

I think we all wise up as we get older. Well, most of us do. We develop a philosophy of life as we go. And I guess this post is about ideology as much as it’s about a timeline of my life.

As much as it is possible, I think we should seek to do the things we enjoy. Somebody said to use your resources to buy experiences, not just stuff.

If the old job has become monotonous, maybe we should change directions. It is not always easy, and it doesn’t always happen right away. When I wanted to get out of teaching, I started to work toward getting my builder’s license three years before the next retirement buy-out was offered by my school district allowing me to retire and start collecting a pension.

If change is not possible, I would look for ways to adapt my lifestyle to make it more enjoyable. It’s calling living for the weekend, and millions live life this way, but it is better than hating every day of your existence.

A final word: Sometimes the things we enjoy are not obvious. We have to try things out in order to discover our passion. It can take years, it can take decades to find the fun. Shoot, it can take a lifetime of happily skipping from one thing to the next.

This too: Sometimes the passion will change. Some things just run their course. When a door closes, be a good finisher… and move on.

And then you can be off to try out the next new thing.

Oh, yeah, there was this too: We also owned a Christmas tree farm for about 20 years.

Life's A Trip!

Life’s A Trip – In a Pickup Truck

March 2, 2017 Rob Sims Leave a comment

This is the first in the Life’s A Trip series featuring different ways we are approaching this journey of life.

Life’s a journey – whether you are on the road to adventure or parked in one spot for a while. There are many different stops along the way.

This is about the places we have discovered while venturing around the U.S. in a four-wheel-drive pickup truck for the last couple of years.

We were living in a historical old log cabin at the tree farm when the wanderlust hit.

We had lived in the same place for over 40 years when we looked around one day and saw that our kids were grown up and moved away and exploring distant horizons. We looked at each other and decided we could do that too. Selling the 30-acre homestead, we downsized our stuff, upgraded the RV and took off. We spread a map on the kitchen table, closed our eyes and jabbed a finger at… Alaska. (It wasn’t quite that random; we had a daughter living and working in Alaska every summer and had been wanting to go there for a long time.)

Summer was months away, so I got a work-camp assignment at an old campground in Fillmore California for the winter and spring.

We are ready; let's go! — We are hitched up, packed up, and ready to go!

Michigan to California

As we rolled along the prairie, the tumbleweed was rolling too. — We rolled along the prairie across Oklahoma and Texas – like a tumbleweed rolling in the wind.

We were the only visitors on a January day at Red Rocks State Park near Mojave, California.

Parked at the campground for the winter, I worked half-time for our campsite with all the hookups. — Parked at the campground for the winter, I worked half-time for our campsite.

We had family nearby at Santa Barbara and accompanied them to the beaches and eateries in the area.

California to Alaska

Summer came and leaving our work-camp assignment, we headed north up the Pacific Coast Highway toward the Canadian border.

The campground is linear at Seacliff, California, 2 miles long and 20 feet wide. — The oceanside campground is linear at Seacliff, California, 2 miles long and 20 feet wide.

We drove 1900 miles before reaching the beginning of the Alaska Highway at Dawson Creek, British Columbia.

The mountains were forest-covered a Chilliwack, BC. — The mountains were forest-covered at Chilliwack, BC.

The Alaska Highway is 1500 miles of rugged mountains, valleys, forest and tundra.

Sometimes we had a campground to ourselves and were off the grid. — Sometimes we had a campground to ourselves and were completely off the grid.

After 15 days of driving we arrived at Denali Park where our daughter was working and living for the summer. We stayed through the middle of the summer.

Our campsite was nestled behind the log cabin shops near the entrance of Denali National Park.

I spent the summer hiking and four-wheeling around Denali.

Our trek back to Michigan in the late summer took 11 days returning over the same mountain passes and open prairie.

Michigan to the Gulf of Mexico.

After spending the late summer and fall in Michigan, we set our sights on the south, again hoping to escape the harsh northern winter. Leaving at the end of December, we arrived in Memphis on New Years Eve for dinner and a party at B.B. King’s Blues Club.

Our campsite at Tom Sawyer campground was right on the shore of the Mississippi River.

We arrived the next evening at Dauphin Island, Alabama for a month of barefoot beach walking and languishing in beach chairs.

The beaches are white sand along the Gulf at Dauphin Island.

Dauphin Island is blessed with many miles of good bike paths.

The local Mardi Gras parade marched right by our campground. We also visited New Orleans on a day trip.

Alabama to Florida

I was delighted to arrive in St. Augustine, Florida and discover that driving on the beach is a thing there, four-wheel-drive required.

At low tide the beach is 100 yards wide and allows plenty of room for drivers, bikers, and walkers.

Up the East Coast

In the spring, we wandered up the east coast through Georgia and South Carolina, staying for a month at Emerald Isle, North Carolina, then stopping for a few days in Virginia from where we made day trips to Washington D.C. visiting the major sites by means of the double-decker bus.

Driving on the beach is permitted at Emerald Isle... for a price. — Driving on the beach is permitted at Emerald Isle… for a price.

Arriving back in Michigan, we spent the summer at a campground with a bike trail and a small lake.

Our campground was only a few miles from the grandkids, so we had company often.

At the end of the year, we parked the rig for a while and flew to the tropics for the winter. That’s another story.

In the spring we decided to take a break from the gypsy life for a while. We moved into a small apartment in a small town in Michigan.

West again to Utah – the Pickup Camper

We were enjoying staying put for a while, but for some time I had been planning a return to the southwest for a photo shoot in the canyons of Utah. Rather than haul the RV, I switched to a pickup camper that was just big enough for one person.

Getting off the highway, I looked for the most remote and solitary places that I could get to with a sturdy four-wheel-drive pickup.

On the trail to Cathedral Valley, Capital Reef. I had to ford the Fremont River to get to this lonely 2-track. — On the trail to Cathedral Valley, Capital Reef National Park, I had to ford the Fremont River to get to this lonely 2-track.

On a rainy day at Devil's Garden near Escalante, Utah, I was glad not to be camping in a tent. — On a rainy day at Devil’s Garden near Escalante, Utah, I was glad not to be camping in a tent.

The drop-offs along the White Rim Road command a lot of respect in Canyonlands National Park.

I had to drive the pickup onto boulders to level the camper at Valley of the Gods. — I had to drive the pickup onto some stones to level the camper at Valley of the Gods.

I camped at the foot of a tall butte at Valley of the Gods.

Getting to the White Rim Road required driving through creek beds and crossing dry washes.

So, there you have it. These are only a few of the many places we have visited with a pickup truck over the last couple of years. There are more ahead of us, I’m sure.

People often ask us what is our favorite spot and we never know what to say. It’s impossible to narrow it to one location.

I guess we will have to keep looking.

One thing is for sure though: the most frequent campsite we have enjoyed has been the Walmart parking lot. But so far, we have not visited the same one twice.

Camping in the parking lot at Walmart, Grand Junction, Colorado.

If you want a scare, view my YouTube video: A White-knuckle Drive on the White Rim Road.

Southwestern Safari

6 Boondocking Campsites for Loners – In the Southwest

January 19, 2017 Rob Sims Leave a comment

This is the 9th in the Southwest Safari series

These are isolated locations where lone wolf campers can be alone and most of these sites are free. All of these are legal camping sites.

First, a reminder that boondocking is rustic camping without hookups. Some of these sites don’t even have a toilet, so you have to be comfortable with alternatives. Fortunately for me, I was hauling a pickup camper which was entirely self-contained and I could store my compost in a holding tank until reaching a dump site.

Pleasant Creek National Forest Campground

The first of the rustic campsites on my recent photography trip to the American Southwest was at a deserted forest campground along highway 12 in the mountains between Capitol Reef National Park and Escalante, Utah. At about 7000 feet elevation, this spot was a cool island of pine and poplar woods surrounded by lower deserts of bare rock.

Forests are rare in the southwest where the desert heat is a killer.

The campground had pit toilets and delicious well water. All alone for the night, my campsite cost $6 which is half the usual rate because of my senior pass which also gets me into all national parks for free.

Pleasant Creek Nat'l Forest Campground is a cool respite on Highway 12 north of Boulder, Utah — Pleasant Creek Nat’l Forest Campground is a cool respite on Highway 12 north of Boulder, Utah

There were two other national forest campgrounds within a half mile and there were a couple of campers there for the night. This was in September.

Hole-In-The-Rock Road, Escalante, Utah

After exploring the intriguing rock formations at Devil’s Garden off Hole-in-the-Rock Road, I found an isolated pull-off a couple of miles south and west across from the access track to the dinosaur tracks site (I didn’t cross the dry wash into dinosaur tracks because the steep sideways slope threatened to roll my camper over).

High clearance and four wheel drive are helpful on any of the side tracks from Hole-in-the-Rock Road. — High clearance and four wheel drive are essential on any of the side tracks from Hole-in-the-Rock Road.

The only other sign of life was the wild horse plops on the hills next to my camper. — The only sign of wildlife was the wild horse plops on the hills next to my camper.

This spot was essentially nothing more than a level field where I could pull off the road. The sound of the light rain on the roof of the camper during the night lulled me to sleep.

Paria Contact Station

East of Kanab, Utah, there is a ranger station with some helpful volunteers on staff. After driving through heavy rain coming down from Escalante all day, I was leery of crossing the gully at Buckskin Wash even with four wheel drive. I figured a flashflood was coming that could prevent me from returning to the highway for several days. Their solution for me was a gravel pit on the top of the mountain behind the station. I had a free campsite with no neighbors.

I had a view of the Paria River valley from the summit. — I had a commanding view of the Paria River valley from the summit.

The next morning I looked down on a raging Paria River rushing at 30 miles an hour. I decided to change my itinerary and stay out of the slot canyons where the water level rose from ankle deep to 30 feet deep overnight. Deadly!

Valley of the Gods

This was my favorite campsite for pure desert grandeur. I chose a spot at the foot of a huge stone butte where I could see for twenty miles toward the distant towers of Monument Valley. The camping is free for a limit of 14 days at each spot.

One word of caution here. If you approach Valley of the Gods from the south off highway 163 you can reach the campsites with a medium-sized motor home or trailer. If you come in from the west on 261 as I did, you will cross no less than 20 dry washes with steep grades that will test the fortitude of your four wheel drive rig. Don’t take your 40-foot coach in here from either direction.

Butler Wash

Five miles west of Bluff, Utah, on highway 163, open the cattle gate and drive through, then close it behind you. You are on Butler Wash Road at the south end of a broad valley flanked by rocky cliffs on both sides. Among those cliffs there are many hidden Navajo cliff dwellings. Camping is free at any of the side tracks on this 25-mile long four wheel drive road. Yes, again, you must not take a long wheel-base vehicle in here; you’ll get hung up in a step ravine trying to climb out the other side.

You are sure to be alone with only the night wind to keep you company. (Read about my adventure at Pedestal Rock Ruin here.)

7-Mile Parking

A few miles northwest of the town of Moab, Utah, on highway 191 there is a privately owned parking lot with nicely leveled gravel lots and porta-johns. There are no other perks except its strategic location near the entrances of Arches National Park and Canyonlands National Park. I found it almost impossible to get a campsite at the national parks so this little spot was a real blessing to me and I stayed several consecutive nights paying the measly $5 per night. What a great staging area for rafting the Colorado River, dirt biking the slick rock at Behind the Rocks, or four wheeling the epic off-road challenges around the area. Moab has provisions of all kinds. You can even rent a Jeep or ORV there.

These are a few of the great boondocking campsites of southern Utah. I passed up many others. Much of the desert southwest is managed by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) where free – or almost free – camping is permitted with only a few restrictions.

Somebody with the ultimate off-road camper was enjoying the almost-free campsites on BLM land near Fisher Towers 20 miles east of Moab.

Happy camping!

___________________

Read about my adventure near 7-Mile Parking on the White Rim Road:

3 Mountain Roads that Scared the Snot Out of Me

Southwestern Safari

The Chasms at Canyonlands

November 30, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

This is the 8th in the series.

Canyonlands National Park is a vast area of bare rock cliffs, mesas, and canyons. It is trisected by the Colorado and the Green Rivers which divide it into the three districts, the Needles, the Maze, and Island in the Sky. Most tourists only visit the highest area, Island in the Sky, which is a huge flat-topped mesa surrounded on three sides by the canyons. The Needles is reached via a single rugged road, and The Maze is entirely deserted but for a few adventurers coming down the river on rubber rafts or an occasional fly-over by a sightseeing airplane.

The defining theme of Canyonlands is the grand vistas available from the edges. The road on Island in the Sky provides easy access to the edge of the cliff that offers such expansive views that they are almost incomprehensible. The hiking trails are likewise perched on edges.

canyonlands-view-boost — From the edge of the high mesa the views into the canyons are almost mind-boggling.

canyonlands-mesa-arch-fix — Photographers love the orange glow on the bottom of Mesa Arch when the light is right.

I was glad to be without small children when I was at Canyonlands because there are unguarded drop-offs everywhere.

Where were the parents of these two sisters who crawled to the edge for a better view of the chasm 2200 feet below?

canyonlands-monument-basin-edit — From Island in the Sky one can view the White Rim 1200 feet below and the secondary drop to the Colorado River in a chasm called Monument Basin.

In my experience, there seems to be a psychological connection between risk and adventure: The greater the perceived risk, the greater the sense of adventure. Because of this phenomenon, I would call Canyonlands a high-adventure location. There is an abundant risk factor because of the abundance of edges. The drives and the hikes all require frequent encounters with the edge.

After exploring Island in the Sky, adventurers who can afford the time and want to multiply their sense of adventure will likely drop down off the edge via the Shafer Trail and explore the White Rim Plateau 1200 feet below.

canyonlands-shafer-hdr-boost — The Shafer Trail drops 1200 feet in 2 miles of scary switchbacks and tight hairpin turns.

The White Rim Road is another level of high risk and delivers correspondingly high adventure. It follows the edge of the Colorado River canyon for 100 miles of rough one-lane rocky off-roading fun. (See my scary YouTube video of a 3-mile stretch of the road at the bottom.)

white-rim-road-pickup-2 — My pickup and camper were dwarfed by the dizzying drop-offs of the White Rim Trail.

My drive on a section of the White Rim Road was a bucket list experience never to be forgotten. Those with a fear of heights will be ill-advised to attempt either the Shafer Trail or the White Rim Road.

Visitors with Jeeps and high-clearance SUV’s will have the easiest time at Canyonlands National Park. Despite the huge expanses of geography, the parking lots on Island in the Sky are small, and below the rim the turns are too tight for the big rigs. If you want to get off the high mesa and explore the more challenging areas below, it’s best to leave the RV in the town of Moab and rent a Jeep.

Otherwise, there will be chaos in the chasm.

Beyond the Jeep trails, there are multiple adventures for river rafters, hikers and mountain bikers.

If you like adventures on the edge.

canyonlands-false-kiva-view-hdr — This panorama is from my hike on the edge to the obscure cliff dwelling, False Kiva.

_________________

Read more about my scary hikes: 4 Cliff Dwellings that Put Me on the Edge

Read more about my scary drives: 3 Mountain Roads that Scared the Snot Out of Me

View my 11-1/2 minute YouTube video: A White Knuckle Drive on the White Rim Road (You will leave my blog)

Southwestern Safari

4 Cliff Dwellings that Put Me on the Edge

October 25, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

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.

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. 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.

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.

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-vertical — 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!

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.

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

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.

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.

___________________

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!

Side Roads

The Color Red in Outdoor Photography

May 22, 2016 Rob Sims 1 Comment

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Side Roads

Obsessive Repositioning Disorder (ORD)*

March 12, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 3-12-16 — in a vacation rental in the tropics

Most of the time it is simply called wanderlust. It’s that compulsive condition that makes people restless when they’ve been in one place for too long. Sometimes it is in the DNA and whole families are afflicted with it, and sometimes it is brought on suddenly by a single extraordinary experience, perhaps a childhood trip to Disneyworld or a memorable weekend in a cottage on the seashore.

Somehow, somewhere, the infection gets under your skin and ends up flowing through your veins and you can’t sit still anymore. You are compelled to move, even if it is just for a weekend road trip.

One last visit to the beach bar for one last Dominican pizza. — One last visit to the beach bar for one last Dominican fish fry.

Right now, we are getting ready to reposition, and the excitement is building every day. We have been in the tropics for the winter and are flying back north a few days from now. There are certain symptoms that accompany the onset of ORD for us:

Emptying the fridge and cupboards. I am not sure how we developed this habit, but part of the excitement of moving on for us is eating leftovers and trying to finish stuff up right down to the last egg in the fridge and the last squeeze of toothpaste. There is a certain check-it-off-the-list mentally that besets us when we are getting ready to move. I guess we like to travel light.
Daydreaming. That blank stare might mean I am reminiscing about that great campsite we had on the Pacific coast a couple of years ago, but if I am suffering from ORD, it’s more likely I am dreaming about what the next destination will be like… or the journey from here to there.
Obsessive Googling. We are both online checking the map of the next destination. “Hey, there is a bike path in our new neighborhood!” “Oh, cool, we will be able to walk to the cafe down the block from our place!” Before we even leave for our new location, we feel that we already know what’s there and what’s not.
One-Last-Time syndrome. It may seem weird but we both take note of the last time we use something before moving. The last time we charge the camera batteries, the last time we order pizza in this neighborhood, the last time we do the laundry, the last time we visit the grocery store, and so on. I think it is part of the countdown for us. Does that happen to you?
Planning ahead. This is where we prepare for the trip and the new location. Maybe we buy jerky and crackers for the plane flight. Perhaps we lay out our entire wardrobe for the trip and the arrival at the new place. Will we need a jacket? Where will we eat on the way? Do we need a haircut before leaving?
Stocking up on arrival. This is the counterpart to one-last-time syndrome. It is the excitement of re-stocking the fridge upon arrival. The first trip to the grocery store. The search for the nearest farm market. Which restaurant will we start with?

Since we are heading “home” to Michigan next, we have the added anticipation of seeing the grandkids for the first time in a couple of months. That is a biggie for old folks like us.

Plus, there is an epic change in store for us with this move since we are planning to “park it” for a while and actually move into an apartment near our kids for at least a year, and maybe a lot longer. We are going to get everything out of storage and rediscover the archives. We are even planning to stay there through the next winter. It will have been five years since that has happened. We are still planning to travel, but we will have a home base again. We still want to do the New England coast during fall color change… in a red convertible. And there is my Southwest Photo Safari coming up this fall in the canyon lands of Utah. And we haven’t ruled out an Art Tour of Italy later on.

So, when the ORD kicks in again, we are not sure what will happen. Probably shorter trips and less distance from home. I am sure that we are not done traveling yet. As long as we are physically able, we plan to keep scratching that itch.

How does Obsessive Repositioning Disorder affect you? How did you contract the bug in the first place? Do you have to fight it off because of work or financial constraints? What do you do when it’s time to move? Can you take a spontaneous road trip?

Sorry, I don’t think there is a cure for ORD. You might die with it someday. Too bad.

In the meantime, have fun!

(*There’s really no such thing as ORD other than common wanderlust or the travel bug, I made it up. Except that it is also the airport code for O’Hare in Chicago., and that carries it’s own suggestive travel connotation.)

Side Roads, The Dominican Beach

The Anxiety of the Lone Wolf

February 26, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

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!

The Dominican Beach

Venturing Outside the Walls

February 6, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 2-6-16 -We are at a vacation rental in the tropics.

Here’s a tip about travel that first-timers may not discover on their own: The real adventure is often where the real people are. I am talking about the backstory that is on the backstreets of your travel destination. I am talking about the true cultural realities that exist outside the walls of the gated resort where you are staying.

Many travelers see a carefully scripted performance when they go on vacation at the all-inclusive resort. Even the cruise lines that claim to visit exotic islands, as it turns out, may have bought the island and designed an elaborate facade that is only a fake reproduction of the real culture that they are trying to depict. But it’s not real.

If you like it that way, fine. If you want to stay within the enclave, you should be comfortable and safe. Hopefully, you will be able to relax and have a good time, maybe even make some new friends. For you, it may be exactly the right thing. But you might be able to ratchet your adventure factor to the next level with a venture outside the walls.

Culturally, the real fun begins when you leave the reservation. When you leave Front Street and venture to Second or Third Street… or even farther to where the street turns into a pathway.

When the waiter comes to your table at the resort, do you ever ask yourself, “Who is this person? Where does he live? Does she have a family? What’s her name?” Better yet, don’t just ask yourself… ask the waiter.

When I was in the Maldive Islands, my scuba diving buddies asked these questions of our guide, a young man named Ibrahim. After 2 weeks of friendly interaction with him, we were surprised when he invited us to come to his home and meet his wife — they were expecting their first child. This sort of encounter is unheard of in the Maldives where the government requires strict oversight of tourists; it just never happens. But for us, it happened. The day before Ibrahim escorted us to the airport, he started crying, and threw himself at us with hugs and weeping as we parted company. I couldn’t believe it. This was unreal. No. This was real.

This sort of rich adventure can be really hard to find when you are on a 10-day cruise where your movements are scheduled and your encounters carefully scripted. It is hard to escape the confines and get to the raw realities of the real culture.

One of the blessings of the traveling life that Kaye and I are now enjoying is the extravagance of being able to stay as long as we want wherever we want. We love to find out where the natives live, and we have been invited into their homes lots of times. Nobody tells us where to be or at what time. We decide for ourselves.

This winter, we are staying 10 weeks in a little town on the beach in the Dominican Republic. We have learned enough Spanish to be able to venture onto the side roads and back alleys to see how these people really live.

In fact, by planning ahead, we were able to visit an indigenous family in the interior of the country just yesterday. We have been sponsoring a kid through an international humanitarian organization that provides underprivileged children with a quality education and health care. Yorgelis is now 15 years old and we got to meet him. We hired a car and driver who was able to find his way through the maze of backroads and the small towns (on the cell phone with the host several times for directions) to find these guys in an obscure neighborhood far (4 hours one way) from the tourist resorts.

We were able to visit our sponsored child's family in their home. — We were able to visit our sponsored child’s family in their home.

What an amazing experience! Their family is actually part of a community of artists and have a pottery factory in their backyard. Did you ever wonder who makes the vases and bowls and cups that you find in the gift shops at the resorts where you stay? We found them.

We got to tour the school where our kid has been educated for the last 9 years, and then his family put on a demonstration for us in the pottery shop. We could not have asked for a more beautiful experience with an authentic indigenous family. Precious.

Here I am with Yorgelis and his dad and granddads.

We now have some pottery to add to our international collection at home. And here’s the thing: We know the people who made it.

That is the stuff of real adventure.

Here are a few more photos from our visit to the interior yesterday:

This guy threw a beautiful vase in about 5 minutes. — This guy threw a beautiful vase on the potter’s wheel in about 5 minutes.

Yorgelis' dad carved flowers onto the vase in a minute. — Yorgelis’ dad carved flowers onto the vase in a minute.

Yorgelis' family gave us gifts of pottery. At the rear is his teacher, and on the right is our host and guide from the organization. — Yorgelis’ family gave us gifts of pottery. At the rear is his teacher, and on the right is our host and guide from the organization.

One of the workers was stoking the fire under the kiln

We found a nice fruit market on the way home, and our driver provided some tips on selecting avocados. — We found a nice fruit market on the way home, and our driver provided some tips on selecting fresh avocados.

I hope you are able to get outside the walls on your next adventure!

Have fun!

The Dominican Beach

When Giving Back – Gives Back

February 2, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 2-2-16 –living in a rented apartment near the beach.

My dad used to say that the real joy of having anything – is sharing it, and I proved him right again today. The joy of artistic expression through photography has been multiplied by the joy of giving as I have been visiting my Dominican neighbors with copies of photos that I took of them 3 years ago.

I have made a project of printing the photos, mounting them on 5×7 rigid foam backings, and then handing them to the folks who are in the photos. Part of the fun for me is experiencing the reactions of people who don’t often get noticed by passersby, let alone being given a memorable gift that will almost certainly become a family treasure.

We visited friends at the local colmado (mini-market) who said they knew everybody in the photos. Some of them were in the photo from 3 years ago displayed at the top of this page.

A lot can change in 3 years, and it has been both surprising and gratifying for me to locate so many of the folks that I photographed last time we were here, although in one case, the horse was the same and the people were different.

I shot these guys washing their horses in the ocean 3 years ago... — I shot these guys washing their horses in the ocean 3 years ago…

... and found the same horse this time being ridden by his brother. — … and found the same horse this time being ridden by the man’s brother.

The quest to locate these people has created a secondary adventure that is even more fun than the original photo expedition. When I found one young guy at a fruit stand, the place had changed a lot and I didn’t recognize him. When I stopped and showed him the photo asking him, “Where can I find this guy?” he looked at the photo and pointed at it and then himself, exclaiming, “It’s me!”

This guy was running a fruit market and gift shop 3 years ago... — This young guy was running a fruit market and gift shop 3 years ago…

... and I found him at the same market, though I didn't recognize it from the photo. — … and I found him at the same market, though I didn’t recognize it from the photo.

One of the funnest reunions was when we finally located a little old grandma — after several stops to ask where she was, each stop getting us a little closer to her. She was on the porch of a house with her granddaughters mixing a big bowl of cake batter. When we handed her the photo her eyes got big and she threw back her head and started laughing. They passed the photo around with excitement and then she told us the old house had fallen down, and she pointed to an empty slab next door. Yes, there had been some changes in 3 years.

3 years ago I stopped to shoot a 10-foot high poinsettia plant and found these beautiful old folks in the doorway of their shack. — 3 years ago I stopped to photograph a 10-foot high poinsettia plant and found these beautiful old folks in the doorway of their shack.

We found her living with her grandkids next door to where her house had been. — This time we found her living with her grandkids next door to where her house had been.

Coco was the maintenance man at the condos where we stayed 3 years ago. I had fired his son to wash my rental car. Coco has since been in a motorcycle wreck that destroyed his knee. He has had it reconstructed and doesn't even limp now. — Coco was the maintenance man at the condos where we stayed 3 years ago. I had hired his son to wash my rental car. Coco has since been in a motorcycle wreck that destroyed his knee. He has had it reconstructed and doesn’t even limp now.

The night watchman, Sergio, has nearly died of cancer since we were there. Now they say he will likely survive.

Photography is a wonderful traveling companion. Feeding my artistic appetites has brought me a lot of satisfaction over the years. And in giving it back to my subjects and enriching their lives in this small way, I have found a way to feed my soul as well.

The real joy of having a photograph is sharing it — not just with the cyber world, but with the people who shared their beautiful faces to make it what it is, a work of art.

I love the people of the Dominican Republic. They are gorgeous, inside and out.

Read Kaye’s beautiful account of this adventure on her blog here.

Side Roads

What’s Your Travel Mode?

January 18, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 1-18-16 – at a vacation rental in the tropics

Travelers come in all sizes and shapes, and so do their travel preferences and their budgets. Not everybody can afford to start out with a 40-foot motor home towing a boat. Young families usually start out with tents or pop-up campers and graduate to more comfortable amenities later on.

When our kids were young and we had foster kids and foreign exchange students, we drove a full-size van every day of the week, so when we wanted to head out on a road trip, we just threw the tent and cooler – and the porta-potty – into the van with our sleeping bags and away we went. It was rather an all-purpose vehicle. We could only afford one vehicle at a time, so it had to be versatile. We stayed in campgrounds or in the national forests where the camping was free.

A van is a very versatile vehicle for road trips with a family.

But the budget is not the only consideration that has a bearing on our travel mode.

Destination is another. You can’t very well take a motor home when you are flying to the tropics for the winter or traveling to Italy for an art tour. On the other hand, if you are planning to hike along the Appalachian Trail you would need the lightest of tents and backpacks. Weight would be a consideration that might limit you to one can of Spam for the entire trip. Darn!

Further, the type of travel comes into play. What is the experience you are looking for? If you want to motorcycle the length of Route 66 with other Harley enthusiasts, your equipment is pretty much going to be determined by the requirements of that particular mode of travel.

Suitcase travel is a mode that will take you a lot of places but not to the backcountry. It is the thing for staying in hotels, bed & breakfasts, cruises and vacation rentals, but you’ll need to switch to a backpack if you are hiking down through the Andes in South America.

Since we hit the road, Kaye and I have frequently switched modes when we were ready for some variety. We drove the Alaska Highway – the ultimate road trip – with a pickup and a fifth wheel camper which we stayed in for months at a time. That was how we also did our work-camping where we earned a winter campsite in southern California by working 20 hours a week at the campground.

Last fall, when I wanted to head off on a solo photo shoot, I threw a small tent, an air mattress and a cooler into the back of the pickup and took off for the state forest in northern Michigan where the facilities were rustic and the stress level almost non-existent. (Towing a fifth wheel is not entirely stress-free, especially through cities and along truck routes.)

It is entirely likely that over the course of a lifetime most of us will experience an evolution of travel modes, starting out small and gradually growing as our travel tastes change over time.

Mind you, I do recommend planning. It might be nasty to invest in a huge camping rig (with a monthly payment to match) and then wake up some morning in a crowded RV park with the realization that what you really wanted was to sail around the Bahamas, gunk-holing from one sheltered cove to the next.

On the other hand, there’s probably no harm (other than the cost) in trying things out. If one mode of travel doesn’t suit your fancy or you get tired of it, try something else for awhile.

This has been our objective since we sold the house a while ago and took to the road. Let’s see where this takes us. We’ll try RV-ing for a while and then change it up when we need some variety.

Right now, the RV sits in storage, the plumbing winterized against the Michigan cold and snow, while Kaye and I sit on the veranda of our vacation rental in the tropics in a quiet little fishing village at the end of the road in the Dominican Republic.

Dinner on the beach is part of the setting here in the tropics.

Hey, whatever blows your hair back (if you have any hair). When it comes to travel, almost anything goes – at the right time in your life and at the appropriate price tag, and in the preferred mode.

Hey, go see stuff! And have fun!

Photograph (36) — Our daughters thought a Conestoga wagon might be a fun mode of travel when we were touring the Southwest.

The Dominican Beach

Oh, the (Zany) Things We Will See!

January 14, 2016 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 1-14-16 Las Galeras, Dominican Republic

Travel will entirely change your world view. And part of that is that very often it just offers really unusual sights that are not on the itinerary. My experience has been that nary an adventure transpires without bonus stuff thrown in, little surprises that add interest to the story.

We have moved to the Dominican Republic for the winter, one of our favorite and most affordable tropical destinations, and our biggest surprise so far was the sighting of a pirate ship that ran aground on the beach next to the restaurant where we were having lunch with our French hosts.

The beach-going vacationers were called on to help free the heavy old vessel and they were eager to dive in and help. Well, actually, diving wasn’t necessary as the water was only a meter deep.

Okay, everybody, put down your pina colada and heave ho!

Their efforts were futile, and the seamen decided to try towing their ship off the sand using a motor boat. Alas, they couldn’t find enough rope to reach to deeper water where the boat was waiting so they had to give that up.

DSCN4082 — Hmm, not enough rope to reach the tow boat.

When we left they were attempting to push the ship seaward with a backhoe. I don’t know if they were successful with that; I think there is a limit to how far into the ocean you can drive a backhoe.

Pirates can be quite resourceful when their ship is beached. Let’s use a backhoe to free it

So we had some pretty amusing dinner entertainment – and an unanticipated photo op.

The surprises that the travel life offers are not always fun. I am sure the ship’s owner was not amused by his predicament.

Our motto for travel has always been, “Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and take what comes.”

Because you never know for sure what you are in for when you set sail on life’s sea.

Side Roads

How Travel Ruined My Life

January 1, 2016 Rob Sims 2 Comments

Milepost 1-1-16 In a vacation rental at Rockford, MI

I am spoiled for the ordinary.

As a summer camper and beachcomber, my dad was the one who did it to me and my siblings. I remember the day he took the whole family to Sears to buy our first cabin tent that would sleep all 7 of us. I have precious memories of mountains we climbed and trails we hiked while hauling that heavy tent on the luggage rack of the family stationwagon.

Dad overloaded the old station-wagon and then drove it along the beach as far as he could to reach a remote campsite. — Dad overloaded the old station-wagon with camping gear and then drove it along the beach as far as he could to reach a remote campsite.

And I have done it to my kids likewise, dragging them around the country to national parks and seashores in an old van, and later, offshore to foreign countries for months at a time.

In the heart of the Rockies, my daughters explored the ruins of an old ghost town. — In the heart of the Rocky Mountains, my daughters explored the ruins of an old ghost town.

Our family shopped at the neighborhood hole-in-the-wall tienda for daily provisions in the Dominican Republic. — Our family shopped at the neighborhood hole-in-the-wall tienda for daily provisions when we lived in the Dominican Republic.

And as a mentor, I have done it to a whole lot of other people’s kids as well.

A youth volunteer at the local church for 35 years, I took kids camping, hiking, canoeing, and spelunking. My wife and I even took them on cross-cultural trips to underdeveloped countries to see how the rest of the world lives.

Our girls posed with the neighbors where we lived for one school year in Santiago, Dominican Republic. — Our girls posed with the neighbors where we lived for one school year in Santiago, Dominican Republic while teaching in an international school.

One of my mentees once complained to me, “Bob, you have ruined my life; I am no longer satisfied with normal American life.”

Okay, so he said it with a bit of tongue-in-cheek, but there is real truth to the matter. The American dream sits at the top of a ladder to success whose rungs are installed in a standard sequence that goes like this: Do well in school so you can get a good education so you can get a good job so you can marry the right person and provide for the perfect family and live in a nice house (with a mortgage) in a good neighborhood and have two cars and a boat in the garage so you can eventually retire and travel or play golf all day.

Feeding your inner travel beast too early can change the order and mess things up. I used to tell my mentees that “What you feed is what will grow.”

Well, if the thing that you feed is a wanderlust, you may become dissatisfied with the normal sequence of American life and want to get out early. You would have been better off to never leave home in the first place. You wouldn’t know what you were missing and would be content to stay put. You should never have opened the cover of that first National Geographic magazine.

My daughters have traveled just about as far as they could get from their home in rural Michigan. — My daughters have traveled just about as far as they could from their home in rural Michigan.

So, I am all about blowing up the status quo. And ruining people for the ordinary. And I will never apologize, because the end result of an inconveniently interrupted American lifestyle is actually a much richer existence.

Nobody arrives at their deathbed saying, “I wish I had traveled less and seen less of the world.” or “I wish I had not met those foreigners and broadened my world view.”

I hiked the backcountry at Denali - where my youngest daughter lives and works every summer. — I recently hiked the backcountry at Denali with my daughters – where my youngest daughter now lives and works every summer.

So if I can feed your wanderlust I will do it. I would love to blow up your common life by helping you get out the door and on the road.

Because I know you will someday thank me for it like I thank my dad for blowing up his modest household budget one summer by purchasing that expensive canvas tent at Sears Roebuck & Company.

But you need to have your eyes wide open. What you feed is what will grow. Feeding your inner gypsy is dangerous. It could devastate the comfortable lifestyle you now enjoy. You could end up selling your house and hitting the road – like me.

And discovering an alternate universe, as it were, in the next state and around the world.

Yes, travel has demolished my routine.

And it can do the same for you.

Thanks to my dad's travel bug, my brothers and I waded into the narrows at Zion Canyon National Park. — Thanks to my dad’s travel bug, my brothers and I waded into the narrows at Zion Canyon National Park when we were boys.

We brought the world to our house by hosting foreign exchange students... and then taking them on the road to see America. — We brought the world to our house by hosting foreign exchange students… and then taking them on the road to see America. Here are our 3 daughters and 1 Russian student on the shore of Lake Michigan.

Side Roads

Someday is Just Code for Never

November 24, 2015 Rob Sims Leave a comment

Milepost 11-24-15 In a vacation rental at Rockford, Michigan

I breathed a sigh of relief at the moment when, in the movie Knight and Day, Ms. Day (played by Cameron Diaz) says that she plans to travel someday, and the undercover spy, Mr. Knight, (Tom Cruise) replies, “Someday is just code for Never”. This hit close to home for me, because my wife and I had struggled for several years to free ourselves from debt and a mortgage so that we could hit the road.

Our 30-acre Christmas tree farm required a LOT of mowing, and that was just the beginning. of it. — Our 30-acre Christmas tree farm required a LOT of mowing, and that was just the beginning.

But we had done it. After closing our business and downsizing for several years, our house and property finally sold and we put the last of our keepsakes into a storage unit and took off to follow our dreams – and the American road – in search of adventure and a more untethered lifestyle.

Our summer in Alaska would have been difficult if we still had lawns to mow back home.

Sometimes spontaneity doesn’t happen without a lot of planning. It seems like a contradiction in terms, but the American dream has stakes that are driven deep, and it may take a determined effort to pry them out of the ground when one finally gets the notion to be free.

Isn’t it odd that the freedom we enjoy in our country compels us to go after so much stuff that it becomes its own kind of bondage? Mow the lawns, weed and feed the grass – so it will grow faster and greener – and require more frequent mowing. Climb the corporate ladder so you can afford a bigger place with larger lawns, that need to be weeded and fed so they will grow faster and look nicer; but now require a much larger lawnmower – which we will buy with a credit card.

And our own personal empire doesn’t necessarily submit to our commands. We wake up one day and discover that we are not driving it anymore; it is driving us.

It's hard to relax on a tropical beach - for an entire winter - when you have to think about a house up north that would freeze up in a power outage and be destroyed by water damage. — It’s hard to relax on a tropical beach – for an entire winter – when you have to think about a house up north that would freeze up in a power outage and be destroyed by water damage.

Someday we will get free. Someday we will travel. Someday we will spend an entire day in flip flops – or barefoot. Someday we will see the world. Someday we will live on the beach.

Someday we will forget what day it is.

Thankfully, it has finally happened for us. Kaye and I often wake up in the morning and have to think for a minute to remember where we are and what day it is. We are delightfully lost – and not looking for the way home. Wherever we are, we are home.

Sometimes we like to see just how far from responsibility we can get... like camping on the beach. — Sometimes we like to see just how far from responsibility we can get… like camping on the beach.

But it almost didn’t happen. It took a lot of determination and hard work to free ourselves and to finally get lost enough to find ourselves.

We no longer use the word “someday” without taking out our calendars and setting a date.

When will you starting setting dates for your travel dreams?

How about TODAY!

We spent last winter walking on southern beaches. Because we could. — We spent last winter walking on southern beaches. Because we wanted to – and we could.

Side Roads

Flexibility Makes the World Go ‘Round

October 13, 2015 Rob Sims 1 Comment

Milepost 10-13-15 Montour Falls, New York

… or flexibility is the mother of invention… or flexibility is the spice of life. Or something like that.

Anyway, for career wanderers, flexibility is an essential ingredient in keeping life moving along smoothly. The fact is, stuff happens, and sometimes the best laid plans of mice and men… get torpedoed.

Our tentative plans for the next year are already laid out, but they are not written in stone. They can’t be. Because life happens, and things change. There are changes in the weather, there are changes in family plans.

And mechanical repairs. We were planning to tour New England right now, virtually extending a trip to New York to deliver a load of furniture I had built for a customer there over this summer. I took the pickup in for a routine oil change… and ended up having the entire front end rebuilt when the technicians saw worn edges on the front tires. The work was scheduled for the following Saturday, the day we were to leave, and it extended into the next week as servicemen found more worn parts.

The upshot was that we didn’t have time left for the planned excursion to the east coast, since we wanted to be back to Michigan for a rendezvous of all of our kids in one place at the same time (they have become quite the traveling vagabonds as well and don’t cross paths but a couple of times a year).

So what do full-time adventurers do when their plans are destroyed?

They make new plans.

While checking the route to New York I had discovered some rugged features including box canyons and waterfalls not far from our drop-off point. Bingo! New adventure.

As someone said lately, “Never waste a good fiasco.” Or when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. Or when life hands you grapes, don’t wine about it.

Anyway, we modified our plans and spent a couple of days climbing around the waterfalls at Watkins Glen, New York.

I loved it. Maine coast, eat your heart out. We will get to you another time when we have the time – and a red convertible – to do it properly.

50 states will wait for us. We are stuck for the time being at 43. And that is fine.

Here are some photos I shot while exploring the canyons of western New York.

Visitors enter Watkins Glen through a tunnel (right) and stairways onto the first of several stone bridges. — Visitors enter Watkins Glen through a tunnel (right) and stairways leading to the first of several stone bridges.

The first bridge spans the gorge over the first of 19 waterfalls and cascades.

Rainbow Falls has a magical quality that adds to the overall mystique of the canyon.

The trail leads behind this waterfall, then into a spiral tunnel with a circular stairs cut from the inside of the cliff. — The trail leads behind this waterfall, then into a vertical tunnel with a spiral stairs inside the cliff.

I liked that Eagle Cliff Falls was easily accessible after a short hike and a few steps. Warmer weather would have definitely precipitated a spontaneous shower under the torrent. — Eagle Cliff Falls was easily accessible after a short hike and a few steps. Warmer weather would have definitely precipitated a spontaneous shower under the torrent!

The Finger Lakes region of New York is wine and fruit country; roadside fruit markets abound.

Anyway, if variety is the spice of life ( and to full-time adventurers it really is), then flexibility is the mother of invention. It results in the invention of the next side trip… and more adventure.